About the Author

Jill Maisch - as a writer, speaker, missionary, and educator - has a tendency to wander upstream... against the more comfortable current of social and spiritual complacency.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

It's Right to Care...

Most people who know me (including those who tolerate my progressive bent and love me anyway...) know I am passionate about equal rights for all people.  To that end I keep a Human Rights Campaign "equal sign" magnet on the back of my car.  It represents my conviction that equal rights for all people includes our LGBT sisters and brothers.

Because of the HRC magnet on my car, I have been called a faggot, a lesbian, a bitch, and queer… and I’ve been flicked off on more than one occasion.  I guess for some it’s beyond comprehension that a straight woman – who is a wife, mother, stepmother, and grandmother – could possibly care about equal rights for those who are not straight.

This past Sunday, I left a restaurant and found a note tucked under the windshield wiper of my car.  Before removing and reading the note, and assuming the worst, I walked around my car looking for signs of vandalism.  At the very least I expected to find that my HRC magnet had been taken. 

Nothing.  No dents.  No evidence of “keying”.  The magnet was in place.  I walked back to the front of the car and took a picture of the note with my cell phone.  I was still sure it was a hate note and I thought I should take a picture in case the police needed it for evidence.  After removing the note I saw that it had been written on the back of a RiteAid receipt.  It read:

Unknown car driver –
I’d just like to say, I have no idea who you are, but I love your bumper stickers.  The human rights campaign was the only reason I got to take my date to prom.  You’re wonderful. (heart)
P.S. Pretty brave for Carroll County ;-)

I couldn’t believe what I had just read, so I read it again… and then I cried.

I was expecting words of prejudice and hate… but these were beautiful, sincere words of thanks. 

Nearby a car slowed to a stop.  A young woman got out and walked toward me - smiling.  She asked, “Is that your car?”  I nodded and asked, “Is this your note?”  She nodded.  I was too choked up to talk – we just hugged.  She thanked me for caring and I thanked her for the affirmation that it’s right to care. 

I’m still smiling.

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