when love is a whisper and hate is a roar it feels hard to know how to speak again.
we are mad now and hurt. our fabric has been torn apart. our ceiling wasn’t broken and left us broken on the floor and weeping. searching for an exit or an answer. listening for the voice we thought we had.
and now while it’s tempting to seek an exit strategy i also feel that i need an introduction. to a place that i don’t know. to a country that i thought was stronger and bigger. one that is accepting of all people and all races and all genders and one that was actively reaching towards a brighter day and a greater hope for everyone.
but just as fear has prompted this reaction, of isolation and contempt and anger and separation, we must not also hide. let us not seek comfort in the mundane. let us never be pleasantly complacent. let us stop seeking solace in a bubble of perceived acceptance. let our distraction not become our destruction but be a vehicle for change and for unity and for progress.
because our voice is still here. and I hope that when we regain it, our voice will be strong and dignified and unwavering.
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