The Separation of Church and State Was Not For White Men and Their Egos | A Second Letter to My Grandpa

So, that last piece was shocking. Heavy. Terrifying.

Gut-wrenching. Painful.

Too personal to have been shared online… but I did, and I hope you can understand why.

This conversation is a vital contribution to the changes yet to unfold in the United States and the world at large. Let’s talk about it.

For those wondering, naturally, my family isn’t happy that I spoke openly about the political and religious beliefs we carry behind the scenes. That’s socially inappropriate, y’know? It’s almost as bad as talking about your income publicly.

The audacity!

But… let’s speak plainly. Can we?

Part Two | A letter to my Grandpa:

You know the rules about the separation of politics and religion — and politics and financial status being secret — socially unacceptable to share?

Yeah, let us first acknowledge that these “rules” were put in place to keep small, powerless people small and powerless. Bosses don’t want employees talking about their income, because then they might receive demands for raises from those they’ve been paying less. Discrimination could become more obvious. Cutting corners with the less dominating and demanding employees is a lot easier when salaries aren’t out in the open.

The separation of church and state wasn’t proposed to protect white Christians from feeling judged for discrepancies between their faith and their votes…

The intention behind this separation was actually to prevent the “majority” (ie: straight, white, Christian men) in power from discriminating against or oppressing the civil rights of people who are different from them when it came to career and basic human rights. To protect Jews and Muslims and people of color and every “other” that didn’t fit the CIS white Christian male label. It should serve to help protect all women and non-binary peoples’ rights when it comes to decisions about their bodies and health.

It was to protect human rights, not Christian’s egos.

If you look through the teachings of the Bible, Jesus was a very political figure.

He may not have picked sides, per se, or run for office, but he was aware of and spoke to politics. He was a rebel in the eyes of the state — but his fight was one for love, always. As is ours, is it not?

So, this is where my confusion comes in — because that separation of church and state was never meant to protect the ego… it was not to make it less guilt-triggering to vote selfishly or carelessly or to numb your deepest values. White people have been hiding behind this veil of privacy, wanting to be perceived as “nice,” while voting for aggression and oppression when they think nobody is looking. We’re hiding behind herd mentality… and so much of the violence in the world starts at home.

So many of the great leaders, humanitarians, and compassionate people of the world knew this. Mother Theresa explained often that the way she was able to do her work was by focusing with the one in front of her, and she advised laypeople to do the same. I’m not bringing any of this up to point blame or trigger shame, but instead to encourage reason and intentional decision making — whether you agree with me or not.

Mother Theresa says to start with those right in front of you, if you want to see a change in the world. I want to see people wake up to the fact that we are all connected. The people right in front of us are where we start. That’s family. Friends. Your immediate circle… Because our ripple is happening, simply by us existing.

Nobody gets to turn it off and choose to not have an impact. Silence is a vote, too.

Simply by being, you are impacting this world. So… it’s really important to take that seriously. It’s important to know that what you say or don’t say makes an impact. If you make it comfortable for the people around you to perpetuate racist, sexist, subtly (or not so subtly) violent ideals… that reinforces those beliefs in their minds… and it allows them to feel more comfortable walking deeper into them, expressing them more openly, and as that ripple happens among a couple dozen people, they begin to confirm themselves. Silence is the active decision to not stop the ripple of violence. It’s giving up your power to redirect, to inject love back into a situation long before it escalates.

As humans, we all want to belong.

We pay attention to those around us. Seeing other people doing the same thing as us is affirming, it gives us a sense of security. It allows us to convince ourselves that we’re “doing it right.” Whatever “it” may be.

This little thing… allowing people to feel like their racism, their “joking” refusal to acknowledge transgender people as human beings, their harassment of women… is in any way acceptable behavior… that’s what leads to massive scale racism… to rape culture… and widespread violence.

It ripples and gets out of hand faster than you might think.

Every voice matters, and silence is not opting out. It speaks volumes, too.

When I wrote about the hurt and fear and betrayal and grief that I felt knowing my greatest hero voted for an absolute monster… and connected the dots… I didn’t do it to breed shame or fuel hatred. It wasn’t a divide. It wasn’t us vs them.

It was a plea. A cry for reason, for human conversation.

It was a lighthouse, I hope. Because the point was not that Trump supporters should feel ashamed of themselves; the point was that our decisions have an impact — ALL of them — and we are personally responsible for our impact. And that it is ALL connected. There is no separation of church and state, there is no compartment in your heart between your faith and your politics.

