Dear Vice President,
Recently, I stumbled upon a tweet of yours that stirred up some deep emotions within me. For far too long, I’ve been grappling with anger over numerous issues in our nation. But on that particular night, my simmering frustration boiled over. I’ve come to the unsettling realization that I no longer recognize the values of the country I live in, nor do I trust its leadership. It’s infuriating.
Personal responsibility, Mr. Vice President? What exactly are you implying? I’m struggling to comprehend how my son, who is non-verbal, non-mobile, tube-fed, vision-impaired, and medically fragile at just six years old, is supposed to assume personal responsibility for his health. After all, it was his fault he was born with a genetic disorder, right? Perhaps if he had just put in a bit more effort to eat as an infant, instead of vomiting everything we provided, he wouldn’t need that feeding tube. Those countless hours spent in therapy trying to help him achieve basic milestones like sitting up or crawling clearly weren’t enough—he should have tried harder, right?
Despite the perceived lack of effort on his part, here we are. I have a child who will never be healthy, and neither of us can be blamed for that reality. Here’s my urgent question: If lifetime insurance caps are reinstated and Medicaid is slashed, how is my son supposed to access the extensive medical services he requires to survive? Without the healthcare that our private insurance and Medicaid provide, his life is in jeopardy. If I seem overly dramatic, it’s because I am. Walk a mile in my shoes, and you’ll understand the weight of my concerns, as well as those of my friends with similarly fragile children.
Hundreds of miles away from where I tucked my son into bed last night, a group of decision-makers—predominantly white men, mind you—quietly drafted legislation that implies my son’s life has a financial ceiling. As a father, how would you react if someone told you that about one of your children? Wouldn’t you fight tooth and nail and maybe even become a little dramatic?
Oh, I see. You’re not suggesting that my son lacks personal responsibility for his health. So, you’re talking about me and my husband? My husband works tirelessly as a high school teacher and coach, pouring his heart into shaping the next generation while teaching them about the very personal responsibility you extol. Yet, it’s no secret that educators aren’t paid handsomely, and that income certainly won’t cover the necessary costs if we lose our insurance or Medicaid for our son.
And what about me? Let’s talk about the immense burden of personal responsibility I carry—the kind that every mother of a special needs child knows all too well. I lie awake at night, consumed by worries about my child’s future, which is entirely dependent on me. Sometimes, I feel more like his nurse or manager, bogged down with phone calls and paperwork on his behalf. My own health—both physical and mental—is crucial because if I falter, how can I care for my son? What would happen to him? Don’t even think about suggesting that I haven’t acted responsibly.
Vice President, I know many people in my community who admire you. They supported the individual who selected you as his running mate, but they see you as the one who can restore this country to greatness. Why? Because you profess Christian values and a pro-life stance.
I, too, hold Christian beliefs. However, like Gandhi, I find myself at odds with many Christians today, as they often stray far from Christ-like principles. Regrettably, I have to place you in that category as well. There’s nothing truly pro-life about stripping Medicaid and allowing the sick and impoverished to suffer while the affluent thrive. Your interpretation of Christianity seems to echo the prosperity gospel: work hard and be virtuous, and you will be rewarded. But real life doesn’t work that way. Good, hardworking individuals fall ill and require costly care, which often leads to their financial ruin. Do you truly believe that Jesus would agree that my son’s life, or anyone’s for that matter, should have a monetary limit?
In response to your previous tweet, you stated, “You may be right, that may be the Republican way, but I sure hope you’re wrong about it being the American way.” This is not the America I envision for my children, and they certainly won’t be taught to embrace these values. Illness or poverty is not a character flaw. We are meant to support each other; instead, you seem to advocate for a society where only the wealthy, able-bodied, or those who meet arbitrary standards of “personal responsibility” are entitled to the America you are creating. Well, that’s unacceptable, Mr. Vice President. My anger is justified, and I will continue to advocate fiercely for my child and all individuals impacted by this inhumane policy. That, I believe, embodies my personal responsibility.
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Summary
In this open letter to Vice President Pence, the author passionately articulates the challenges faced by families with medically fragile children. She questions the notion of personal responsibility in the context of health care, expressing frustration over policies that threaten the well-being of vulnerable individuals. The piece highlights the emotional weight carried by parents and advocates for a more compassionate approach to health care and societal support.