How Does It Feel When Your Government Wants to Eradicate You? Read On.

I spent decades of my life as a
service member, and in my final years I chose to be a MEDEVAC pilot to save
people rather than kill them. I volunteered as a superhero cosplayer to raise
money for desperately ill children and their families. I spent my summer flying
as a firefighter, saving ranches owned by Trump donors, properties owned by the
Mormon Church, and Bible camps run by people who would never let people like me
attend.

I went on to fly air ambulance
helicopters in one of the reddest parts of the country while awaiting my
Canadian permanent residency paperwork. When I was flying people around who
needed urgent medical care quickly, I could take a pretty good guess that they were
likely the sort of people who voted for Trump and would happily support
“putting all those transgenders in mental institutions where they belong.” But
they couldn’t because they were intubated, and I was busy flying them to a better
hospital, regardless of what they might think of me.

But none of it matters. My
government, and the people who voted it into office, have declared me wrong
life, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Indeed, the president
explicitly ran on the idea that I am wrong life; it was a feature and not a
bug. His campaign spent hundreds
of millions of dollars promoting the idea that anyone who doesn’t want
wrong life eliminated is against the Herrenvolk. It was messaging
straight out of the Nazi
playbook, just targeting a different group.