There is no compartment in your soul between your faith and your politics.

You have this one life. You are one whole human being, and we are all whole human beings living in this one whole world. These compartments are just illusions the system had to feed us in order to keep us in line — and they’re making us all sick.

They create trenches between who we are at our core… and the way we behave from day-to-day.

There’s a gap… and that gap fuels depressions and anxious spirals because while we are a whole human, we’re trying to pull parts of ourselves in different directions and never allow them to cross. I’ve seen this in the monsters who hurt me as a child, in the men who hurt me two years ago, and in myself through the healing. Now, I see it in this country so glaringly obvious that I can’t unsee it. I see it in my family.

What I know is that, in order to live this way, you have to lie.

You have to lie constantly, to yourself. You have to break your own heart, clinging to guns and speaking of compassion and the importance of “turning the other cheek” in the same instance. These lies are costing family ties to break, legacies to be gilded and unattainable rather than grounded in growth and imperfection, a source of inspiration and learning that will carry future generations. No longer tangible, no longer relevant, children are lost in this big world. Those who taught us our deepest values have failed to show us how to live them… and that’s not for lack of trying, we know. We love you, we see you. And… we’re also starting to understand the problem, and we’re showing you.

Because we see with different eyes, and you taught us that we should respect our elders, but also allow our hearts to lead us forward. You know that life is about learning, all the way to the end. This is one of those times where the ones you are learning from are the young. And there’s no shame in that.

How many revolutionary leaders and healers in history said that children are the best teachers?

You taught me to stand strong on my own two feet. You encouraged me to shine brightly, to use my voice. To speak the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. I’m sorry that it hurts, but I love you always.

I hope that we can fix these tears in the fabric of our family and our country together. I believe we can do better, together.

I’ve chosen a life deeply dedicated to truth, justice, and love.

It’s meant sacrifice, in a lot of ways. It’s meant being humble, messing up a lot, trying things before I’m ready, and getting painfully visible and vulnerable. It’s meant learning the real impact of the individual… and seeing things I can’t unsee.

This pursuit of truth, justice, and love has required me to do some scary things — things that a lot of people won’t understand. But I hope that you are not a part of the sacrifice I have to make in order to live my truth and purpose. I was crushed to be faced so directly with our opposing political views… and it’s not something negotiable to me, because racism and sexism are not points for negotiation.

But one vote doesn’t negate all of the good and beautiful and kind memories we have. It doesn’t make you a horrible person in my eyes. I wrote that letter to you, knowing that you and I are just one of millions of polarized generations grieving the betrayals they are feeling. It was not just you and me, and it still isn’t. This system is still built for the few, the powerful straight white men in particular, and it’s still designed to keep the poor poor, the queer quiet, the Black poorer, and the Muslim out. It’s a system designed to destroy anything that doesn’t fit neatly into a racist patriarchy with a white man on top… and we both have good reason and strong beliefs that lead us to want to be a part of that change in the world. Making a mistake doesn’t make someone a bad person… the only damning mistake is refusing to make amends or choose differently when new information comes along; allowing pride or shame to be stronger than the pull of our hearts for what we know to be true.

We can be a part of the change, together. But first, we have to be honest with ourselves and each other.

We have to be able to wash away the compartment walls that never really existed and see ourselves as whole, once again. In full accountability with our hearts and our higher powers, we can make whole decisions.

We can stop the division that drags us into the pits of despair, and in doing so, become more fully alive.

And I’d really love that, because I’ve seen you drowning for years and I miss you. People tell me you are fragile, that I shouldn’t dare speak to you this way… but you’re not fragile. You’re not weak. You’re incredibly strong and fierce and powerful, when you want to be. I want to see that spark again. This life is still yours to live; there’s a reason it hasn’t let you go yet!

Integrity brings us back from the depths… it gives us back our fire and strength. From there, our intentions ripple. Every “just for today” takes on a new meaning, a new power, and some day just maybe we’ll both wake up and feel at peace in our own hearts.

This was about so much more than just us.

I know it hurt. You might not agree with me. You have every right to be angry.

And… this is my truth. I’m choosing it, always.

I hope you can forgive me for that, and love me through it all. I hope that I can have both you and my truth, and that I can stop grieving for a grandpa who hasn’t left this world yet, because you deserve to live fully in this one and only life you get. I’m not ready to say goodbye yet, and I don’t think you are either. Not really. Please come back.

In love, truth, and hope,

Your granddaughter who hopes you can see her, even through the waves.