Scratch the surface

        Hello, lovelies.

          From birth to about the age of eleven, kids are usually all the same. Same hair styles, same school uniform, same favourite TV shows and the same set of values that they all derive from attending the same schools in the same communities. But from then onwards, kids start to develop their own opinions. Form their own sense of values and beliefs. But fundamentally they are all the same. Aren’t they? Are we all born with the basic understanding that we are all part of the same human race? Or is that all an unrealistic dream that the liberals and the woke are trying to push? Will there ever be a time that we can all stand together as one nation. Or, if we just scratch the surface, we reveal the hatred underneath. 

      Growing up I always thought that everyone I met was just like me. And to a certain degree they were. At about eleven years old, my friends and I all loved running home after school to watch the latest, cutting edge, episodes of Scooby Doo. We all loved riding our bikes. And we all knew that the moment the streetlamps came on, it was a signal for us all to go home. We mostly liked the same music, and definitely liked the same fashion, as awful as it was. So by and large we could all be counted on having the same set of values. That was until about the age of thirteen. I remember sitting in class having a discussion on politics. Not unusual for my school, but I can clearly remember being shocked that about half of my fellow school mates openly declaring that they would identify as Tory’s. My class mates. My friends. People I would ride to the park with and sit under the slide, while talking about boys and sweets. My friends had political beliefs that were polar opposite of my own. And it didn’t stop there. As the years flew by, I found that more and more of my opinions and deeply held beliefs were not shared by my friends, in fact they were actually the opposite to theirs. But it wasn’t a bad thing, was it? Okay, so I found myself in more than a few heated arguments about life, love and laundry. But isn’t that’s just part of mixing with others. I learnt to pick my conversations more carefully. Everyone is welcome to their own view’s; I just didn’t need to be part of it. As long as they weren’t hurting anyone, it was fine with me. 

       Was I right? Was it really the best route to go down? To not to question other’s ideas in case I said the wrong thing and offended someone? I mean, what if my thoughts on a subject weren’t right? What if I was wrong but would jump down people’s throats anyway. Other’s do it, so why shouldn’t I? I could be an armchair expert, spouting hate and prejudice whenever I saw it in my opinion. Dismissing any claim that I might be wrong. Knowing that my beliefs were better thought out than others. That I was just better, and so my thoughts should be told under the banner of, ‘I’m only telling it as I see it!’

        And that was the situation I found myself in last week. I wrote a very small piece on my own little blog about the rights of trans people. That’s all. And in less than 24 hours I was bombarded by hatred and threats. Threats to my very life. Ten, fifteen, twenty vile comments every hour. It went on for days. Now, I’m not one for being too affected by keyboard warriors, but it was relentless. The hatred that showed its ugly face was astounding. People who would normally be nice and polite to their neighbours and friends, under the surface held nasty, mean and hate filled beliefs that wouldn’t be out of place in a totalitarian dictatorship. These trolls not only spouted hatred for those that are different from them, some even thought that they shouldn’t be tolerated and accepted. Let that sink in for a moment. Anyone who is different from the norm had no place in ‘their’ society. That being different meant that you are wrong, and that wrong should be removed by whatever means necessary. I was flabbergasted. 

       How can these beliefs still be around and growing strong? We as a species are evolving, ever growing and changing. And yet, there is a large section of society that believes that some of their fellow humans do not deserve to be part of life. What could I do? Little me on this little part of the internet? People, some who actually knew me, began to question my motives for writing a blog full of prejudices? Wait, what? How can writing about trans rights put me in the firing line of other peoples fears and projections? How was I being prejudice? And the comments, instead of questioning, were full of nonsense and a lack of any understanding. And that’s it. So is there anything I can do? How can my very small voice on my very small blog make a difference? 

       But there is so much we can do. My bestie has introduced me to the legendary The Jeffrey Marsh, and she has taught me so much. There is nothing to fear about the trans community. Nothing at all. If I am unsure of which pronouns to use, then firstly you can introduce yourself and say, for example, my name is Emma and I use she/her pronouns. Its that easy. And, if all else fails, do what I do and call everyone Lovely. Works every time. But the fear of interacting, fear of being seen as odd for speaking out, and one of ‘them’ for refusing to hate for the sake of it will not make the world a better place. How about trying to take some of the weight off trans people’s shoulders. To question and educate the hatred and fear. But most of all, to spread the word that being different from the norm is a good thing. No. It’s a very good thing.