I was just about to buy this totally bitchin' hate is not a family value license plate frame, but stopped. It's my belief that trying to lead people into your way of thinking through words and catchy slogans doesn't really do anything, we must lead by example, be as upstanding and loving as possible and then come out with the "Oh, and this is how I feel about *this* issue" only after earning their respect.
By marking my car, I'm not going to change anyone's mind. No one is going to see it and think, "You know? She's right!" No... they'll either agree with me to start with, or just be really pissed off.
So I didn't get the license plate frame. Stay quiet, I decided.
Today I went to Target. I was paying for my stuff, and the cashier guy suddenly says, "You'd wear a Washburn University t-shirt around this town?!" (For those of you who don't know, Washburn is this college in Topeka that had a statue on campus that pissed of some religious types, so they filed a lawsuit, then private schools around Kansas started refusing to let Washburn recruiters visit their high schools, then Wichita public schools shut out the recruiters as well. The board voted to let them back in, but it stirred up a whole bunch of press. Washburn refused to remove the statue based on freedom of speach, the religious types refused Washburn because they felt the statue was inappropriate and offensive.)
So after trying to fly under the radar and not let strangers know about my political beliefs, I'd gone out in public in my Washburn t-shirt. I hadn't even thought about it. It was like my subconsious was telling the relgious right to stick it.
The cashier was happy though. We looked at each other and there was this sudden understanding that we were fighting a similar fight. He said something else about how it was horrible that people couldn't think of anything else to do than try to censor artwork. He seemed gay. The homosexuals in Wichita stick closely to their own circles... events aren't publicized, you don't see them in pairs. You see them in groups, if anything. The only place I see them is in church, because, well, my church is like that. So it'd make sense that this cashier was happy to see me in my t-shirt, we had a common enemy, and he could have gone the whole day without seeing anyone who he knew was on his side. All because I wore my beliefs right out on me.
It's got me thinking.