Everyone Will Hate This Blog Post

I have the unfortunate priveledge of being both conservative and liberal, depending on the issue. What that means is that I’m pretty universally frowned upon and called names. So usually I make the changes I can to bring light to the world and keep my opinions off of social media. But this, this bothers me. So, without further ado, I present the world’s most unpopular blog post.

A number of years ago, I was involved in a series of conversations regarding abortion. Well, I tried to get involved. The unfortunate fact was that I could never get a few sentences out before I was interrupted with spouts of rhetoric. “Free abortion on demand no apologies.” “Keep your rosaries off my ovaries.” “It’s just a ball of cells.” And no matter how much I tried to get to my points, I was never able to. And I had things to say. I had studied fetal development. Extensively. In fact, I had a baby that was 26 weeks developmentally that I prayed for and fought for. That I held in my arms. That I watched respond to pain. That I watched try to fight the intubation to turn his head towards the sound of my voice. Who grasped my finger. I wanted to say things, but it seems like the people I was talking to were so intent to hear what I was saying as a threat to their ideals, a threat to their rights, that they weren’t even willing to hear me. I remember being in tears and saying “Have we truly come so far that we can’t even agree that killing babies is wrong?” Not talking about the circumstances under which they were conceived. Not talking about the circumstances in which they were born. Not talking about whose rights trump whose. Those are good conversations for later. For the moment though I was just wanting to agree that taking the life away from a sentient human being who can feel it, who is the epitome of innocent, is not okay. And no, no we couldn’t even go that far. I’ll never understand that. I’ll never not be heartbroken. Because that should be a common ground that we can find.

So, now we have Nazis. Actual, swastika wearing, saluting, SELF-PROCLAIMED Nazis. I feel like the last is important. Because this is not someone being called a Nazi by someone a bit overzealous who has decided that anyone who doesn’t believe what they do deserves that moniker. This is someone who PROUDLY CHOSE that title. They may think they have their reasons, but I’d like to take a minute to refer to Julius Goat who said "Historians have a word for Germans who joined the Nazi party, not because they hated Jews, but because out of a hope for restored patriotism, or a sense of economic anxiety, or a hope to preserve their religious values, or dislike of their opponents, or raw political opportunism, or convenience, or ignorance, or greed.

That word is... NAZI.Nobody cares about their motives anymore.They joined what they joined. They lent their support and their moral approval. And, in so doing, they bound themselves to everything that came." 

And they are gathering, barefaced, and publicly. Which leads me to believe that either they are so entrenched in their belief system that they don’t care about the consequences they will face, or they believe that they are in the majority and will thus face no consequences. Either is terrifying. And people are freaked out. Rightfully so. This is scary stuff. Nazis are the boogeymen of all of our lives, yeah? People whose very titles implies imminent threat. And yet people I love and admire, GOOD people are so stuck debating issues that they are actually defending Nazis. I don't think they mean to do so, but that's really how it seems. I don’t want to talk about Southern Pride. I don’t want to talk about how the current culture of xenophilia and how that has contributed. I don’t want to talk about Antifa. Not right now, not at the beginning. No more than I wanted to be interrupted with shouts of "YOU WANT WHITE MEN TO LEGISLATE MY VAGINA" before. I cannot believe that we cannot look around and agree on the fact that HAVING NAZIS OPENLY MARCHING ON AMERICAN SOIL IS BAD. Say it. Out loud. Maybe you believe it, but I need to hear you say that, see you type that, first and foremost. Loudest. Say they are reprehensible. Then we will talk details.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m too close. Maybe I look at my family of 6 and see that, if these people had their way, only two would survive. Maybe I picture my Asian child in a wheelchair trying to get away from someone with a swastika on their arm. Or trying to explain to my autistic son that he has, has HAS to be still and quiet for a little while, just a little while, okay baby? Maybe I’ve seen too many websites, recent websites, dedicated to the eradication of “gypsies” and the Romani blood in me is screaming. Just like maybe I was too close when I heard people equate my son, my premature baby who even as he turned purple from lack of oxygen tried to open his eyes to look at his mama when he heard her telling him to let go, to a ball of cells or an inconvenience. Or maybe I’m close enough. I’m close enough to see that sometimes, before we can debate  minutiae, we have to be willing to get out of our own head enough to admit universal wrongs.

Then we can go from there. Please. Let’s go from there.