Poem Version of What I Want to Write

Your Facebook posts are really beginning to piss me off.

I mean seriously.

First, you don’t even follow sports and the NFL protests bother you?

Aside from the fact that your white privilege is showing (again),

Why do you even care?

Why is that the thing that upsets you?

I don’t get it.

Because, the 21st transperson has been murdered so far this year,

And, yet, you say nothing.

How dare you rage at the NFL protest.

Men and women have fought and died for their right to protest.

For their right to take a knee,

For the police brutality,

For the racism inherent in a broken system,

For the lives lost due to hate,

For the injustice.


And second, you are retweeting organizations who support him,

Who are actively trying to take health care from children,

Who are trying to make it so that a restaurant can turn me away,

Who are going to stand by and let the gun violence carnage continue.

Some of those people you retweet, believe I am “Satan’s plan”,

Simply for me being me.

And you retweet their thoughts, mocking transpeople, mocking me.

And, it just sucks.

And, it hurts because I thought you had my back.

I thought I could count on you.


And, third, when you text me,

Text me and pretend that everything is alright,

Like everything is okay,

I can promise you, it is not.


Fear and Loathing on Twitter, Part 2: The Hypocrisies of the Old Party

Well, now with those opening Twitter thoughts out of the way, it’s time to cruz on over to talk about porn.

Here’s the thing.

I am not going to bash Ted Cruz for liking porn on Twitter.

But, really, who watches porn on Twitter?

Before Cruz’s “like”, I didn’t even know there was porn on Twitter.

Now, unfortunately, I know two things I didn’t need to know, 1) there is porn on Twitter and 2) someone with access to Ted Cruz’s Twitter account “liked” it.

Perhaps sometime I will delve into my views of Republicans, in general, but for now, let’s just stick with Senator Cruz.

Because, I have very specific feelings regarding this individual.

Days before I came out to my family, I disappointed my father by refusing to attend a Ted Cruz for President rally being held nearby.

I had no intention of attending this rally. There was not a single platform of his that I agreed with, and I feared that if Cruz verbally attacked LGBT people, as he was wont to do, it was unlikely that I would have been able to control myself. But aside from that, I did not want to be associated with attending a Ted Cruz rally, and I found it deeply distressing that my father was so excited to be on the Ted train.

I slept in on the morning of the rally. When I did get out of bed, I found that information regarding the rally had been slid under my door. This act would prompt me to spend the next hour or so browsing the internet to remind myself of all the hateful rhetoric the senator had spread and to better understand his platform.

I remember only feeling a mix of sadness and disappointment.

There’s a lot of that those days leading up to and after that I wish I wrote down more of in the immediate aftermath of those days. Because even though I wrote a lot of notes about those days then, I still find myself forgetting some of the nuances to my memories.

When my brother, grandfather, and father return from the Ted Cruz Rally, my brother comments about how surprised he is that my grandfather was not as much of a diehard supporter as he had thought. But, I can’t remember when that conversation took place or where.

When on Christmas night, out on the porch, my grandfather and father and uncle begin to joke about Caitlyn Jenner’s transition. I abruptly leave my whiskey sour behind, fight back tears, and slide down the wall to the floor as my ex-fiancée texts words of encouragement that it won’t be as bad as I am afraid it will. But, I can’t remember how the conversation on the patio started or what happened after I left the bathroom.

But, I can tell that I am not ready to write about all of that, my coming out and the family sit down that followed, not yet, because just drifting into nearby memories has almost completely soured my day and evening.

Yet, those memories only grapple at the surface of Ted Cruz, a staunch supporter of the hate group, the Family Research Council and about as bad as it gets when it comes to LGBT rights and equality.

And, now, to his porn “like”.

With a reminder that Ted Cruz has fought against the sale of sex toys and believes solely in the Biblical laws of marriage and masturbation, whatever that means, that Ted Cruz “liked” porn.

