Dear family and friends,

I am reaching out personally to ask you to support Kamala Harris for president.

As long as I have been voting, I have voted to realize a world that’s equitable for all people – a world that recognizes people as people. To this point, I don’t believe it’s possible to have “policy” discussions until we fully recognize the humanity of our country. The hope I feel for a compassionate and pragmatic leader who advocates personal freedom is profound. I believe it’s time for us to, in the famous words of Kamala Harris, “turn the page and start writing the next chapter in the most extraordinary story ever told.”

The past several years, I have worked as a community college communications professor. In this time, I have had the privilege of working with hundreds of students – it has been a highlight of my life, but it’s come with a very harsh reality: too many people are not all right, because they are struggling to exist openly and freely.

For the past decade, despite the progress made, a mean-spirited campaign and rhetoric has dominated our political, legislative, and judicial landscape – and echoes of that intolerance have even bled into my classrooms. I have personally had to walk the line between creating an open space for people to be who they are, while also welcoming a difference of opinion.

The reality is, at least once per semester, I receive an email or assignment submission that contains suicidal ideation or intention. The reasons for this vary but the majority of students I interact with who have these thoughts generally have one thing in common: They’re trying to exist in a world that makes it challenging for them to be people first – and they feel alone.

I have interacted with a number of students who identify as transgender, for example. I do my best to advocate for basic respect and say: “Beyond those doors you are free to be who you are and think what you want – but in my class, you will be respectful.”

My policy is sometimes ignored. On a few occasions, a student who is trans has been intentionally misgendered – by people who “knew him when he was a she.” I can have a call-in meeting with the student, but the damage is done. The attitude is present. The anxiety for that student exists now – and it’s heightened when peers discuss bathroom bills designed to target people who are transgender, in an attempt to shame them into hiding.

I have worked with a number of students, who through assignments, after-class conversations, emails, or years later, have confided in me who they are. They’ve sought advice related to “coming out,” coping, navigating rejection, or the simple act of saying “hello” to someone they like. The conversations usually begin with, “Because you teach communication…”

Usually, these people are struggling to exist in places where love should be the strongest. One remarked his father is a pastor and he can’t exist openly because his family has been “clear” on the issue. His brother, who is enlisted in the military, saw him looking at the graphic novel Heartstopper and said: “That’s gay shit. Do we need to have a talk?”

Another student, reached out to mention living in a Catholic home and that his mother would likely be accepting of who he is, but his father will not. His fear was that he’d be kicked out — and so that fear of rejection and depression stays with him. He’s developed addictions and sometimes simply seeks the “escape” of a cold shower to cry.

I have personally known people who’ve been disowned for coming out, who’ve been kicked out for coming out, and who’ve lived recklessly because they’re alone. I’ve had friends attempt suicide and I have acquaintances who’ve died.

We are supposed to be past this. We are supposed to be beyond the necessity of “coming out.” We are supposed to be past the fear that, at any moment, rights that have been won will be lost — but here we are. We see open mockery of people for being who they are – and who they have a right to be. At the end of the day, a person who is trans, or a person who is gay, is still part of “the people” our government is supposed to represent.

But here we are now – again asking questions about bathrooms and gender-affirming care. Here we are now, staring down suggestions that restoring abortion access somehow means your child can have a sex change at school without you knowing. There is a clear and brazen attempt to vilify people whose personhood is somehow a threat. I believe one of our greatest opportunities in this election is to reject intolerance.

To this point, I have also witnessed the struggles of people living with disabilities – in a world where a presidential candidate has openly mocked people for having disabilities. That behavior creates a culture of inequity.

For example, I worked with a student who is blind and had to navigate a campus that lacked an accessible map, braille markers, and “automatic” doors with the sensors hidden behind the door. I fought for that student – for a map, for markers, for a braillewriter – for help – and I was frustrated by the bureaucratic process and shifting of responsibility, in which few, if any, of those accommodations were made. Imagine how the student felt.

I’ve worked with a student who had severe intellectual disabilities, who couldn’t remember to submit her memorandum for accommodations. I visited the office on multiple occasions, in an attempt to secure the student help and was told I was “acting inappropriately” by a person in the resource office who said “college isn’t for everyone” and that “physical disabilities are easier than mental ones.” That student failed because people who should know better didn’t do better – because there was an attitude of inequity present in that office.

I grew up in a family of educators. I grew up in a family of love and inclusiveness. I grew up in a family that included people with disabilities because we have family members who live with them. Because of this, I am a fierce advocate – so when I meet a student who needs help, I will fight for them to receive what they are entitled to. I grew up to believe in the potential of people, the access to learning, and equity. So when you send a braillewriter out for repairs two weeks before finals, when you’ve had all semester, I’ll challenge you. When you mock people with disabilities, I will absolutely reject you.

I ask you to help me reject a mean-spirited, petty man who seeks to legislate people into hiding and who openly mocks people for things like disabilities. Help me restore hope – and to usher in a future I have long-believed us capable of – a future that ensures and enshrines basic human rights. We have to advocate for a future that’s possible for all. We deserve a country that erases a need for cold showers to cry and suicide notes written from a desperation to live.

I have always been encouraged to have hope – to be resilient – and to chase joy. My grandma often told me, “May your joy be as deep as the ocean and your sorrow as light as its foam.” Let’s chase joy together. That starts by recognizing people as people. That starts by turning the page to help write the next chapter in the most extraordinary story ever told. That starts on November 5 by electing Kamala Harris for president.

I hope you’ll join me in casting your ballot for Kamala.

-Bobby