Published in the Martinsburg Journal, October 8, 2016

(My apologies for paraphrasing Martin Neimoller, the German pastor credited for the poem that repeats, “I did not speak out because I was not one of them.” In the last line he says, “Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.” I modified his words to fit many of us today, quoting my hypothetical alter-ego as the author of these words.)

I was outraged at our 2004 invasion of Iraq and went to a protest downtown, but the plaza was full of dancing, chanting tie-dyed barefoot hippies banging on drums in a circle, so I left because I didn’t fit in with them. 

I support a woman’s right to an abortion as defined by the 1973 US Supreme Court Case Roe vs. Wade; but when I went to a pro-choice demonstration, women were carrying big cardboard scissors suggesting that men get vasectomies. I didn’t want to be accused of being a male-bashing Feminazi, so I walked away. 

Because I think we need a government-sponsored medical insurance system, I joined a lobbying group. But when they endorsed “Medicare for All,” I snuck out the back door because I didn’t want to be the least liberal person in a roomful of liberals.

When it was proposed to allow same-sex couples to marry, I supported the legislation, but when I went to a meeting for it, there were a lot of homosexuals there. Since they didn’t make me feel as if they like me, I left.

I think taxes should be higher for those who earn millions of dollars per year; but I didn’t donate to a candidate I respected because her term “Wealth Tax” turned me off.

I believe that the Earth should be protected, rather than used as a source of capital for corporations that contaminate the environment. At an anti-pollution rally I went to, some of the people arrived in cars with worse gas mileage than mine does. That seemed hypocritical, so I drove away.

I believe what climate experts tell us about global warming, but I do not want a teenager from Sweden speaking on my behalf, so I didn’t call my Congressman to demand he vote for alternative energy legislation.

I believe in the strict interpretation of separation of church and state, but when I found myself surrounded by atheists and Wiccans picketing the Senate, I did not want to be seen with them, and I went home.

I am disgusted by the racism in this country and am repulsed by videos of African Americans being disrespected and brutalized by both police and private citizens. But I didn’t like the title of the organization “Black Lives Matter,” so I didn’t go to any of their events. When a few people started looting and shooting, my MAGA neighbor used it as a justification to belittle America’s history of discrimination.  I pretended I had to answer my phone rather than to argue with her.

In the meantime, our new president did everything I disagreed with. He lowered taxes for the rich; threw out protections for the environment; laughed at climate change and called a pandemic a hoax; repealed a law that helps people buy health insurance; spread putrid lies while accusing newspapers of creating “fake news;” supported a ban on abortion and punishment for women who seek one; invented a national emergency to build a concrete wall; insulted and alienated our allies; threatened to “bomb the hell out of Iran,” bombed the hell out of Afghanistan; and started a trade war. 

I wanted to stand up to this political force, but folks like me had kept silent because we didn’t like the looks, actions, and words of people we actually agreed with. We thought we had the luxury of disagreeing with our own allies: instead, we had abandoned them. Those who had marched, rallied, protested, picketed, demonstrated and debated, were accused of being radicals, socialists, haters, enemies, elites, traitors, far-left agitators and anti-American.  The president came after them with tear gas, soldiers, and a Bible, and then promised to come after them again with “vicious dogs and ominous weapons.” He told the state governors that to handle protesters, “put them in jail for 10 years.” 

But now we wanted to join those people. We searched for them in the plazas, on the streets, at the Capitol building and Senator’s offices, and even in the churches. But everywhere was empty and silent.

When we finally came to speak for them, there was no one left to hear us.