Which to me, is about as hypocritical as being told all your life about the vileness of pornography, only to find that parent’s porn stash.

That’s how I equate it.

As hypocritical as the many Republican politicians with anti-LGBT agendas that as truth comes to the surface only reveals their own homosexuality.

And, here’s the thing, if you “like” a post on accident, you simply “unlike” and go about your merry way.

And, porn does not just show up on your Twitter feed for no reason.

It was searched for.

That is how Twitter works.

So, I have to ask.

Why can’t politicians just be honest?

Why can’t people just tell the truth?

It ain’t easy.

But, it is freeing.

And, being honest about yourself to others, reveals as many truths about them as it does about you.


2016: Republican Facts – Ted Cruz: Not a Fan of Pride Parades


Southern Poverty Law Center on The Family Research Council


Ted Cruz Talks About Twitter Porn Incident And Sex Toys


19 Republican Politicians Brought Down By Big Gay Sex Scandals


Fear and Loathing on Twitter, Part 1: He Retweeted What?!? . . . Forget 140 Characters, I Need At Least Two Posts To Cover This

As I scrolled through Twitter, a new tweet from the Human Rights Campaign popped up to state, “Derricka Banner, a transgender woman, was killed Tuesday morning, marking the 20th trans person murdered this year.”

I closed out of app.

It’s posts like these, realities like these, that make staying aware of what is going on difficult.

The more petitions and surveys and emails I send out to support a cause or sound an alarm, the more emails I receive asking me to support another cause and sound another alarm.

It’s exhausting, but I also feel like it is not enough.

Because, while some view it is as perfectly acceptable to discriminate, as of August, thirty-three LGBT people have been murdered in the United States, a number, that when excluding the Pulse Night Club terrorist attack, has already broken the record setting twenty-eight hate-fueled LGBT homicides of 2016.

It is because of facts and realities like this that I feel obligated to stay aware.

One avenue of information continues to be Twitter.

But, it is still relatively new for me.

I signed onto this platform as 45 implemented his, now highly litigated, Muslim ban, which would prove to be only the beginning of 45’s reign as the modern and unabashed white supremacist in chief. As the hours after the implementation of the ban seemed to prompt protest after protest, Twitter was the quickest way to follow what was going on.

It provided immediate updates to the degradations of our Constitution and rule of law. It was heartbreaking, but I couldn’t look away. Fortunately, a friend would drag me away from real world horrors to play a game of Ticket to Ride and a meal of eggplant parmesan.

But, that entry into Twitter opened up a world, in which I never knew existed.

It can be a hateful place, full of bigotry and racism and xenophobia and other nomenclatures found in a bag of deplorables.

But, it can also be an amazing place, filled with hope and cleverness and art and people unafraid to stand up for what is right. I have come across the kindness of strangers, and I found one of my favorite prints through Twitter, which I find it so amazingly cool that I could find a French artist through Twitter and order her print.

If you like nerdy and cool art, she is worth checking out. I love my Women’s March print. I began following her on Twitter after I came across her reaction to 45’s Muslim ban, which featured Muslim-American teen superhero, Ms. Marvel, crying on her bed as an illustrated Trump screams through the TV in the shadow of a Captain Marvel and an Avengers poster. It is an image that I think about often and is heartbreaking every time that I do.

I had originally planned to just write about Ted Cruz’s hardcore porn “like”, but alas, after 45 retweeted a gif of him golfing and hitting Hillary Clinton in the back of the head, well, I feel as if a blog post about Twitter would not be complete without at least referencing it.

So, to 45 and his post, I just want to say, “thank you”. Thank you for proving once again that you are unfit to serve in the office in which you hold. Thank you for every time you spread lies, hate, misogyny, and encourage violence you prove how much of a terrible and immoral individual you are. And, thank you for continuing to prove the kind of person you are because as your base weakens and Republicans continue to prove themselves spineless, you and your Twitter help to reveal the lack of humanity and morality of you and each and every one of your supporters.

