Sit and Listen.

“Harris is a communist,” My grandfather protests. 

“Better a communist than a felon,” My father shoots back. 

I sit on the floor in the room over. I have just returned from a communist country. And contrary to the popular belief of most Americans, it wasn’t the epitome of evil we’ve been told. 

The Vietnamese are thriving. Their economy is booming, ours is crashing into a recession. Their news is strict about facts. There are no flashy headlines, no published scandals or false facts. It may be curated, but it is not false. There is more free speech in Vietnam than in America. The words female, inequality, ethnicity, gender, prejudice, activism, they are not banned from their medical and developmental departments. There may be censored ads on CNN, but there is no false news, no executive orders to censor science. 

“I got my first bill from school today,” My friend tells me. “$8,000 for three classes,”

“What about scholarships?” I asked. “What about your government aid?” 

“My FASFA hasn’t come through. I don’t know why. I can’t access it anymore,” She said. “I can’t afford college. I’m a semester in and I need to drop out,”

Yet, somehow, the evils of a Communist country boast a 98% literacy rate. America lags at a 79%.  Vietnam is making massive strides towards making higher level education more accessible, more affordable, and enhancing the quality of what they teach. America is actively working towards the opposite. 

“With the freeze on federal funding,” The principal of Fulbright University says, his tie loosened and shirt rumpled, “60 percent of our funding has been cut. He’s making it a permanent cut- hanging us out to dry with this break in the Vietnam-American friendship society,” 

At the top of American politics, a man plays god with lives. 

And yet, Harris is a communist. Deemed so because of something my grandfather cannot accurately define, something he has not seen or given a chance to succeed clearly holds such evil. 

I am not a proponent to or for communism, I just find the aversion- the hatred and fear that our country has for it to be fascinating. And terrifying when that fear is able to put a convicted felon on the highest seat of power in our country. 

My teacher introduced his family in equal part on the first day. Half of his slideshow was dedicated to his family, to his heritage and origins. 

His family were illegal immigrants. He made that perfectly clear upon our first introduction. He was an illegal immigrant. They snuck into the States for the chance to make better lives for themselves, for their family. 

“We aren’t a bunch of commies in here,” He snaps as we look at each other for answers on a test. 

Two minutes later, he calls, “Alright clase, go on and make some unidad en tu comunidad,” 

We run to the Spanish speaker in the back of the class and spread the answers he provides. The hypocrisy is noted in the raised eyebrows and the slightly amused eyes of my classmates.

The next class, he begins to talk about migration and immigration. Half of the class is zoned out. The other half is not-so-discretely working on something else. “Though if all of these commies are gonna keep sneaking across the border cause its all that bad over there,” he continues from behind his podium, “Then maybe its not such a bad idea to just toss a few nukes down there, give ‘em all a chance to start over,” 

He says it so casually. The lesson moves on even as I snap to alertness, confusion and anger in my blood as I look around at my class. 

They remain asleep, zoned out or texting. Someone is playing Block Blast. No one seems to care. My hand twitches. 

Say something, the terrified and angry voice in my gut urges. Say anything. 

The words of my teacher do not scare me. It’s the way no one paid attention. It’s the way I didn’t raise my hand.