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Day 494 – Letter to the NRA: It’s Time To End This Relationship.

Day 494 – Letter to the NRA: It’s Time To End This Relationship.

Dear NRA,

I am writing to request cancellation of my NRA life membership (No. 000000000). I received the life membership as a gift from my grandfather when I was 16 years old. At the time I was the captain of my high school rifle team, and I went on to serve in the Marine Corps. While I enjoy shooting for sport and support responsible gun ownership, I can no longer be associated with an organization that so fervently opposes reasonable and responsible gun legislation.

I am now a mother of two, and I can’t send my children to school in good conscience knowing I am a member of the organization that opposes reasonable and responsible legislation that could protect them. Although I have never personally given the NRA any money, I simply can’t have my name on the books.

I’m certain my grandfather would agree that gun ownership should be regulated within reason, and that he’d understand my decision, which is non-negotiable.

Sincerely,

Letters2Trump

Day 488 – Problem Arises. Consider Problem. Discuss With People Who Might Know More Than You. Take Action. Gun Control Now, Mr. President.

Day 488 – Problem Arises. Consider Problem. Discuss With People Who Might Know More Than You. Take Action. Gun Control Now, Mr. President.

Image by Lord Jim

Mr. President,

If a stomach bug is going around, I wash my hands a lot.

If my young children are fussy or volatile, I get them a snack or a nap.

When my legs hurt from too much sitting at work, I get up and walk for a bit.

If our household budget dips, we curtail our entertainment spending.

When there was an intersection with a lot of accidents, I used a different route until our town put in a roundabout.

When my kids push each other, I intervene, and we talk about better ways to resolve conflicts.

If a friend is in trouble, I offer a listening ear and do whatever I can.

When my spouse has a bad day, I listen and offer support.

When my kids keep fighting over the same toy, I take the toy away.

At times, my basketball shot falls apart completely, so I shoot until I get back in my groove.

One time I broke a bone. I went to the doctor.

When my kids snuck candy and cookies, we got rid of the candy and cookies.

When I’m thirsty, I get a drink of water.

On occasion, I get a headache, so I take an analgesic.

If it rains, I wear a raincoat or grab the umbrella.

If I see a fight break out, I help break it up.

When I get a sports injury, I rest, stretch, and maybe even see a physical therapist.

When my car breaks down, I take it to the garage.

When I felt sick every time I ate Frosted Mini-Wheats, I stopped eating Frosted Mini-Wheats. (I’m sorry Frosted Mini-Wheats. The problem in our relationship is not you, it’s me.)

When our roof leaked, I got it fixed.

One time a job gave me an ulcer, so I got a new job.

When I don’t like a song or TV show, I turn it off.

Occasionally I make the same mistakes over and over again, so I make a plan to change my behavior pattern. (How you been, cheese puffs?)

When I got a parking ticket, I paid it.

When I ate the last apple and then found out my wife was saving it, I apologized and bought more apples.

When the dog kept eating the cat litter, we put the cat litter where the dog couldn’t get to it.

One time I failed a quiz in high school, so I studied harder and raised my grade.

When I don’t understand a word, I look it up in the dictionary. (An analgesic is a painkiller, by the way.)

So, here’s the deal. In all of those situations, I thought. In some of them, I prayed. With each and every one of those problems, big or small, I also acted on the problem.

Guns get shot. Gun control now.

Sincerely,

Letters2Trump

 

 

Day 486 – Keep Your Prayers and Your Opportunistic Sympathy, Mr. President. Their Names are Glenda Perkins, Cynthia Tisdale, Kimberly Vaughan, Shana Fisher, Angelique Ramirez, Christian Riley Garcia, Jared Black, Sabika Sheikh, Christopher Jake Stone, and Aaron Kyle McLeod.

Day 486 – Keep Your Prayers and Your Opportunistic Sympathy, Mr. President. Their Names are Glenda Perkins, Cynthia Tisdale, Kimberly Vaughan, Shana Fisher, Angelique Ramirez, Christian Riley Garcia, Jared Black, Sabika Sheikh, Christopher Jake Stone, and Aaron Kyle McLeod.

Image from ABCNews

Mr. President,

I’d like to introduce you to Paige Curry, a student at Santa Fe High School and, thus, a survivor of one of our latest school shootings.  On May 18, a young man, armed with a shotgun and a .38 revolver, walked into the high school and shot and killed 10 students and faculty members.  You know what she said afterward?