So, thank you.


HRC Mourns Derricka Banner, a Transgender Woman Murdered in Charlotte


This Report Says More LGBT People Were Killed So Far in 2017 Than In All Of 2016


Maryne. Art


@MaryneeLahaye Tweet, “I can’t even find something to say. #Muslim Ban


Trump retweets GIF of him hitting Clinton with a golf ball


To Consider It


I would consider it.

But, I need one thing first.

Okay, it is more like two things.

I need you to tell me how you feel about him.

And, I need you to tell me what you feel about the statement.

Tell me, how you felt when he called Mexicans rapist.

Tell me, how it is okay to brag about grabbing women “by the pussy”.

Tell me, how you feel when he lies again and again.

Tell me.

Tell me, your opinion on Adam and Eve.

Tell me, your opinion of “a homosexual or transgender self-conception”.

Tell me, what you believe.

Tell me.

And, I will consider it.

Because, the next time I see you,

I want to know exactly, precisely the person you are.


This blog will not become a commentary-on-dumb-things-people-post-on-Facebook-blog. The dark-endless-nothingness-void-of-eternal-unending knows that I post plenty of inane musings of my own. Case in point, a caption reading, “A little rain didn’t stop me from trying out my new grill. It works amazingly well!” for the picture of my newly assembled grill inside my apartment with a Chipotle to-go bag.

See, dumb.

But when I come across a post that begins: “Okay. Here we go. I want to say this: WE DO NOT NEED THE OPINION FROM ANY NEW YORKER OR CALIFORNIAN OR ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO TWIST THIS HURRICANE INTO BEING PRESIDENT TRUMPS FAULT . . .” My snowflake heart can’t help itself.

Because here’s the thing, and I am going to ignore the rest of the poster’s meandering and heartfelt response, to just say this. No one, and I do mean no one credible, is saying the hurricane is 45’s fault.

Hades, I would love to blame it on a man who defends white supremacy, but I can’t because that is just plain dumb.




Wait for it . . .

. . .

. . .

not yet

. . .


In the grand scope of all things dumb, it falls very close to an actual human being arguing that it is more credible to blame the Hurricane Harvey on Houston electing a lesbian mayor than climate change.

I follow the news very closely, in all likelihood too closely, and nowhere have I seen anyone credible blame the hurricane on a man who brags about sexual assaulting women.

But, here is what will be and is 45’s fault.

Rolling back flood protections to account for climate change.

Gutting the EPA by putting a man in charge who spent his Oklahoma career suing the EPA.

Endorsing concentration camps and racism with his pardon of Joe Arpaio.

Banning transgender service members from the military.

. . . Okay, this got away from me for a minute. I was going to stick with just the tip of the environmental iceberg, but since they are melting, I delved into other territory.

This post has certainly gotten away from me at this point.

I guess I am just tired of it.

I am tired of people defending the indefensible. (Joe Arpaio, exhibit 1)

I am tired of the hate and ignorance. (Trans-related healthcare less than 10 million, removing trans-military personnel estimated $960 million, exhibit 1)

I am tired of the constant corruption and lies with no accountability. (Russia, Emoluments clause, Russia, moral failings, Russia, exhibits . . . ugh, just see the link below)

Everyday is another setback.

Everyday is another obstacle.

Everyday is another opportunity.

An opportunity to do right.

An opportunity to stand up.

An opportunity to resist.

So, to reel this post back in, no, 45 is not to blame for the hurricane. No one person is to blame. Hurricanes happens.

But, we do know that this hurricane was more devastating than normal. And there are many reasons why, ranging from unregulated urban sprawl to climate change.

Denying facts don’t make them go away.


