Words I Wish I Didn’t Have To Say
When I was 13 years old, it was the 2016 election. I’ll never forget the heated discussions throughout the middle school halls, but more vividly I remember my Christian school history teacher expressing her political views in the classroom. She was one of the most “Christian” women I’d ever met, and by that I mean she had a Bible verse for every situation, started each day gathering prayer requests and speaking such eloquent, beautiful words to God in a tone that invited peace as we connected with the Lord. Put simply, I looked up to her. She was an early example of what I believed a Christian should be (frankly because that small school environment was all I’d known) even when I knew her extremist views about why we shouldn’t watch Disney films didn’t sit right with me. Every time the pixie dust formed a sparkly arch over the castle at the beginning of a movie, I wondered if I should feel guilty for watching it.
The private Christian school I went to was tiny. If I remember correctly, there were only about 11 students in my seventh grade class, including myself. Most children, when discussing politics at school, reiterate what they hear their parents say, or what their parents’ news channel of choice has to say about the topic. You’re probably not surprised that the majority of parents and teachers at my school were republicans.
One day, I don’t remember how long before the election, someone asked what the difference was between democrats and republicans. I raised my hand, because I had asked my dad this question before and we’d talked about it. “Democrats are more for helping the lower and middle class, and republicans are for the rich,” I said proudly. My teacher pursed her lips into a frown like she typically did, and slowly said, “Oh, that’s an… interesting way to look at it.” I still have no regrets for raising my hand.
As election day loomed closer and closer, all but one of my classmates declared how awful Hilary Clinton is. She wants abortion! She wants gay rights! Donald Trump is a Christian! I didn’t exactly know how to argue against these things. I remember arguing that Trump insults women and Mexicans, both large parts of my identity. No one seemed to care about that. In their eyes, Clinton was the devil and I was her advocate.
I hate to admit that my middle school “friends” are honestly the people whose mean voices I still hear in my head. No one is ever 100% a mean or bad person. I cherish lots of fun memories with the girls who I saw everyday at school between kindergarten and eighth grade, like our sleepovers, silly made up games on the playground, and after school trips to Starbucks. It’s hard to detangle the good from the bad, because while they’d argue that they were good friends, they also often made me feel ignored, like I wasn’t cool enough for not liking the songs and shows they liked, like I did something wrong because teachers liked me, and like I was the one democrat in a sea of red.
One girl’s parents were democrats, however, she went along with the crowd agreeing that Trump was the savior this country needed. “We don’t have to follow what our parents believe, Saundri, we can have our own beliefs,” she said. I don’t remember my response word-for-word, but I recall being appalled. I think I told her something about not having to follow the crowd, that she’s right—we can have our own beliefs, which was exactly why I would never lean toward supporting Trump.
Election day arrived, and my history teacher had us cast our own votes on ripped up pieces of lined paper. The one other student who overtly did not side with Trump was absent that day. The image of my teacher is still ingrained in my memory so well. I was sitting in the front of class while she gathered the pieces of folded paper, opening them up one by one and placing them all in their distinct pile. And lastly, she held mine up, the lone vote that wasn’t for a criminal masked as an angel. I’d still cast the same vote.
I’m proud of my 13 year old self for standing firm in her beliefs, for not submitting to peer pressure, and for knowing her morals. I have compassion for the girl who did not know how to articulate her feelings about politics, and frankly even today, at 21 years old, I still struggle to find the right words to say, because I keep thinking to myself, Shouldn’t it be obvious? Shouldn’t innocent humans simply be treated with dignity and respect? The amount of dehumanization that keeps repeating itself throughout history to today is disheartening, and it’s easy to lose hope of humanity ever coming to its senses. I shouldn’t have to say that you shouldn’t treat someone inhumanely because of the color of their skin. People can say all they want about the different reasons they use to justify maltreatment, but nothing can convince me that it isn’t pure racism driving the current immigration crisis.
As someone from Los Angeles, it’s not only the news coverage of the protests breaking my heart. It’s knowing that people I love, who haven’t done anything wrong, are living in fear because someone can simply take a look at them, make assumptions, and treat them inhumanely. If you don’t think that’s pure evil I don’t know how to explain to you that it is.
Another voice I hear in my head is one classmate claiming that Mexico “sends their criminals to the U.S.” The amount of anger pulsing through my blood even all these years later is insane. I simply shouldn’t have to say how untrue that is.
I shouldn’t have to say that our current administration is not upholding what it means to be a democracy. “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America,” is the preamble to the Constitution. I shouldn’t have to say we’re not establishing Justice right now. I shouldn’t have to say that sending the National Guard to peaceful protestors is authoritarian. Amendment IV of the Bill of Rights says, “The right of people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.” The Declaration of Independence argues “that among these [unalienable Rights] are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.” I shouldn’t have to say that basic human rights are not met when people—citizens or not— are afraid to go outside. I shouldn’t have to say that millionaires running the country is oligarchy. I shouldn’t have to say that although there are ugly parts of our country’s history, the core tenet of democracy is that the government is meant to do its best to ensure ALL good, virtuous people are protected.
A flashback of stories keeps running through my mind. I think about stories like The Grapes of Wrath and how the Okies were marginalized for being poor and different. I think of Knives Out and the loving nurse who lived in fear, hoping her mother wouldn’t get deported. I think of Under the Same Moon, the mother and son longing to be reunited across hundreds of miles. I think of the people I know personally who came to the U.S. and worked harder than I’ve ever needed to, simply to survive. You can’t possibly still believe that detaining innocent people is okay when you know the people, whether through real life or fiction. Even in fiction, nothing is truer than the empathy that is built for the marginalized.
In my very first blog post “What Ever Happened to The Romantics?” I wrote, “To me, romanticism is not about ignoring or denying the reality that evil exists in this world. Rather, it is a conscious decision to acknowledge the difficult climate we live in, but choosing to cultivate the goodness and beauty that still surrounds us.” Even today, in all the chaos that has ensued in Los Angeles, I choose to find beauty in the people I love, the people whose safety and protection I pray for, and the possibility of a more empathetic world if we all chose to see each other for the humanity they share.
Thankfully, I’ve found much better, more accurate examples of Christianity since those awkward middle school days. My mentors and best friends have enacted God’s love by engaging in rich conversations, lifting me up, and ultimately treating me and everyone they encounter with the respect and dignity every human deserves.
Today, more than ever, what this world needs most is love stories. I’m not just talking about romance, but stories that revitalize hope, display meaning in individuality, reflect kindness, and serve as a reminder that even in the darkest of times, love is the strongest form of unity.
Books and Movies I recommend:
–The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
–Beautiful World Where are You by Sally Rooney
–Knives Out (2019)
–Under the Same Moon (La Misma Luna) (2007)
–Like Water For Chocolate by Laura Esquivel
–Black Was Not A Label by Kathryn H. Ross
–The Boy in The Striped Pajamas (2008)
