A prayer for bigots

My prayer for you is that you may never be part of a minority that is misrepresented and misunderstood. May you always be part of the majority so you will be spared the suffering of those who are different in race, faith, or orientation.

May there never be a time when you or your family are treated differently because of biases not related to your true worth and right. May you remain ignorant of the world’s inequalities, so you can continue to assume that just because you aren’t being oppressed, those who are suffering must either be imagining it or deserve it because of how they look and act. 

May you never be judged unfairly and be in danger of losing your livelihood and your family’s love.

I hope you’ll never live in a country whose President says that your family is unnatural and that you would be a bad influence on your own child. I hope you never wonder why people like you who pay the same taxes and obtain the same education or occupation cannot live freely, protect their families by law, or tell others the specifics of their lives.

May you continue to assume that just because some out celebrities are not harmed in plain view, they must be accepted by the general public, even though you know nothing about their personal struggles or what goes on in their homes. May you continue to naively apply this version of acceptance to every single gay man or lesbian and claim that they must be exaggerating when they mention their grievances because some lesbian singer or gay comedian is able to go on stage and appear to have a normal life.

I hope you will always live in a country whose predominant religion doesn’t teach its followers to call you a sinner if you don’t change your ways. I hope you never worship a God who makes you feel that He hates the person you have become. May you never grow up denying every feeling that comes from your heart. May you be able to visit your place of worship without fear that you will be rejected, judged, or have to listen to teachings that call your life wrong. I hope that nobody ever uses the name of their God to let you know that the world’s salvation depends on whether you follow a loosely interpreted book or your evil desires.

I pray you won’t receive calls that a dear friend or relative has been beaten or killed because he was harassed for walking around. I hope that you won’t ever learn that your son has succumbed to a disease he didn’t even know he could catch. I hope your child will never be afraid to ask you about safe sex so he can protect himself or herself instead of assume that the secrecy that surrounds it is meant to keep them from harm.

I pray you’ll never have a gay son, not because it’s a curse to have one, but because you do not deserve the gift of a fabulous child. You do not deserve the joy that unique and colorful child will bring. I pray that boy won’t be born to you because I fear for his life and dignity being the child of someone who already hates him before he even does wrong.  May you not have a child where you would make it a mission to correct his every action, stifle his talents, and silence his voice – all under the guise of good parenting.

I pray that you will only have the most conventional children, the most straight-laced, gender-conforming boys and girls, because God only knows what you would do if any of them even strayed from your idea of right and wrong.  

I hope you’ll never have a lesbian daughter, not because it’s difficult to have one, but because I fear for this girl who will be taught that who she is could send her to hell. I pray you’ll never have a child whose deepest nature you’ll want to change, a child you’ll force to date men and to reject their infatuations because of your sexualized notions she doesn’t even know about when she has her first crush. I hope that you will only have children you won’t drive out of your home, or threaten with physical harm, or whose partners you’ll reject or chase out of your daughter’s life.

I pray that you’ll never be bullied, or have a child who comes home weary from being taunted all day. I hope you will never have to watch your back because you know some people want to hurt you just because of how you walk or talk, or because you happen to be holding the hand of someone you love.

I hope someone never tells you that being assaulted and murdered should just be accepted as a reality because of cultural norms. I hope you’re never told that if that you don’t like the violence and discrimination that surrounds you, you should just leave the country where you were born. I pray you’ll never have a daughter who is raped because her attackers believe what you believe – that she should only be with a man. Most of all, I pray you will not have a son who will be killed just because someone felt his nature made him less of a man.

My prayer for you is that you continue to enjoy the privilege that blinds and numbs you from what everyone else is going through. I pray that you will be so removed from suffering that when you hear about other people’s struggles, you’ll have the audacity to call it noise and insist that these sentiments are being shoved down your throat. I hope you and your loved ones always stay safe and away from harm, even it means you’ll continue to believe you’re the only one who deserves to live a safe and honorable life. 

May you never have to learn from the suffering of a loved one that no one is immune to oppression, and that someone is bound to hurt you for your identity, convictions, and appearance one day. May you not face the reality that if you forsake those who are different from you, it gives others the license to treat you similarly when it’s your turn. I fervently pray that you’ll never have to learn the lessons minorities are taught daily in hateful, vicious, and unforgiving ways. 

Amen. 

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

– Pastor Martin Niemöller, during the holocaust – Rappler.com 

Shakira Andrea Sison is a Palanca Award-winning essayist. She currently works in finance and spends her non-working hours writing prayers in subway trains. She is a veterinarian by education and was managing a retail corporation in Manila before relocating to New York in 2002. Her column appears on Thursdays. Follow her on Twitter: @shakirasison and on Facebook.com/sisonshakira.