A Time to Speak. A Time to Be Quiet.
"With courage you will dare to take risks, have the strength to be compassionate, and the wisdom to be humble. Courage is the foundation of integrity." (Mark Twain)
Most fingers point to Nero for the Great Fire that destroyed three-quarters of Rome in July 64 AD.
The blaze raged for six days before it was finally brought under control - only to reignite and burn for another three. In the end, much of the city was gone, and countless lives were lost.
Legend has it that Nero watched as Rome burned, playing music- some say the fiddle, although fiddles had yet to be invented. More likely, he played the lyre. Regardless, he appeared unbothered.
When the smoke cleared, Nero pointed his finger at the Christians. They were a thorn in his flesh, a people resisting his authoritarian rule. He needed no proof to believe the worst about them - it was the perfect opportunity to prosecute, persecute, and eliminate them.
He then had Rome rebuilt in his own image, including his Golden House, which only confirmed the suspicions of many: Nero had likely lit the first match.
Which brings me to now.
I made a quiet vow to myself: to use my voice, because I couldn’t use my vote to determine the next four years in this country.
I have always tried to walk with integrity - to say what I mean, and mean what I say. To not only talk the walk, but to walk the talk.
There’s always been a fire in me for the underdog.
That fire cost me my job as a broadcaster on a Christian gospel radio station - because I was too friendly, too kind, and too loving toward people whose skin colour wasn’t like mine.
That’s when I learned a painful truth: some Christians don’t see souls; they only see colour. And some of the most judgmental people I’ve ever met were sitting in pews.
That experience took me out of the Church - and took the Church out of me.
Even as a teenager, I struggled with the doctrine we were fed: that God is jealous and punishing, yet somehow loved His Son so much that He sacrificed Him for our sins.
And even when you say the prayer, convert, and commit your life to Jesus, you’re still told you’re a sinner. Your children - innocent and full of light - are called sinners, too.
I chose, even back then, to believe in a faith unseen, made only of love.
During my five years on radio, I never preached fear - only love. And in the 27 years since I left the Church, I’ve lived a life of deep spirituality.
I’ve only ever been condemned by those who peddle fear. Never by those who walk, talk, and live love.
And now I find myself in a country where many evangelicals have lost their way in ways I could never have imagined.
They support “The Don” - a con man, a convicted felon, a fraudster, a sexual predator.
He’s like a mafia boss now - the godfather of greed and manipulation. He wears his orange mask with pride, while collecting his power and profit.
His underboss never appears in public without eyeliner - and last week, I swear he added mascara. He had no problem showing off his “drag” side once, but now helps his boss prosecute those who do.
There are a few “counselors” - advisors with their own secrets and criminal records. But as long as you look good on TV (especially on Fox News), you’re in.
Then come the Capo - the Republican party. Spineless. Ball-less. Their noses are so brown, they’ll never rid themselves of the stink.
And finally, the foot soldiers: the MAGA crowd.
They stormed the Capitol in an attempted coup.
They failed then, but the chaos they unleashed is far from over. The world is teetering - and we’ve seen this playbook before.
When Hitler made his move, people didn't believe it until it was too late.
This movement - the Christian Nationalists, the white supremacists - is now labeled by fellow Christians as the single biggest threat to America’s religious freedom. And now we know: to democracy as well.
I’ve decided to stop sharing my views—at least publicly.
I can feel it in the air:
People don’t want to hear it.
Some think The Don is Jesus incarnate.
They think he’s a gift from God.
And beyond that - it’s getting dangerous to speak your mind.
I’m not a citizen. I’m vulnerable. I’ve read too many reports of immigrants kidnapped in daylight, thrown into unmarked vehicles. People deported to hellish corners of the world. Detained, disappeared. Even citizens of this country are being arrested.
And while the courts cry out, The Don turns a deaf ear.
I’ve never been afraid to use my voice. But now, my instincts and common sense are louder. And I’m old and wise enough to listen.
Gloria Steinem said,
"However sugarcoated and ambiguous, every form of authoritarianism must start with a belief in some group’s greater right to power - whether that right is justified by sex, race, class, religion, or all four."
Right now, in this moment - it is all four.
And though I’ve felt compelled to speak out, I also realize this:
I am not part of this country. Not yet. And maybe I never will be.
And while I’ve been shouting, others with real power and reach remain silent.
I want people in this country to wake up. To rise. To do something.
I’ve tried. Thousands of others are rising, protesting. It is up to American citizens who are still in their right minds, now.
So here’s what I’ve decided to do:
I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep documenting. I’ll tell the truth as I see it.
And if I’m still alive in four years, I’ll publish it.
"My First Four Years in the White House."
Who knows - maybe it’ll end up on a bestseller shelf somewhere.