“Lesbian Ex-Mayor Has Perfect Response To Ann Coulter’s Hurricane Nonsense”


“Trump Signs Order Ruling Back Environmental Rules on Infrastructure”


“Scott Pruitt is leaving a toxic trail at the EPA after only six months on the job”


“It’s Impossible to Overstate How Truly Vile Joe Arpaio Is”


“Banning Transgender Troops Could Cost U.S. $960 Million Report Says”


“The 88 reasons Trump is unfit to serve as President, according to an official Democrats resolution”


“Why Houston’s flooding got so bad, according to storm experts”


“Hurricane Harvey and Climate Change”



I had always been under the impression that you stand up for what you believe in, you show empathy to those less fortunate than yourself, and you do the right thing even if you are standing alone. I had thought I was raised to believe and live by these principles and values, but maybe, I was wrong.

All I know is that as a person who values the diverse landscape of the human experience, I cannot stand idly by and watch hatred rise in this country that I always thought would be my home.

My very core of who I am prevents me from allowing a government to attack the freedoms I hold dear. I will not remain silent as a government threatens the freedom of religion with a “Muslim Ban”. I will not remain silent as facts are decried as “fake news”. I will not remain silent as the Justice Department works to undo civil rights for LGBTQ+ Americans. I will not remain silent as public lands are opened up to oil and gas companies, climate change is censured, and the Clean Water Act is gutted.

Those are, unfortunately, only a small fraction of the things I will not remain silent on. Because, amazingly enough, this list doesn’t take into account the rise of bigotry and other Neo-Nazi sentiments. It does not take into account the oligarchic administration that emphasizes loyalty to a figurehead in place of loyalty to the Constitution and rule of law. It does not take into account the widespread attempt to legitimize lies and white supremacy.

Rhetoric spewed forth by entities like Alex Jones’s Infowars and Steve Bannon’s Breitbart and others are an affront to truth, justice, and democracy. When did honesty get replaced by deceit and conspiracy theories? When did our basic human values become perverted in such a way that America was so easily duped by a conman? When did the fear of the unknown and unfamiliar overtake decency, kindness, and love?

At the end of the day, you have to live with your decisions. You have to wake up, look at yourself in the mirror, and know you will be able to sleep at night. It is not always an easy thing to do. I know I have struggled with doing what is right, at times, because the right thing to do was too hard to accept or too difficult to understand or too scary to contemplate. What is right is rarely easy.

Now, I don’t know what you believe, or even if you have read this far, but I do believe this. I believe that “arch of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice”. I believe that how we act and what we say speaks volumes, which reverberate beyond our singular life. I believe we are all inherently good, but somewhere along the way, we lose sight of what really matters.

So, I will not apologize for standing up for what is right. I will not apologize for speaking out against racism or sexism or any of the many other ideals currently embraced by too many Americans. I will only say that I will continue to try to be the best version of myself everyday that I can.

God, your conscience, or whatever else guides you and your life decisions have led you to here, to this moment. To a moment where you have to decide if you are okay with what is going on. To a moment where you can either do something or continue in silence.

Enough is enough. Because, I am no longer willing to subject myself to people who claim their love by trying to break me down or want me to hide who I am. I am no longer willing to subject myself to the company of others who approve of and go along with the moral collapse of this country and its values.

No one should have to live in this rising climate of fear. Fear of reporting assault and being deported. Fear of serving this country and being told you are unworthy because of your identity. Fear of going to sleep and wondering if it will be your turn next.

Do understand that the threats to our way of life and our democracy are very real and the actions being taken now will have lasting consequences. How we respond to today will, one way or another, reveal the very depths of our character.

Equality was a founding doctrine of America. And, while we may have not always followed the path of equality for every person on American soil, we have continued to, slowly but surely, make things better. But, things don’t just get better by themselves. Action is needed.

Resistance is not futile. Resistance is required. Resistance is hope.

Conversations with People Who (Verb) Me






In the midst of so much angst and hate and misgivings and doubt, how can one even possibly attempt to write about what is going on?

Where does one even start?

