Over my dead body.

I slept again.  In this case, more was better.  When I manage to calm my body and mind, I listen intensely.  I’m not good at doing this (lucid dreaming), so it’s wonderful when it happens.  I heard a young girl crying.  I needed to comfort and protect her from whatever was making her weep.  I listened harder.  I somehow recognized her.  Where have our paths crossed?  I begged her to tell me what’s upsetting her.  She answered me with only her eyes.  Now I’m crying, too.

I understand what my dream was telling me this time.  If Drumpf creates a list of Muslims, my name will be first.  I’m American. Whatever evil plans exist for the most vulnerable among us, they begin with me first.  Not a hair on the head of a single American will be harmed before that injury lands on me first.  I demand it.

I’ll find a loving home for Amelia Bedelia.  I have someone in mind.  It won’t be the first time I’ve shored up my finances and created a will.  Last time, I was going through a POM board (preparation for overseas movement) for Desert Storm at age 17, and it never crossed my mind that I should let my Mom know it was coming before the Red Cross sent it to her.  That led to a loud phone call after a stressful wait outside my Commander’s office.  Good times.

I’ve been to a concentration camp (Memorial) before when stationed in Germany.  Never again is not a slogan, it’s a commitment.  It means I will die before I let anyone hurt my people, regardless of who is giving what orders.  My people are Caucasian, African American, Muslim, Christian, Jewish,  and Catholic.  Mormon, Amish, disabled, mentally ill, poor, middle class, and wealthy.  They’re heterosexual,  LBGTQIA (lesbian, bisexual, gay, transgender, queer, intersexual, asexual), Asian American, and Native American.  Veterans, homeless, malnourished, sickly, retired, underage, and every other group who make our melting pot glorious. My people are Americans.  Not a hair.  I’ll be informing my federal representatives so they can alert me of where I need to report and when should this madness continue.

I’m going because I’m able, and many others who are just as disgusted by Drumpf’s plans have disabilities that won’t allow them to participate physically.  Since I began this blog, I’ve befriended several disabled people on Twitter.  I’ve learned so much about ableism and how to be respectful to other people.  It’s simple.  When in doubt, ask.  I’ve discovered most people will kindly answer when sincerely asked.  Also, individuals who’ve had to fight just to exist in our world, and somehow managed to pull it off are important to befriend.  They have wisdom we all need to hear.

If someone asks you to call them an accurate title, thank them for sharing that with you, and use it.  It’s the right thing to do.  Don’t think about reasons why you can’t treat them with basic respect, unless you’ve decided to relinquish your right to be respected.  Personally, I believe we should all hold tight to our self-respect.  That means respecting others.  It’s the only logical way to behave on this planet.  There are billions of people, and for us to live peacefully together, we have to play by the rules we were all taught as toddlers.

Share with those around you.  Don’t take more than your share.  People are not for hurting.  Don’t break things that are alive.  Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you.  Don’t talk with your mouth full.  Don’t be a tattle-tale.  If you can’t play nicely together, you can’t play at all. Don’t throw rocks.  Always tell the truth.  Use your inside voice.

Our parents knew what they were doing.  I’ll be fighting for the precious little American girl who’s frightened and doesn’t understand why half her country hates her.  I will make America safe for her to grow up in, or I’ll die fucking hard.