My efforts at lobbying in support of the abused, neglected, and orphaned children in the state of Texas continued this morning.
After my disappointing and disheartening trip to the State Capitol last week, to talk to my local representative about the upcoming budget for these children, I wrote an email to the representative describing my position and my experience in her office. A return email from a staffer requested my telephone number so that she could speak with me about my experience and about the representatives support for the children of the state. I sent my number, but included that there was no need to call. That I did in fact understand what role the representative played in writing budgets and that the representative could still count on my support (which she can. Her opponents have made this state last among states in spending for children.)
She called this morning. I was polite. I was understanding. I was respectful. I'm afraid that what I was not was truthful. I'm afraid I let politeness smother the truth as I understand it.
What my representative agreed to in the budget will be a greater hardship for the children already suffering trauma.
I know that there are people in the world who would see the 'hardship' of my state as a huge step forward for their children. Their children lack food and clean water and shelter. Their lives are torn apart by disease and war.
I cannot reconcile these two worlds. I wish I could.
What I can do is speak for those being injured in my neighborhood.
But I must learn to lovingly speak the harsh truth and not hide the truth behind a curtain of politeness.