A loosely connected stream of conscious rant through things said and words meant and thoughts expanding and horizons possible?


Because, how am I supposed to respond when a coworker asks, “You ever go back to Oklahoma? Do they accept you? Or, are you just kind of a guest?”

How do I respond? When it was said completely out of nowhere as I sit at a round plastic table eating my “Women’s Health” blend of trail mix in the former cafeteria space, now staff lounge. Perhaps, I could have taken the guidance of the third episode of “Conversations with People Who Hate Me,” and began a dialogue. A dialogue to emphasize I am a real person. I am not something that is not to be believed in. I exist.

Because, how am I supposed to ignore the results of Facebook stalking my mom’s post and finding that she shared the following gem from my 7th/8th grade history and government teacher:

“So (redacted school district) is mulling over a name change for Robert E. Lee elementary because of Lee’s participation in the Civil War. Kind of silly don’t you think considering that Lee was a well respected leader before, during, and after the war.  He played a large roll in continuing education at college level serving as president of Washington and Lee University and raising it to one of leading colleges in the South after the war.  This whole movement to try and erase black marks in history is ignorant. Without the Civil War and the loyalty of all who fought in it, how much longer would slavery have lasted?  Changing names and removing monuments memorializing those involved will not erase that history.  It will not repair any of the damage of that era.  It changes nothing about how people feel today.  Those things need to remain in place to remind us that we do not want to repeat the mistakes of the past. What is next, blowing up Mount Rushmore because those presidents or their families held slaves?  The radical Muslim groups have tried this without success.  History does not change because memorials are removed.  History serves the purpose of creating CHANGE.  Hopefully, positive change.  For me, there is nothing positive about trying to change what happened in the past by trying to erase the evidence.”

And, I post this here, not with her permission, since I am not Facebook friends with her (or any of my family members for that matter), but due to a lack of privacy settings on her account, this post was made public for the world to see. So, I call dibs.

And, I do try to have a difficult conversation and follow the advice from my new podcast addiction.

I begin like this.

“Seriously? You are okay with monuments of the Confederacy?” (Perhaps, not the most diplomatic opening ever, but it is a start.)

“I liked what (redacted teacher’s name) said”

“Really? What part?”

“Can we argue tomorrow. I am having trouble sleeping and this will make it worse..”

“Sure. We can discuss this radical Christian traitor later.”

Again, not my most crowning moment of civil discussion, but the line “The radical Muslim groups have tried this without success” just bothers me to no end. So, the next day and before I get into the car to go see Brigsby Bear, I bring it up again.

“And, you still agree with the post you shared?”

“I see both sides. Yes I agree.”

“Really? How?”

“I thought the post was very clear”

“I am not sure what the argument in the post is. It is poorly written, difficult to follow, and just overall convoluted with a pinch of Islamaphobia.”

I don’t get another reply, and I can’t decide if I want one or not. Aside from the “both sides” argument ringing like a comment from the racist former host of Celebrity Apprentice, I don’t know what I want from this exchange.

Maybe, I just want to understand.

I just want to understand the different point of view that just seems outside of my realm of understanding.

It’s like on Twitter when someone from the #MAGA crowd posts a photoshopped picture of Democrats admitting 45 is president. I guess I just don’t understand the point. Just because something is the way it is doesn’t make it good or right or worth defending or worth arguing about. Posting a picture that simply states 45 is president doesn’t prove anything other than verifying, yes, while unbelievable, 45 is actually president.

But, just because he is president, that doesn’t mean he has good policies or high morals or is worthy of the office of president. Because, it is becoming clearer and clearer that he is sorely missing the mark.

But, I need a night away from it all, the news, the fear, the overwhelming sense of dread.

And, maybe, that is why I was totally enamored with Brigsby Bear.

Because it was a weird movie, but I loved it. It is one of the best movies I have seen in a long long time. And, I left the theater in a hazy fog of wonder. And, I felt ready to say what I needed to say, write what I needed to write, which brings me back almost full circle to this.

