Good evening everyone!
I thought about posting earlier today. To be honest, this has been formulating in my head for a couple of days now. Work happened (still love my job, even on days where it’s insane), and I’ve been feeling like crap since I woke up. The one downside to working from home. There’s no one else to make sick, and no one cares if you’re swaddled in blankets. So, you tend to suck it up and get stuff done even when your body’s telling you to stay in bed. LOL
I’m not going to discuss politics tonight. Not really. The election is over and done, we have a new President. Even if it’s not the person I voted for, I will respect the office he holds. What bothers me the most right now is the fear and ignorance that’s tearing the country of my birth apart.
America was never meant to be a nation that followed a single faith, or turned away those in need. The brave individuals that left everything behind to create a new life in this land did so because they felt they had no other choice. They were being persecuted for their faith, told they couldn’t live the life they did because they were ‘different’.
Others feared them, out of ignorance.
Now, as I write this, I’m starting to understand that fear. I’m not Christian. Never claimed here to be of that faith. Does that mean that I’ll be getting comments telling me to ‘go home’ or that I’m a murderer? I hope not. I was born and raised in this country. I’m not here illegally. Nor were my parents, grandparents, or great grandparents. Heck, on my dad’s side, the family’s been traced back to the second ship after The Mayflower.
But that doesn’t mean I should sit back and watch as my neighbors are attacked, denied an education, due process, or hauled away at night.
As an author, I’m in a strange spot. I’m certainly not famous enough for anyone to hire me to come to a rally and make a speech. My approach to the current crisis is one as a private citizen. I’m not about to tell potential readers that they’re wrong if they see something differently than I do.
We can write, though. We can take the need to do something and turn it into our stories. Send our characters through situations that make the reader think. Educate them on the realities of the world while we entertain them. Make them think that maybe Wiccans aren’t devil worshippers (I don’t know HOW many times I’ve been called that, LOL) because they read a book that presented it differently. Create a sympathetic and relatable main character that gets detained at an airport for no reason other than the color of their hair, or where they went on vacation.
We let our words bridge the gap between fear and reason. Between ignorance and enlightenment. Between love and hate.