I’d like to share with you a little bit about where I “come from.”
I am the son of a father who was a Dutch immigrant.
I am the son of a mother who was born in the south (Tennessee, to be exact.)
My father’s father was Dutch and my father’s mother was born a non-practicing German Jew.
She and her parents were captured by the Nazis during WWII, her parents were killed and she served in somewhere between 13-14 different concentration camps up until Hitler died and she was rescued.
Later, she became Catholic to marry my Opa.
On my mother’s side, you only have to go back so far to see that it wasn’t that long ago that we had people of a different color working for the family. My great aunts and uncles had crops of soy and cotton fields.
Also on my mother’s side, you’d find that we have proximity to the Chickasaw Indians.
Suffice to say, there were things that happened on both sides of my family where history as we know it, was not kind.
Nevertheless, I was raised by people who taught me not to hate:
Not to hate people of a different color.
Not to hate people of a different religion.
Not to hate people of a different sexual preference.
Not to hate people of a different political party.
And not just to be without hatred, but to be with them from a place of learning, of understanding, of listening, and of accepting.
I am of a generation where we (as children) thought it was funny to insult people with words like retard and f*ggot.
I am of a generation where we (as children) thought it was funny to tell jokes about the Jewish community, the Polish community, and the queer community.
I am not above juvenile humor but some things that I used to find funny, just aren’t anymore and you’re not going to hear me use the words retard or f*ggot to describe, much less insult, anyone.
I was raised in a God-fearing home but God was not a weapon in our home.
Nor was the bible.
I take these nearly fifty years of lessons to embrace my brothers and sisters who are BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People Of Color).
I take these nearly fifty years of lessons to embrace my brothers and sisters who are LGBTQIA+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, Questioning, Intersex, Asexual).
I keep at distance people who lead with hate, people who lead with violence, and especially, people who hurt children.
I am a survivor of childhood trauma.
Children must be kept safe.
I never thought I would live to see the day where I would fear sending my boys to school.
Both of my boys go to private schools and I understand that they are never truly safe.
Not in this world.
On that, I have very little opinion about guns.
I respect that people like to hunt and feel the need to protect their homes.
I respect that hunting is just as much an American pastime as fishing or football.
I just have some questions…
Why are our schools being shot up?
Why are our children not safe?
What world are we leaving to our children if we cannot keep them safe?
These sentiments are expressed for the children of Charlie Kirk.
And also for the siblings of Tyler Robinson.
I watched as social media was set ablaze last week and both left and right parties were guilty of truly awful sentiments.
Both parties.
Both with violence, both with hatred, both with vengeance and retribution.
We’re leaving a world behind that is dragging us further and further away from hope.
I won’t teach my sons to hate.
I won’t teach them to be disrespectful.
I won’t teach them to use scripture as a way to belittle people.
I won’t be able to control their every move and all of their intention.
But they won’t learn hate in our home.
Not because we’re perfect parents or perfect people, but because we hold space and respect for people of all kinds, races, beliefs, cultures, and socio-economic standings.
I sit here and ask myself, as I ask you, what is more important: that we teach our children how to shoot or that we equip our children with mental health professionals?
I work with and have the utmost respect for members of the police force, trained to protect us.
I work with and have the utmost respect for the veterans who served to protect our country.
I know that we cannot live in a world without their sacrifices.
I saw a lot of people praying for Charlie Kirk and the family left behind.
I didn’t see as many people praying for the school that was shot up by a young man allegedly tied to anti-semitic groups.
Why aren’t these prayer warriors praying for all of this in equal measure?
I don’t have answers, I just have a head full of thoughts.
…I feel as if there’s a strange connection between people who aren’t accepted and understood, who then lash out to attack others.
And that, there’s an equally strange thing that happens where an individual, rather than seeking to be understood, says to themselves, in their darkest hours: I don’t want to be accepted, I want to live in infamy.
And social media makes it so.
I want to understand a world where people approach others with a bible in one hand, a shotgun in the other and expect to be met with kindness.
We have an obligation to keep our children safe.
Whether you’re a parent or not, our children inherit the world we leave for them.
So, what world are we leaving them and when you look in the mirror, are you happy with the direction it’s heading?
And lastly, I know there are gaps in my opinions and gaps in my understanding of the world around me. I hold my door open to hear your thoughts, not to fight with you but to understand you.
I hope that, at the very least, we can agree that hatred has gone too far.
(Photo courtesy of Shane Rounce)
