A Letter To The Hopeless

I know you’re scared. I’m scared too.

So what do we do?

First, we grieve. We let our heart break — fully, completely and utterly. We let our pain and disappointment run its course.

Then, we do what we always do, we do what we must do — we rise.

We rise to the occasion.

We go forth and hammer and forge our destiny — despite the odds, despite the challenges and despite the somber hymn sung by many in the nation today.

We fight for it. Just like the founding fathers did, who under insurmountable pressure and discord somehow managed to manifest the impossible. Not with violence, but with intelligence, tact and courage. With perseverance, creativity and cooperation.

In the end, it distills down to a simple choice. We can either be victims or victors. But we can’t be both. We are free to choose, though I wholeheartedly recommend the latter.

Easy for me to write, I know; a walking embodiment of white male privilege and direct beneficiary of my genetic heritage. I won’t deny it. I won’t act as if I’ve ever walked a mile in your shoes.

All I can say is this: to all minorities, members of the LGTB community and the under and un-represented — this may feel like the end of the world for some of you. Certainly it’s a time rife with fear and uncertainty.

But never forget: you are some of the strongest among us.

Those of you who have faced incalculable levels of discrimination, judgment and hate: I cannot fathom the world seen through eyes, heard through your ears or felt through your touch.

All I know for certain is this: people are counting on you to keep going. You carry the torch for all whom you represent. If you were to give up now, all the sacrifices you have collectively made will have been for naught.

It is not over. This is not the end.

Your mission is important, for you are the flag bearers.

So, I address this to whom and whatever you are or identify with: black, white, Muslim or female — if it feels as if you’ve just been punched in the gut and you’re gasping for air or as if Democracy has been dealt a devastating blow — I urge you to take it in stride.

I plead with you to stand up, wipe the sweat and blood off your brow and keep fighting. What did we expect? We knew Democracy was not for the faint hearted.

We can start with the smallest, seemingly most insignificant things.

Help people. Pick someone up off the ground, shake him or her off, and let them know that you’re with them. Smile at them. Be kind to your brothers and sisters. Look them in the eye. Give hope to the hopeless; wipe away their tears. Be a shelter to the weak.

Create something. Show the world that the light has not gone dim within you. Give us something that will elevate us, that will renew our infinite expectation of the dawn — a piece of music, book, painting or a kind word — anything.

Rip out your broken heart and smear it on a piece of paper and create. Let it bleed on a blank canvas. Show us that it’s still a miracle to be a human being. Give us your gift.

Make us laugh. Remind us of the perpetual folly and hilarity of the human condition. Bring us back from the brink, bring us back to life.

Be a leader. Set an example. Show the world you stand for tolerance, understanding and courage. Demonstrate that you are willing to walk tall through challenges and calamities, that you are a beacon of hope. Roll up your sleeves, get to work, and prove to us that there is still a world worth fighting for.

Look, we can’t promise each other that everything is going to be alright. We can only promise that we’re going to walk through these uncertain times together, hand in hand, through the fires and trials of adversity.

Indeed, many of us feel let down by this country and by our democracy. Let us not let each other down, not when we need each other the most.

Please, do not give up now. There is work to be done. Your work, our work. Easier said than done? Always. But necessary? More than ever before.

We cannot afford to abandon each other, not now, not after we have come so far. We cannot afford to allow this opportunity to go to waste on hate, judgment and fear. Instead, we can demonstrate true leadership, true grit and true solidarity.

If you are still breathing, your mission is not complete. You still have a gift to give, and we are all counting on you to give it. Continue to carry the torch for all that is good and true in this world.

We all have a part to play in this drama; just play your part well. That’s all anyone can ask.

In the wake of our generation’s greatest challenge —

Let this be our finest hour.