Hey Republicans: Stop Hiding Behind Your Children!
An open letter to the grand old party of hypocrisy and B.S.
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You people are all bluster and bravado these days, but as always, it’s only an act. You love to talk tough like your patron saint John Wayne, like America today is still the Wild Wild West and you’re riding in on white horses to save it and make it great again. In reality, though, you’re just a bunch of cowards.
You’re afraid of immigrants (specifically, brown-skinned ones) because they’ll rape your children and get them hooked on drugs. You’re afraid of Black people because they’ll make your children feel guilty. You’re afraid of books and cartoons because they’ll corrupt your children. You’re afraid of trans student athletes (particularly the girls) because they’ll embarrass your children on the playing field. You’re afraid of gay people because they’ll groom your children. Now you’re even afraid of drag queens. Drag queens! When is the last time you saw a drag queen storming into a Walmart fondling a AR-15–style rifle and out for blood?
You’re terrified of pretty much everything, like the “snowflakes” you are, but you’d never admit it. Instead, you’ll hide behind your kids. Everything you do (including rescinding a woman’s right to choose), as you’ll scream to whomever will listen, you’re doing for the babies.
These are the same babies who, like Republican South Dakota governor Kristi Noem’s granddaughter Addie, get guns and ponies named Sparkles before their second birthday. These are the same children who risk their lives every time they step onto an elementary school campus — not because a drag queen or the boogeyman is coming to snatch (and groom) them. They’re risking their lives because a maniac armed with a deadly weapon, the same type of deadly weapon you want your toddlers to have access to before they turn 2, might enter any classroom and start shooting.
Fact check: If something life-altering is going to happen to a child in a public space in the middle of the day, it won’t be because of a man in drag telling a dirty joke. The mall, once a hallowed haven where ’80s teens like me used to flock to on weekends to spend their spare change or enjoy the fresh sounds of pop queens like Tiffany and Debbie Gibson appearing live, have…