She said that she had come to expect such a thing.

She said that she wasn’t surprised that it happened at her school.

She said, and you damn well better hear this, “It’s been happening everywhere… I’ve always kind of felt like eventually it was going to happen here, too.”

Let that sink in for a second, Mr. Trump.  She.  Was.  Not.  Surprised.

She does not live in a warzone, Mr. Trump.  She is not part of a nation undergoing radical revolutionary strife.  She lives in your country, the one you swore to serve.  She’s one of the citizens you promised to protect and defend, just like the others shot and killed in her school.

You failed her, Mr. Trump, just like you failed them.

No, it’s not your fault that a young man wanted to hurt his classmates.  It’s not your fault that something violent happened.

But you failed her, like you failed every one of those people killed, nonetheless.  You failed their families, left grieving that their loved ones are gone forever.  And you’re continuing to fail all of our children and all of their families, doing nothing but issue occasional empty promises and reassurances of solidarity.

After another young man shot up a high school, killing 17 more citizens you had sworn to protect and defend, you claimed that it wouldn’t happen again.  Not on your watch, you said.  You were going to act, you said.  You were going to insist on change.

Hell, you even went so far as to mock Republican lawmakers that you suspected might be afraid of the NRA, which, if nothing else, was a refreshing change from the usual targets of your childish taunting.

You promised, you pledged, you mocked.

And then you did nothing.

Worse than nothing, actually.  Just weeks later, you assured the NRA that their precious guns were safe, that they would “never be under siege as long as [you were] president.”  That is, I guess, the kind of reassurance that 30 million dollars of NRA money can buy.

We know you’re terminally dishonest, venal, corrupt, and desperate for attention — that you’ll say, at any moment, whatever you think will win you praise and soothe your fragile ego — and, honestly, most of that is going to be forgotten by history.  You’re fortunate, in that respect.  Give history long enough and you’ll eventually be remembered mostly as one of our worst presidents, one who used the presidential office to enrich himself and his cronies at the expense of our most vulnerable, at the expense of our environment, and at the expense of the traditions of civil government.  You’ll make your own little Mount Rushmore, along with Millard Fillmore and Andrew Johnson and Richard Nixon.

But you won’t be forgiven for standing idly by while our citizens are killed, for making empty promises while children grow ever more accustomed to attending school amidst fear of violence, and for sanctioning the wholesale slaughter of those very civilians you swore to protect and defend.  That will be your legacy, Mr. Trump.  It will not be forgotten and you will not be forgiven.

Sincerely,

Letters2Trump

Day 434 – A Poem: March for Our Lives, America

Day 434 – A Poem: March for Our Lives, America

Image from Pinterest

March for Our Lives, America

The shame of our country

rides the range of TV channels

across the globe.

The world is watching,

standing in solidarity

with our students.

 

On Pennsylvania Avenue

our footprints scorch the pavement.

We walk with purpose and conviction.

No more will we allow our children

to be gunned down in school

or on the streets where they live.

We shout to the beautiful blue sky

above us on March 24, 2018,

Enough is enough.

 

Our voices will not be silenced.

We speak for the children

who have died from gun violence –

those tiny wide-eyed ones

at Sandy Hook,

those middle graders at

Nickel Mines,

those teenaged ones at Columbine,

Parkland, Virginia Tech.

 

We speak because they cannot,

their voices muted by a bullet

or fifteen or thirty

from an automatic weapon,

an assault rifle, a long gun,

a bump stock.

Where does it stop?

 

People around the world

Berlin, Paris, London, Sydney

joined us there in the sunshine

on Pennsylvania Avenue

singing their hearts,

listening to the voices of brave teens

caught in the crosshairs

of the NRA and politicians.

 

Enough is enough.

 

Our grief turns to activism.

 

We will not stand for arming teachers,

for making schools into fortresses.

We refuse to live in fear.

 

We demand gun laws

with teeth.

We demand courage

with conviction.

We demand heart and soul,

not excuses or empty rhetoric.

 

We will be heard.

We have read the Constitution.

We know what “well-regulated” means.

We know what a militia is.

We know CPR.

 

Enough is enough.

 

We will march until our feet ache,

until you in seats of power – STAND UP,

and take no NRA dollars.

Until you hear us,

until you listen,

until you love children

as much as your guns

and your golf clubs.

