Tell Me Where To Stand

I do not wear a safety pin. I never put a green dot on my hand. The best way I know to show you I am a “safe person” is to be a safe person. To say “good morning” on the bus. To smile as we pass on the sidewalk. To compliment that really awesome sweater you are wearing, even though we have never seen each other before and will not again. To say something if I see something.

To my family and friends who do not have the same privileges as me. To the people I have never met but may need that friendship. Tell me where to stand.

If you want me behind you, offering all the support I can, propping you up, helping push you forward, if that is what is needed. Tell me. I will stand there.

If you want me beside you, marching arm in arm, overlapping our shields to form an impenetrable barrier, blazing this trail together. Tell me. I will stand there.

And if, heaven forbid, you are ever in need of a shield, if you need someone to stand between you and the slings and arrows of this world, to block the worst of the hate that comes your direction, to stand in front and help clear the way. Tell me. I will stand there.

You do not have to tell me in words. Your eyes can speak volumes. The way you stand can tell me what I need to know. I promise to listen with my eyes as well as my ears. To support, share, or protect as desired, with my presence as well as my words.

Tell me where you want me to stand. I will stand there.