Sirois 1

Jocelyne Sirois

Mrs. Lavigne

ELA 111

4 June 2023

MGP

Dear oppressors,

Did I do something wrong? To upset you? To make you angry? To make you hate me? Is

there a reason for all this madness? A reason why you treat me the way you do? You know,

when I walk down the hall, I can hear your whispers. The comments. The remarks. The mockery.

I can feel all your eyes gazing at me, burning into my soul. You ignore my needs, my questions,

my successes, my contributions, and worst of all, you ignore my friendliness, my sense of self,

and my identity. You act like I don’t exist, but the minute that something goes wrong, or you

need something, or you wish to entertain your friends, I am suddenly wanted... for all the wrong

reasons. Do you know how that feels? To feel useless to society, to have no one on your side, to

be alone? I feel judged, disrespected, disregarded by all the discrimination, prejudice,

stereotyping that occurs nowadays. Each time I speak, someone interrupts because their point is

more important than mine. Years ago, you taught me that speaking up just draws more attention,

more drama, more conflict. You called me an attention-seeker if I spoke my thoughts or troubles.

Yet it's clear that you’re the seeker, for causing conflicts, judging or should I say “joking”. Each

time you gossip, stare, or abuse, I feel as though multiple knives are being launched into my

chest, piercing into my heart and soul, draining my sanity.

You look at me as though I killed someone, to be clear I haven’t. Why do you treat

people differently, just for the color of their skin? On their religion? On our identities,
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sexualities, our disabilities, and struggles. So what if she walked around with a limp? If you gave

her a chance, you would see that she is much more than how you see her. So what if he has a

speech impediment, anxiety, depression, something out of his control? So what if they’re queer?

You do realize that we are not deaf, blind, or clueless, right? Unlike you, we have a heart, we

accept others for who they are not for how they appear but for how they treat others. We have

feelings, you know, everything that you say, do, or post, we feel. Some feel it worse than others,

others have endured discrimination for years therefore making them numb to your words. I don’t

think you realize how your actions affect so many people. We get it, everyone wants power,

maybe if you treated everyone equally you would gain more “followers” and respect, if that’s

what you’re aiming for. Violence, slurs, criticisms and stereotyping only creates fear, hatred,

slavery. Don’t question our loyalty to you, we’ll be loyal when you decide to treat us like

“normal” human beings. “Normality”, what society seems to strive for, doesn’t make sense. Why

do you all dress the same, speak the same, want to be like everyone else, yet, in your Instagram

bios and all forms of social media, you write ♦positive vibes only♦ or ♦BE UNIQUE♦ but the

minute that you find someone ever so slightly different, you try to put them down.

You promote mental illnesses as though they are a prized possession, something that you

all “have” but for those who are diagnosed by psychologists/psychiatrists are apparently faking it

for attention. Tell me why it's okay for you to say “no I can’t do that, I have ♦anxiety,

depression♦” but for me and others, who have been diagnosed with anxiety, or any other

disability, it’s considered wrong to have these feelings, these struggles like a shaky voice, to be

visibly trembling, shutting down, crying, or whispering while performing average tasks. Instead

of being accepted, supported, or assisted, we are silenced, ignored, and bullied. We are the ones

who are forced to accept how other people treat us, why can’t you do the same?
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Why is it so difficult for everyone to get along? Couldn’t we just be equal or at least

accepting? Could we not put other people down, can’t we embrace our differences? Could we

teach our young that they can do anything, like walking down the street safely, being confident,

or even teaching them to respect everyone for who they are? I know this letter will never get to

you, whether it be because it was “lost” in the mail, “forgotten” to be delivered, or “left” behind

with the others, these are all the words that I and many others have always wanted to say. So if

you are reading this now, please tell us, what did we do wrong?

Sincerely,

The Oppressed