Little do we know… why President Trump has support…

Citizen d'Amour
Aug 22, 2017 · 9 min read

Little do we the see the pain of another
when blinded through anger,
The value of an other’s life
when they’ve walked a different path,
The love we could reap
by sowing only love.

This story begins with a piece I spoke to no one, which I was to give at a little rally titled “Free Speech” in Boston on Saturday, and whether by providence or knowing ended up across the fence from those I had penned to speak with. It is for the best, as that I learned amongst the crowd so perfectly captures the essence of our argument.

I was, in typical fashion, at a different gate when the clock struck noon, and thus was asking politely to be to allowed down the aisle.

I am no one in this sphere, and had a place on the bandstand by mere happenstance and personal will. I learned most about the rally from my cohorts at Impact Hub, where many think of me as a contrarian. This is a necessity I shoulder to keep the conversation alive; my small way to prevent (ideological) genocide (i.e. myopia). A new face spoke up in conversation as a fellow contrarian, and I decided to speak for all those who would be at the Common.

Point of contact

I wrote my speech, had it erased once by happenstance, wrote another, by morning had my name on the list for midway in the program, a third draft, and let time happen as it needed.

The lineup

I asked the officers at the North gate for passage, and was directed to another aisle. My favorite quip from the day was an ad hominem by a sickeningly incredulous voice,

“So that’s the master race.”

spoken at my back as I walked from gate to gate. Were I lesser human, I would have paused to thank him (at the least the vocals were male-ish), and in the interest of time (as I know when I’m on schedule) continued my movement through the crowd.

Every type I imagined (and more) was there: the neo-hippie, the lover, the fighter, the instigator, the blind, the righteous, and the no ones.
Thus I ended (and began) at the (second) gate, six minutes past, with two copies and a digital of my speech.

Unabashed to say that I was unafraid to speak,

“What’s happened to the ideals of our founding?”

was the meaning of one man after learning I was “on the list.”

I pulled a passage from my speech, as it was best to maintain my purpose there,
“This country… for all human beings…”
There is Troll and alTruist, and the games we play on each other. The hurtful stereotypes, which are now unlawful slurs in many contexts, were used as tools of oppression and are much the same as what we see now with

“Neo-nazi” “nigger” “far-right” “fag” “alt-right” “left-wing” “nut job” “quack.”

We charge these terms to use as bludgeons against those we choose to perceive as foe.

My… surprise isn’t quite the term, of the young black men yelling for the “Fags to get out here.” Berating the police for protecting their brothers from the brutality of men (or would children be a better word).

I stood in the midst of this hypocrisy for an hour, and I hope I was not the only one to say “thank you” to an individual in uniform.

I had given my scripts to two men whom my hopes go with, emailed Ms./Mrs. Beta the reporter a digital, and calmly towards a coffee as the men and women, whom I would have been among, were brought through the blood-crying crowds with protections of steel and order.

When I defend humanity, it is rarely for their words or actions (as I have well hinted to the nature of pro- and opponent), and is in defense of that which they can be.

To speak on the violence of these current days; to seek the death of another is heinous, and as those come to you seeking death… stand one’s ground. Asimov penned that “violence is the last refuge of the incompetent,” and I would be hard pressed for better words.

I have appended my speech, as to be delivered, and my only note is the predictability within my foreword.

Sincerely.

_____________________as drafted_____________________

Word is Power, and forcing any man to silence is illegal in no small part to this realization. Power may be used for greatness or infamy.
I am glad for those in the crowd that are now calling me a white supremist, bigot, or otherwise because you’re exercising your power to be wrong. I hold no judgement for this, as failure is a wonderful part of being human: it gives us the opportunity to learn what success is. I’d like you all to succeed, as each success contributes to our Great Nation.

so I’ve put aside my fear of political, personal, and professional repercussion that might come from my speaking here today to help with just that.

I can guess at why you all stand before me, some questioning who I am while the sidelines hurl insults in my direction. I consider you all justified in your attitudes, if I find your motives questionable, and I feel we may agree to agree that there is a far way for this country to go.

I am no one, save a loyal citizen of the free nation of America, and our recent dialog has left me wondering where exactly that is.

