Tag Archives: resistance

Dear Representative: Save the Affordable Care Act

Dear Representative Cummings,

I am a legal permanent resident of these United States, currently living in Maryland’s 7th district, represented by your voice in Congress. I am writing to you today to ask you to keep up the fight to preserve the protections contained in the Affordable Care Act, and to work hard to convince your Republican colleagues to reconsider their efforts to repeal the Act. My son’s life may depend on it.

Liam is two and a half years old. He loves to play his ukulele and harmonica, and his favorite planet is Jupiter. He insists on wearing bow ties, he likes to help me make my coffee in the morning, and he tells me every day that he loves me “really much.” He is the greatest joy of my life. Born with a genetic condition called Neurofibromatosis (NF), he has already endured five sedated MRI scans, to watch carefully for growth of the tumors that already threaten his optic nerves and other regions deep in his brain. Every three months, we bring him to the hospital and hold him as they apply the anesthesia mask to his face. He holds his beloved Elmo, and we rock him and sing to him, but he always cries. He cries because he doesn’t understand. We cry because we do.

Despite all of this, he is a thriving and joyful little boy, loving and learning and testing his limits like every other toddler. He sees an ophthalmologist and a neurologist regularly, and he goes to music class on Sundays. He sees a physical therapist and an orthotist for the low muscle tone that come with his condition, and he has soccer once a week.

His extensive medical care is just a part of our life, and we adapt. We are grateful that he hasn’t yet needed any surgeries or serious intervention that would require hospitalization. Other children with NF aren’t so lucky. A day may come when chemotherapy will be necessary to stop Liam’s tumors from taking his vision. Serious and complex surgeries may be needed in the future, to remove painful nerve tumors growing along his spine. And one day, he will grow up and grow out of his dependence on us, leaving him to find coverage for himself. This is why we can’t allow the Affordable Care Act to be repealed.

If lifetime caps on benefits are reinstated, chemotherapy or surgery could have us reaching those caps within a matter of months. If pre-existing conditions clauses are allowed, my son may not be able to find affordable health insurance for himself when he grows up, because of a spontaneous mutation that occurred before he was born. And if anything happens to us to affect our ability to work, we need better options than high-risk exchanges or bankruptcy. Yes, we hope to maintain access to employer-subsidized health insurance, but without protections in place for us and our family, we’re one layoff away from a disaster. That’s a lot of stress to carry, when we already carry so much.

I came to the United States from a country where healthcare is understood to be a basic necessity, and is available to all through the taxes that residents pay into their government. When I moved to Maryland in 2007, I was consumed by anxiety. I had a good job with good health benefits, but what if I were to get sick enough that I could no longer work? What if I lost my job and it took me several months, or years, to find another? It’s common knowledge across the globe that Americans lose their homes when they get cancer, and carry crushing medical debt if their children have special medical needs. The passing of the Affordable Care Act, and the protections it contained, made me feel much safer here. America could be humane about health care after all.

That’s why I can’t understand why so many Republicans want to erase that progress and put stress back on American families and individuals. Surely they also have families of their own. Surely their constituents include families like mine, children like Liam. Why do they want children like my son to be left without access to reasonable health insurance once he’s out on his own? Why do they want to cap how much health care any one person is entitled to? Why do they want us to live in terror of losing our jobs or getting sick? Why do they think that families with sick children need the extra strain on top of what they’re already living? Why do they ignore the voices of the people they represent, and feel that they know better?

Please, sir, bring your Republican colleagues my story. Bring them all of our stories. Please appeal to their humanity and encourage them to do what is best for the people who are depending on them. Liam is counting on you. Our family needs the ACA “really much.”

Sincerely,

Me.




Bendy Straws

Every Little Bit

Every little bit counts. I have to believe that.

