Believe it or not, you can find conservatism in some pretty strange places. I read Dustin Gilbert’s original letter to the editor very closely.
When I introduced myself in this column, I tried to describe some of the many facets that make up who I am.
A mother and English major, gay and very close to being 45, deep within me beats the very conservative heart of a woman whose oldest brother was a police officer who was shot and later died of his injuries.
While I am sure Dustin and I could find much to disagree about, we do not disagree about wholeheartedly supporting the university’s cancellation of Tom Manning’s art show.
I was very upset when I learned the story of how Tom Manning had learned to paint in prison, after killing the state trooper.
My brother loved horses, he never had the luxury of learning how to paint, and he stayed busy trying to keep his section of New York City safe.
My brother was shot in pursuit of a drug dealer.
He died before the advent of bullet proof vests and other equipment that thankfully keep law enforcement officers more safe today.
I will never forget that day. I was home with my parents, my mother walked into the room with a gaping mouth and handed the phone to my father.
It was one of the first times, I ever saw my father cry.
The rest of the day remains a blur; they were whisked to the hospital by police car while I remained at home, too young to be allowed to go into the hospital.
I saw my brother’s face on the news, I thought of my nieces – his children — and I thought of what it would be like when he came home.
I planned his arrival. I was the youngest of my family, and he was the oldest. He was someone I looked up to. He never came home.
I do not see how Mr. Manning and his supporters can claim him to be a political prisoner. Murder is never just.
I am gay. I do not hide that, and yet it can be said that my community is treated unjustly every day.
I love my partner, and have for almost 20 years now. This society will let us (with some wrangling) buy property together; we can raise children together, but they will not let us publicly validate our relationship.
Do you have any idea how crazy that can make conservative old me?
Being gay is as much a part of my being as my green eyes are.
But our society will not yield.
More and more of my tax dollars go to fund a government that wastes my money on things like the “Defense of Marriage Act.”
While it is maddening, it does not give me the right to kill any one.
When struggling against injustice, we need to be careful not to assume the tactics and ways of our oppressors. While struggling against injustice, we need to do it in a just manner, else we become oppressors ourselves.
I will defend with my last breath anyone’s right to speak out against what they see as injustice.
Universities are places of learning, not self-contained biospheres that grow only left-leaning, allegedly forward-leaning leaders of tomorrow.
Diversity matters. My brother mattered. Diversity of opinion matters. My voice matters.
My tuition dollars fund this university, as do my tax dollars; had the university not pulled the show, I would have transferred.
I am part of this community and my voice matters as much as my money does.
My brother was not an oppressive person, he was sworn to uphold the laws and values that we all share in this life.
My brother was not a social cause; he was simply that, my brother Edward.
My voice, and the voice of my family, is the only voice he has left.