Ah the cultural wars.

Right now the two sides that seem to have emerged – although they are far from evenly or accurately or even truly divided – are represented by the hot pink feminist queen cats, while the opposition is being represented by a small town wannabe cowboy. (For those of us who have seen the Barbie movie, the irony is not lost.)

For so much of the world’s history, those in power have and even now continue to write how the story is told. What is important. Whose narrative actually matters.

They control life for everyone else. Commerce. Access. Health. Sustainability. Literally who lives and who dies – even if what that looks like is far more subtle than it used to be.

The paradox of this world is, however, that those who have been in power for the last many decades, centuries, even millennia – well, they are, in fact, outnumbered by all of the “others.”

Women. Humans with different skin tones. People with different accents and backgrounds. Children of God who come from foreign countries or are descended from them, which by the way, is nearly everyone in this nation in which my family resides, unless they happen to be descendants of those native to these lands (may they be blessed and may they forgive us). Brothers or sisters or siblings who think differently. Live differently. Were made differently.

While each individual group may be smaller than the “silent majority” who are so excited about the intolerance and hatred that have dominated human history seemingly running rampant right now – the truth is that they are the minority.

At least compared with all the rest of us “others” who refuse to give into their narrative. Who stand for one another. Who will never go silently when we see our neighbors being trampled in small towns, big towns, major cities, or anywhere else.

So, enjoy your horsies. Because we know how this story really ends. And love will win.