"Who Radicalized You?"

"I'll be in denial for at least a little while."

“Don’t be angry with people who have different views than you.” they say, while actively casting a ballot that may cost me and millions of others their lives. “Who radicalized you?” they ask me, as all the women I know are holding each other in tears.

The religion I grew up in that told me to “love my neighbor” while proceeding to fund anti-LGBTQ legislature. The religion that taught me that everyone was made in gods image, to love everyone, to serve, to help, to protect. The religion that then showed me I can only be loved and protected if I am a straight white man. 

My friends of color who I watch get treated differently than me. My friends of color who, all before age 10, knew they were going to be treated differently for the rest of their lives. My friends of color who continue to amaze me in depth, empathy, and strength in a world hell bent on silencing them. My friends of color who showed me life was bigger and more expansive than the bubble I was raised in. 

My grandmother who told me to my face she would “love me less if I was gay.” The grandmother who still doesn’t know that I am. 

The first time I knew I had feelings for women. The immediate fear that something was wrong with me, the immediate need to prove that the feelings weren’t real. The first girl I kissed. The overwhelming confirmation that the feelings were correct. The continued years of fear that I will never be able to love a woman loudly for our safety.

The first time I heard “gay” used as an insult. The first person to call me a slur.

My female friends who have been sexually assaulted. My female friends who cried with me on the 6th. My female friends who mourn with me and with the world. My female friends who now live in fear. My female friends who held each other in a group hug as we watched the world around us move forward like nothing happened.

My father who told me I can “be anything I want when I grow up” and then supported a rapist. My father who showed me I can be anything I want, except safe. 

Growing up poor. The taxes that are going to raise. Watching my mom stress over bills and taking care of three children on her own. The EBT we need. The tariffs that will directly effect her business. The fear for my family. 

My uncle who showed me that it’s not “all men”. My uncle who showed me that supportive, educated, loving, stable men exist. My uncle who continues to undo so much fear by loudly showing emotion, love, and support for the women in his life.

The education system. Basic history lessons, economics courses, and culture courses. Education is power. There is a reason the highly educated vote blue. There is a reason more books will soon be banned. There is a reason the Board of Education is now in jeopardy.

The failure of the medical system. The preventable loss of my entire colon. Medicaid failing me as the only insurance I can afford. Watching Medicaid fail so many like me. Watching the news, wondering what day even the bare minimum health care will be taken from me. Wondering if I will die when that day comes. 

Basic empathy and feeling for people who are not myself. Putting the needs of others over self interest. Compassion.

When they ask “Who radicalized you?”, my answer will be: how is this radical? How are you not more angry? How are human rights even on the table? How did you as a claimed “loved one” actively vote against the rights of women, people of color, the LGBTQ+ community, innocent Palestinians, and the poor? You cannot proclaim love and then vote to take our rights away. You cannot proclaim love and actively choose harm.  

I am not radicalized, I am scared. I am hurt. I am angry. If you are not angry, you do not know enough. This is personal. This has always been personal.