Even though my carefully-written letters to my political representatives go unanswered. Even though those representatives are already doing all the things I’d be asking them to, and supporting all the resistance that makes sense. It feels odd to write to them, knowing that their minds are already made up and they’re already on my side in the fight. But I have to believe that my calls and letters end up tallied on a spreadsheet somewhere and make a row or column just a little more impressive, make someone nod to themselves and say yes, yes I am doing right by these people.

I’m not changing votes. I’m not going to be the one who saves the ACA or finally gets the president’s tax returns into the light. I can’t give Trans kids the protection they need and I can’t keep states from shredding apart abortion rights. I don’t have the power to overturn immigration bans. The people whose minds need changing on these issues aren’t my representatives and aren’t listening to me.

But I did get an unexpected response this week from a local Islamic school, thanking me for my letter and expressing comfort in the knowledge that so many in the community reached out to them.

I’ve been reading Washington Post articles without the pressure of a paywall, and feeling good that a journalist is getting paid for their hard work today. Maybe one more stone will be turned, and one more important article will be written.

I received an email from my professional organization, thanking me for my engagement and informing me that they have written to the president and issued a public statement condemning the immigration ban.

Someone saw the Black Lives Matter pin on my coat, and asked where they could get one.

Maybe it’s okay that our actions are small and feel insignificant. Maybe it’s okay that all we have are straws. If we can get together and concentrate our efforts on the right camels, maybe the straws will be enough, in the end.

I have to believe that every little bit helps.

Get out there and find a camel to put your straw on.




This Month In Resistance And Accountability

I’m writing this today because I need to keep track of how I’m resisting the efforts of this administration to undo the hard work that’s improved health care and the economy and equal rights for so many. It’s not enough to talk about the fight: we need resistance and accountability. I need to make lists of my efforts so I’m not just telling myself that I’m fighting for equality and for access to health care and public schools and clean water and other basic human necessities. Talk is cheap. What have I done to back up my intentions?

Accountability

I have called or emailed (often both!) my Senators and my Congressman daily. They have already made their disagreement with Trump’s agenda very clear, often putting out public statements against his nominees and his hasty and bigoted Executive Orders before I’ve even had a chance to ask them to speak out. I call anyway, to thank them and to share stories about why their votes matter to me and my family.

I contacted my professional organization, asking them to make a public statement condemning the immigration ban.

I have been sharing the This Week in Autocracy spreadsheet on Facebook, hoping that others can use it to investigate news stories and find new ways they can safely protest and resist this administration.

I’ve followed more voices from minority communities on Twitter, so I can try and learn to listen, and to understand how I am helping – or hurting – with the choices I make.

I wrote a dozen letters to local Islamic centers and mosques, telling them that they have friends here who will fight for their rights and freedoms.

I signed up to volunteer for Lawyers for Good Government, who have been fighting the immigration ban and providing legal counsel to those who were detained in airports across the country when the ban was enacted. I haven’t been contacted yet, but at least I’m on their list if they need me.

I contacted my county executive, asking him to reconsider his veto of a local bill which would have made my area a “sanctuary” county where police couldn’t harass or detain people on suspicion of illegal immigration status. I also contacted my representative on the county council and thanked her for voting for the bill even though she knew it couldn’t pass the veto.

I bought Organizing for Social Change after writing to my local library asking that they purchase copies for their collection. And I’ve been reading it, and I’m examining my budget to try and make it possible for me to attend a related workshop in Baltimore next fall. It’s a longshot, especially trying to collect enough vacation time for the week-long event, but you never know.

Am I doing enough? Oh, of course not. I should be attending local meetings, doing more research into local and state politics, and planning to attend rallies and protests. I should be donating more money to groups doing the hard work. But I’m human, and there are only so many hours in a day and only so much energy in my body and money in my wallet. I sometimes need to remind myself that even little things count. I am small, and my actions are only the tiniest of ripples in this ocean. But ripples can make waves. We are many, and our actions are more powerful together.

Tell me: what are you doing to resist? How are you finding ways to fit activism into your life without completely sacrificing your mental and physical health?