Until you give us

the safety and protection

of GUN FREE ZONES

all over this nation,

not just in Congress.

 

Listen to our feet on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Listen to our words.

Be the heroes we need you to be.

Be the change

or be run over by it.

 

Enough is enough.

 

-Gloria Klinger

For Letters2Trump

Day 433 – Letter to Student Activists Fighting For Change: Thanks for Helping My Two Young Daughters Learn What Democracy Looks Like.

Day 433 – Letter to Student Activists Fighting For Change: Thanks for Helping My Two Young Daughters Learn What Democracy Looks Like.

Image from Kelly Bell Photography

Dear student activists,

I had the privilege of joining one of the many March for Our Lives events this past weekend, a march that was organized and led by you.  I brought my children, and while they are too young to organize, they are most decidedly not too young to hold a sign, scream a chant, and feel the emotion of a crowd fighting for change.  As we walked the mile-long route, we heard over and over again:

“Show me what democracy looks like!”

“THIS is what democracy looks like!”

After the march my older daughter asked me what “democracy” means, and we had a discussion about the power of voting and the power of voice, and how in many places individuals do not have those rights.  While she does not quite grasp the ramifications of democracy, she does know that we HATE guns and that it’s time for change.

Why does she know this?

Because of YOU.  Because YOU are making your voices heard.  Because YOU are not letting the bullies and trolls dominate the conversation.  Because YOU know that perseverance wins, and that no one is more motivated that you to see this fight to the end.

Unlike my generation and the generations which have preceded me, your voices are fresh, new, invigorating, un-jaded, pure.  Take that spirit and run with it, and we will be there right alongside.  Do you want to fight for harsher gun restrictions?  Let’s do it.  Do you want to repeal the 2nd amendment?  I’m in. Do you want to run for office?  You have my vote.

Nothing made me happier these last couple of days since the march than when I heard my two daughters, alone in their bedroom at night, saying to one another:

“Show me what democracy looks like!”

“THIS is what democracy looks like!”

That’s power.  And that’s change.

Sincerely,

Letters2Trump

 

Day 432 – Never Mind The Blue Wave, Mr. President. A Blue Tsunami Is Coming Straight For You and Your Republican Sycophants.

Day 432 – Never Mind The Blue Wave, Mr. President. A Blue Tsunami Is Coming Straight For You and Your Republican Sycophants.

Image from WhyWeProtest.Net

Mr. President,

When I sat down to write this letter, I suddenly realized that I hadn’t looked at your Twitter feed in over two months. Amazing, isn’t it? I feel reborn. Consider for a moment that your flash in the pan antics have grown so dull to me that I, a feminist liberal, no longer care about you.

Am I complacent? Absolutely not. But I have finally accepted that your words are “told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, [s]ignifying nothing” (thanks, Shakespeare). No one can do or say anything to “fix” you. Have you felt it yet? The subtle shift? The lessening of interest in your presidency? People no longer care about your golfing trips, or your insensitive words to grieving parents, or even the notes you hold in your hands to remind you what an empathetic person would say. Sure we see and hear you, but look at you as a joke. We’ve come to accept that this is the new norm. I must say that it’s a relief to finally stop fighting the fact that you are this country’s president.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret, one about which not even Fox & Friends will tell you: you’ve already been replaced. That’s right, replaced. It came to me whilst watching the footage of the recent gun control march. Your “I’ll-keep-saying-and-doing-crazy-things-and-people-will-become-acclimated-to-my-insanity” has worked. Unfortunately for you, not in the way you planned.

You see, people are no longer paying attention to you. They’re too busy watching local and state elections and counting one upset after another for the status quo.

Most significantly, children are marching on the streets and standing up to the NRA. They are taking over the airways, the social media platforms, they are talking against you and your cronies and all those immoral people who are destroying their planet, threatening their lives, and ruining their futures. They hate Facebook; they don’t care about Twitter. Those platforms are beneath them, and they’ve moved past them to bigger and better ways to connect. They are committed to change. They are, and will be, voting.

If you have any sense of self-preservation, you and your racist, misogynistic, money-grubbing NRA puppets should quietly move out of the way.

You are no longer relevant.

Sincerely,

Letters2Trump

P.S. I said I stopped fighting my disbelief that you were elected, but I haven’t given up the battle. I vote in every election, but more importantly, I vote with my wallet.

P.P.S. Russia

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