basically BECKY blog

  • Rebecca Branle

To the ones who paved the way for yesterday:


Donald Trump's years of documented racism didn't bother you. You liked his "style."


Steve Bannon and Steve Miller were "anti-establishment" and you were thrilled by their boldness.


Kyle Rittenhouse punched girls and came to murder, so you made him a hero. You made him rich.


And now Mike Miller and Dave Zimmerman do broadcasts about how bad diversity in schools and business is and openly mock LGBTQ+ people and you plunge their signs into your front yard and agree with them that "parents don't want diversity," because when you hear the word parent you only see white and straight. When you hear the word business and employee, you only see white and straight.

You throw your energy into anger because babies on the border are being fed formula. You want those babies to starve while you march in your pro-life rally and rally against healthcare for all. You're only pro-rich-white-life.


You watch FoxNews and they tell you about Replacement Theory and show images of migrants crossing the border. You're sure those folks with nothing but the clothing on their backs, soaked from crossing rivers, are loaded down with drugs. What drugs? Where? You rant about lack of workers to fill your jobs but it never occurs to you how much these folks want to work. It's never occurred to you that these folks aren't dangerous, they're fleeing danger, just trying to save their families. It doesn't register that they deserve your love instead of your disgust.


You hold tight to your guns. You want to carry them concealed. You want more magazines. You hang your black flag over your front porch and stick that constitution sticker to the back of your truck and wear your we-the-(white)-people t-shirts and flex your silly muscles. You realize the constitution didn't include me. And you love it.


Because you want to control my body and my mind because heaven forbid women get a chance to rule the world, to fix it. Heaven forbid we create real equality, real equity. Heaven forbid we take the racism and misogyny out of the founding father's words and make the words themselves real. Where would you be then? In a world where someone as dumb as Donald Trump couldn't be president? Where someone as dense as Dave Zimmerman would be laughed out of public office? In a world where Kyle Rittenhouse is in jail?

That's the world I want.


Sometimes, choosing love means calling people out. It's not too late to bring those flags in, to take down those signs, and to right our path. There's room for you over here, but hurry. We're running out of time to save our country.


Oh, and P.S. Jesus wasn't white with blue eyes and he's really bummed by your behavior.


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  • Rebecca Branle

Updated: Dec 31, 2021

Hey Mike,

I’m wondering what it takes

To make someone you know invisible,

To hold up a glass

And toast to our past

Knowing my future’s bound to be miserable.


Mr. Best Dressed Best Man

Came armed with charm to spare,

Working the room

Protecting the groom.

Did you even know I was there?


Because you knew she was there,

At his bachelor night bash.

He was in a boozy blur

When he forced himself on her

Then threw her out like she was trash.


You discarded me like I was trash,

When you raised that fucking glass.

A witty toast to happily ever after

Even after you knew it couldn’t last.


Did everyone know about his past?


Because men who hurt women hurt all women.

Even the ones wearing white dresses.

Soon there were fights with fists

Instead of wedded bliss,

And I got added to his list of pretty messes.


When it made the paper and the sirens blew,

Did you shrug and say, “Who knew?”

You in your black tux,

Me all black and blue.

Hey Mike,

This one’s for you.


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  • Rebecca Branle

Updated: Dec 29, 2021

If I could, I’d sweep the hair back from your eyes.

I’d let my fingers linger there, on your cheek.

I’d say you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,

Even if your heart and your knees feel weak.


If I could I’d hold you in a safe embrace.

And tell you to take a moment to rest,

To find comfort in your heart’s steady beat, beat, beat,

I’d tell you you’ll find the answers in your chest.


I’d tell you not to make them into heroes,

The ones whose love came with a list of demands.

They said you’ve never been quite right, right, right,

As guilt dripped like blood from their hands.


Sweetest girl, don’t think because they’re old they’re wise.

Don’t you dare think they know what’s true.

There’s hate buried in the bed of their lies, lies, lies.

Baby, they’re afraid of you.


Because you’re a force that hasn’t had its hour,

You’re a well of truth waiting to flow.

Girl, stop handing them all your precious power.

Start listening to what you know, know, know.


Hate is hurt.

Hate is blind.


Love is strong.

Love is kind.


So you be strong.

So you be kind.


You keep making your way.

It’s gonna be okay, okay, okay.


It’s gonna be okay.




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