by Sam Holmes

Dear Linda Holmes,

via NPR

My Aunt first showed me one of your blogs over a year ago. That introduction has been, without a doubt, one of the greatest gifts that she has given me in the past 18 years. First and foremost, I have to say thank you. I am one of many people who love your blogs. The topics that you’ve written about, with their honesty and variety, have resonated with me. Through articles such as “Hey, Kid: Thoughts For The Young Oddballs We Need So Badly” you have reminded me that it’s important to embrace the quirks and imperfections that I have been conditioned to hide. True Love, Book Fights, And Why Ugly Stories Matter encourages complete honesty in storytelling. I try to incorporate this quality into my own writing. Beams of positivity emanates from every word that you write. Retta,  Quvenzhané Wallis, Lupita Nyong’o and other talented women of color have been featured in your works.

At the same time, you confront important issues. Writing openly, you shed light on the unfortunate realities that tend to get swept beneath the rug. It’s no secret that fat shaming, colorism, sexism, and stigmatized mental health widely omitted from the pages of pop culture.  However, you have used your position as a pop-culture journalist to bring these societal problems to the forefront of our collective consciousness. You hold an entire culture accountable for bullying people. The ideas in Chris Christie And Pulling The Red Handle are a firm reminder that we are all deserving of fundamental human decency. We all have certain topics that trigger us. Red handles, the insecurities or events that are the most upsetting, must never be used against us.  Whether it’s weight, socio-economic identity, or personal background, there is always a topic that is off-limits.  I have thought about red handles and how to avoid them when interacting with people on a day to day basis. Everyone from high school students to United States governors should be treated with respect. You reinforce this vital truth.

At this point I realize that I may be summarizing your achievements.  While I have a deep admiration for the pieces of your writing that appear on NPR every so often, my appreciation for your contributions goes beyond the official pieces of your portfolio. After reading one of your entries, I usually scroll down the page to see how other people reacted to your thoughts. Enthusiasm saturates the comments section. People are thrilled, enlightened, and moved by your newest creation. At the same time, however, there are commenters whose words are seared with hate. I’ve witnessed condescending readers attempt to install contempt in a space that should be used for discussion and reflection. Derogatory language, ad hominem attacks, and unfiltered ignorance draw a stark contrast to the thoughtful articles that precede them. Hidden behind the tin veil of anonymity, spiteful internet users sometimes become virtual monsters. Their words are horrific. They’re dehumanizing and acceptable. Reading through them can be painful for me. When I first saw these comments on your pieces, I could only imagine the strength that it took to continue writing.

A few months later, I experienced a similar response from anonymous internet users. I have made my foray into the wonderful world of internet activism during the past year. Receiving positive feedback on my first few pieces, I built up enough confidence to explore topics that are not always easy to talk about. Your work inspired me. Sexualization, race relations, and gender dynamics, topics that I had previously been too scared to write about, began to make appearances in my portfolio. At the same time, disapproving comments surfaced as well. After a few claims that I “gallantly” ignore intergender problems, I was prepared to scale back the frequency of my pieces. Then I remembered you. Honesty and fearlessness can attract some critics. But, it also ensures that your voice is heard. Hatred cannot silence me. Candor creates change. Thank you for being a reminder of that beautiful truth.

Linda, your experiences never fail to encourage me. I hope to pass on this inspiration. To the other girls who are trying to discover their journalistic bravery: I know how you’re feeling right now. I’ve been in your shoes. You’ve spent the past few days, weeks, or months putting your soul into a blog post or online article. Caffeinated spurts of creation, piles of rough drafts, and all-nighters have accompanied you on the journey to perfect this piece.  After it’s published, you find that some less-than-pleased visitors have decided to belittle your work. Remember Linda Holmes. Be brave, honor authenticity, and speak the truth.