I wear the privilege of a white face, a collared shirt, and use the language of intellectuals. I know this privilege full well because I’ve experienced how quickly that shatters in light of my murdered father and the political warring which left me an orphan within a broken family.

I lived through the hell of childhood in some unique ways.

Parents would let me know that their children couldn’t play with me, I endured the leers and ceaseless pranks of my peers, and I withdrew to my mind as the salvation of a forgotten life.

My privilege is that success is expected of my past, and I have been blessed with the experience of failure.

I have been an outcast from almost every circle, by virtue of my color or the shame of my family, and lived in fear that my few friends might one day discover the facts of my life. Fear of change, fear of difference, fear of the unknown. I, like many in these crowds, had let fear usurp my morality.

My mind was a point of salvation, the one place I could speak with the two individuals who understood me: my Father and Holy Spirit.

I learned how to make others bleed with my mind: experience, as they say, is a great teacher and my wounds were an ever pouring fountain.

This blood and my tears mingled to form a toxic drink that I consumed by the gallon, darkening my world and feeling full well the effects upon my soul… until I’d had enough.

I understand fear because I have had to vanquish that insipid foe, and stand before you knowing full well that I may become the effigy you burn for relief.
It’s okay, I’m used to it. If that is what you need, then I offer you my flesh at the price of your attention.

I’m here because your hate can have no effect on me.

I’ve hated myself and lived to love again; should any one among you learn to love again, I will consider my life well lived.

I cannot say I understand what it means to be black, Asian, Jewish, or any of these aesthetic traits we speak of today. I can say that I understand oppression, and I will not be shamed into submission by the color of my skin, your refusal to understand, or any god save my Lord Almighty (and even then, we’d debate).

I proudly stand here to share my painful story because there is a deep wound afflicting my country, the wound of a people divided by their color blindness.
My brothers and sisters, we have blinded ourselves by color.

I stand in the eye of this storm because I understand what it means to be the other, and am foolhardy enough to say so.

Those who took me in were the outcasts of outcasts, the queers, the disabled, the homeless, the alien, the criminal. My best friend serves a life sentence, and I’ve borne every insult imagined in free company. I learned to ask hard questions and question soft policy. I began to care about why you represent what you do, and became champion of free speech as a tool to understand one another.

Harmony, that blessed peace of many voices as one, can only last through such dialog and mutual understanding.

So I ask you the hard question: why are you here?

I am here because I know that silence is death, and that those pushing for silence are no less guilty of death-dealing than any trigger-man. I am here to call out the death-dealers and demand acknowledgement for everyone’s role in this modern hate.

Are you here because you believe that we should fix the wrongs of our present, or are you here to bicker and fight about who is right?
This country has no color, no language, and no religion because we are all who yearn to breathe free. Our only enemy is ourselves and our willingness to abdicate personal morality.

Only an individual can be moral, as we live that morality within the context of our life.

They who steal to eat are criminal, and equally criminal are they who demand punishment.

This United States of America was founded on the principals of liberty, equity, and understanding; with the presupposition of free will and the equal right of all human beings to the pursuit of life and happiness.

Our history has long since become fact to the failings of this ideal, and I am well acquainted with how facts can be used to cause pain; if we let them.
Research shows that people feel better, sooner by ignoring their shame and hurt. I’ve lived that life and can honestly say that I’ve never felt better than after a good, hard look at why someone wanted to hurt me.

I look at these crowds and I see my fellows, Americans, and I feel the pain that comes from our mutual silence.

My young self asked a friend why his skin was darker than mine; and to this day I have seen little that could not be better by honesty, curiosity, and good will.

We are different, come from different places, have learned different things, and that’s good.

We may use our differences to learn, our free speech to understand, and our peaceful demonstration to grow.

So that we might heal the wounds of old and become the Great Nation we are meant to be, many of us could learn a lesson from my younger self.
Our language about racism and oppression has become dated, twisted by generations of struggle and cultural push to ignore our pain.

We need a fresh look at the language we use to address our world, better questions to ask of each other, and more patience to listen.

A wise man once said:
That which we do not know, we have no way of knowing.
Until we ask and listen.

God be with us all, please speak freely, and this no one is listening.
-Citizen D’Amour

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