Why do I find my middle school social studies teacher’s post problematic?

Really? Robert E. Lee was a respected general? I wonder if the Union, or rather America at the time agreed with that, considering the fact that he was leading the war against America. Given the fact that he was a military traitor, leading a war against his own country in order to sustain slavery, it seems unlikely that he was well-respected.

But, I am not a history major, or even much of a history buff for that matter. So maybe, we should go with his own words. Since he was opposed to Confederate statues seeing how they “keep open the sores of war”.

Also, it is “role” not “roll”. If you are wanting to make a precise argument, check your homophones. Words matter. As far as I know, my former teacher is not an elected official but missing a homophone is in line with 45’s attempt to heel the nation.

And, what does this line even mean? “Without the Civil War and the loyalty of all who fought in it, how much longer would slavery have lasted?” Whose loyalty? Also, what? If all citizens had stayed loyal to the Union and stood against white supremacy then, would the Civil War even occurred? Unlikely.

And, the argument to remove Confederate statues has never been about removing and rewriting history. Instead, Confederate monuments were built to remind a subjugated people that while they were “free” they were not equal and must be reminded of their place.

And, to return to the great, what will happen next argument. “What is next, blowing up Mount Rushmore because those presidents or their families held slaves?” Just, ugh. Those individuals on Mount Rushmore actually contributed to the founding and success of this country, not its breaking and needless loss of life.

And, what is she even talking about her? “The radical Muslim groups have tried this without success.” Tried what? Who are these groups? Why do we have to attach “Muslim” as a descriptor? Because for historians keeping track, a radical Christian group took up arms against their countrymen and murdered for the sake of maintaining the inhumane institution of slavery. If you’re looking for a synonym for this group, go with Confederacy.

And, finally, no one is trying to erase history. Or, make people forget by removing these oppressive monuments. But, not everything deserves a monument. Just ask Germany when you look for the monuments dedicated to Hitler.

And to make a complete full circle, I really don’t know what my coworker meant by his questions.

But, I do know that this post got away from me.

I blame Brigsby Bear.


“Robert E. Lee Opposed Confederate Monuments”


“Baltimore’s Confederate Monument Was Never About ‘History and Culture’”


On Facebook, Now

Fast forward to now.

Why the return to the realm of social media?

Because in the gap between my last Facebook post with my original profile and the first post with my new profile, I only prowled around on Goodreads, a book rating and tracking social media service.

Why return?


Because at the end of January, the 45th president began implementing his attacks on America by pushing forward with his administration’s Muslim ban.

That night as protesters stormed U.S. airports and news pundits stood flabbergasted that the president was trying to deliver on his promise for a “total and complete shutdown” of Muslims entering the United States.

It was chaos.

And, I cried.

I cried knowing that this was only the beginning, and what made it evens worse was knowing many of my family supported and voted for the 45th president.

This was a policy they, in casting their vote, wanted to see occur.

It was wrong.

And, that night, as chaos reigned across the country, I followed it all with a newly created Twitter account. I could follow it in real-time, no longer waiting for a news website to update a story.

I livestreamed CNN from my iPad and constantly refreshed my Twitter page obsessively.

Days before, I had felt hope walking the streets of downtown Albuquerque as part of the nationwide Women’s March. Thousands of people gathered together to protest against the xenophobia, racism, corruption, and so much else that the 45th president and his administration campaigned on and would soon begin to implement.

As I watched the ACLU lawyers begin their legal proceedings to put a halt to this biased attack, I felt hopeless again.

And, I knew that I had to do more.

When I returned to work on  Monday after the ACLU successfully blocked the ban, a coworker announced during the “what-are-you-thankful-for-minutes-of-sharing” that children she volunteered with asked to go to the airport to protest the ban after a local protest organized through Facebook and began at the Albuquerque airport.

