My dad's honkin'

About 15 years ago, while riding on the back of my dad's Yamaha, we cruised past some picketers in front of a factory.
"Toot-toot!" as he blew the bike's horn.
"Why did you do that?", I loudly asked over the wind and engine.
"To give them my support"
"What were they picketing for?"
"I don't know", he said, "But anyone who is willing to stand-up for something they want and believe in could use a little support"
He continued in his very deliberate, often too methodical explanatory style, "It doesn't mean necessarily I support their cause, but I will support their right to support it"

It took me a while to digest that. Years. But it has become a part of my values today.
I find it abhorrent when demonstrations, protests or simple dialog is censured, truncated or prevented because it may not be popular. Even when a supposedly crazy evangelist is preaching on the street corner. Don't shuffle him off, let him testify.

The KKK always wants to put up a cross on our fair city's square during the winter holidays. Do I agree with the KKK? Hell no! Do I think they should have the right to display goofy crap at Christmas? Absolutely. I guess the KKK's argument is that a local Jewish federation puts a menorah up during Hanukkah, so why not us?

In college there was a "Crazy-preacher-guy" who would stand in front of the student center and, well preach. He alway drew a nice sized crowd. He was afterall entertaining. He was a little to the right. Anti-gay, anti-drug, rock-n-roll, the usual. So, I went off on him one day, admittedly mocking him, but in protest to what he was saying. It kind of stunned him. No harm done. A few minutes later the fat campus police (sorry, ad hominem) came by and told him he had to leave. I was dismayed. "He doesn't have a permit", they said. I wrote a letter to the school paper and invited some of the other groups on campus to support his next demomstration. It never happened.

A few years ago Neo-Nazis were planning a parade through downtown. It was eventually cancelled due to fears of rioting and uncontrollable protests. Maybe it was a wise choice, but I would have loved to have been on the sidelines, cussing and screaming, booing and hissing all the while supporting and protecting the right for it to happen.

I don't want to let fear of what I don't like (or you don't like) prevent me from having the opportunity to evaluate and choose.