Morgan, Georgia, 1/20/25

When I was 20, I submitted a story about my parents after the January 6th insurrection. I was full of hope that my parents' alt-right, insane views would be changed in the upcoming administration. Regardless of their support of insurrectionists and a felon (albeit not one then), I had a hope that the parents who preached loving your neighbor as yourself and loving the least of these would see how the right's views contradict all of it. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I am writing this again on an infamous day in America's history—the day when a convicted felon and rapist is sworn into his second presidency. I am, because of extenuating circumstances, living at home for the next six months. My parents sit proudly on their couch, watching the man who promises to tear families apart and strip away so many rights of those we are called to care about, clap, and experience joy. As if a preacher just said something profound, they smile, clap, and call out "amen." I sit in the room loaned to me by my parents, dreading the next six months of my prison sentence here. It hasn't gotten better. They have taken the cross of Christian nationalism and are hell-bent on carrying it.

It is a dark time. This may seem hopeless because I struggle to find hope not only in my daily life but also in America's sanctity. Gone is the girl who has faith in her parents. Gone is the America we have become so accustomed to. It'll be four long years, and hopefully, only four years. It'll be a long six months living here with my indoctrinated parents.

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(NOTE): Morgan’s story from January 2021 can be read here:

I’d always known, but now it's so obvious

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