I had missed this.

With no Facebook, I missed a chance to do something about something fundamentally wrong.

It wouldn’t happen again.

In the next month, I made a new Facebook profile.

I made a new Facebook profile because I wanted a blank slate, and I was fundamentally aware that my parents did not want any of my extended family or their friends to find out what they wanted kept back in the closet. A new account allowed me a chance to enter into a social network with people I hoped had my back.

I wrote my post “To Whom It May Concern” and sent it to my parents and brother.


I videoed a reading of that post and posted it to my new Facebook profile and to my Twitter feed.


And over the following months, I would be informed that my mom would not Facebook friend me because she did not want to “hurt” my sisters, and I would inform a family member that while I have a Facebook profile, it would probably be in their best interest not to friend me.

The impending storm of disgust, prejudice, and shock always thundering in the background.

And, so to now.

Now, when my mom posted pictures from her and her parents trip to visit me, I added a friendly comment to her post.

Now, when I think to a time on my high school yearbook staff, I refriended someone, who I had not spoken to in years.

Now, when a friend posts an article in support of the transgender military ban from a blatantly conservative website, blatantly conservative because its is literally called the Conservative Tribune, I commented back with my personal point of view and evidence to support it.

Now, when I go back and forth with this person, I have to decide when enough is enough because neither of us will come to a consensus on this.

I don’t understand her point of view.

The bottom lines is this.

It is discrimination.

It is wrong.


Things are only going to get worse before they get better, and with a presidential administration in perpetual chaos, Facebook is still there.

It is there to “like” a picture of the Sandia Mountains.

It is there to hope for social justice.

It is there to celebrate a friend trying the build-your-own sushi shack.

It is there to resist.


“Gaga Attacks Trump Trans Ban, Then Has Bad Encounter With Iraq Vet”



“Here’s What Actual Trans Military Voices Have To Say About Trump’s Ban.”


“Assessing the Implications of Allowing Transgender Personnel to Serve Openly”


“Trump: I consulted the military about the transgender ban. Military: no, you didn’t.”


An Addendum’s Addendum

“Wanted you to know that I have the package you sent your dad. He’s in NY until next week. Not sure if you knew that?”

This was the text message I received from my stepmother yesterday. And, at least, I know that the package made its way there. What happens next is a mystery, but my optimism is not very high.

I did not know my dad was in New York. When I spoke to my grandparents on Valentine’s Day, they mentioned he was heading to the New England area, but I don’t remember if they mentioned D.C. or N.Y., and they didn’t say for how long. What I do remember is that they said, “Well, you already knew that” after saying he was traveling soon.

But, I didn’t know that. I haven’t spoken to him since I sent him a link to my blog post, “To Whom It May Concern,” and in five minutes, he sent back his text: “You’re lost son and i am praying you will find away out of this darkness .”

That was the last message I had gotten from him.

But, it isn’t the last message he has from me.

That message arrived at his home.

And within the large brown packing envelope, rests, folded and printed, a blog post to be given to my grandparents. And on the paper, in poorly legible hand, is an addendum for them to read.

What happens from here scares me. What happens from here will likely hurt. What happens from here does not fill me with hope, especially as the new president continues an attack on everything that made America great.

If America was ever great, I find it harder and harder to continue to believe she still is as Republicans cower as revelations of collusion with Russia are hidden from the light, environmental protections are obliterated by a man in the pocket of the oil and gas industry, a new education secretary fails to stand up to a fascist demagogue in regards to transgender rights and wants to implement a school voucher system that research shows does not work, and the bigot who acts as if he has unlimited power unleashes what he calls a “military operation” to deport families and others trying to build a better life for themselves.

If this is what America has become, she no longer stands for liberty and is no longer the home of the brave. There is nothing beautiful about what is happening now.

But, perhaps, hope remains.

Perhaps, there is a chance.

What will you do with that chance?