I Beg to Differ

It's hard to believe that my son Matt and my daughter-in-law Becca have been married for almost eight years, and it's even harder to believe that Becca actually married Matt after she got to know his crazy family. I'm sure I didn't realize it at the time, but I should have known just how deeply Becca loved Matt when she joined Brad, Meghann and I on a road trip to go hear Matt preach at the little country church when he was a youth minister. I can't remember now whose idea it was that we play the game "I've Never" as we traveled, but I will never forget the "I've never ..." statement Brad used to win the game. In case you aren't familiar with the game, each person holds up 10 fingers and each player says something they've never done, said or been with the hope that the other players have done, said or been those somethings. If they have, they have to put down a finger ... the last person with a finger still up wins the game. Though I still can't believe he actually said it, I have to admit that as the only male in a car with three women, Brad's answer was sheer genius. He didn't flinch or bat an eye as he calmly said, "I've never had a period." Not that our family has ever needed proof of Brad's over-the-top desire to win every game he plays, but his winning declaration that day forever proved the intensity of my "go big or go home" son's competitive spirit.

A few days after I returned from Canada in February, I wrote a post titled "I Just Stood There" about the hate-filled comments concerning the transgender pilot of our flight and my shameful confession about standing there and doing nothing in response. I wasn't at all surprised when I began receiving a plethora of emails regarding that post, but I was shocked that so many of the notes said basically the same thing ... that I did exactly what I should have done ... hung my head in shame, prayed the men didn't notice me, fought back the tears and kept my mouth shut. I got hundreds of messages telling me that staying quiet and not speaking out against the hatred the men were spewing was the right thing to do ... the safe thing to do ... the only thing to do. The more notes I read telling me to never ever speak up in a situation such as the one that occurred in the Edmonton airport that cold February morning, the more it weighed on me ... obviously ... more than a month later, it's still weighing on me. It's weighing on me so much that I simply must beg to differ with those who admonished me for feeling guilty because I didn't speak up ... I beg to differ in a big, huge way ... sorry, but I do.

The truth is the situation with the transgender pilot isn't the first time I've heard or seen hatred in action, and it's also not the first time I stood by and did nothing in the presence of that hatred. I've heard and seen some really vile and nasty commentary poured out on other people ... heck, I've had it poured out on me personally. But here's the thing ... the hateful and disgusting things those guys said about the pilot that day could have just as easily been directed toward anyone who was different from them. They may not use the same words, but the same hate rears its ugly head every day ... toward differing races and nationalities ... toward those who are disabled or handicapped ... toward people who are obese ... toward folks with mental illness ... toward Christians ... toward atheists ... toward the elderly ... toward the young ... toward you ... toward me ... yep, hate rears its ugly head every single day in a million different ways, friends ... you bet it does ... you bet it does indeed.

Now before you slam me with a million emails, I'm not saying I should speak up every single time someone speaks in a derogatory manner about or to someone else ... I'm not completely stupid just yet. What I am saying is that if everyone does what I did at the airport ... nothing ... if everyone does nothing, then nothing will ever be done. And if nothing ever gets done ... if everyone stands with their heads hung in shame ... if everyone prays not to be seen ... if everyone fights back the tears of injustice ... if everyone keeps their mouths shut, then hate wins. If everyone remains silent, then silence will be all that remains. I beg to differ that I did the right thing in the airport that day ... I beg to differ that my personal safety was more important than speaking up ... I beg to differ that I did the only thing I could do ... because I could have and should have done so much more.

I'm sure you're wondering what in the world my opening story about my little family's game of "I've Never" has to do with my subject matter for the evening, so here's why I chose that particular story. There are a ton of things I've never done, and to list them all would take a gazillion posts but there's one certain thing I've never done that ranks way up on the list ... I've never been a fighter. I've never thrown a punch at another human being (though I did wallop my Bozo the Clown punching bag pretty good when I was a little kid). No matter how angry I've been or how frustrated I was, I've never punched anyone out of anger. I've never been a fighter, especially when it comes to fighting for myself. But as I've gotten older, I've come to realize that there are some things ... certain people ... in my life I need to fight for ...  ... like Meghann, Barrett, Brad, Shelby, Matt and Becca ... like Coraline and Amelie ... like my faith in God ... like friendship ... like my canine buddies Julie and Ollie ... like me being myself ... like you being yourself ... like love ... like peace ... like freedom ... like happiness ... like loyalty ... like compassion ... like a whole, whole, whole lot more other things as well. I don't have to punch anyone to fight for those wonderful things ... I have to fight for those things ... for those people ... with my heart.

I've never been a fighter ... but I have had a period or two in my day.