I hope that by just being a competent member and expressing

Hear the words of Mark Takano, the first openly gay person of color elected to the United States Congress, who declared: “I hope that by just being a competent member and expressing informed views on issues that aren't related to issues of LGBT equality, Republicans see me as a general asset.” In this statement lies the quiet strength of one who knows the burden of identity in a divided land, and yet seeks not only to be known by that identity, but also by the wisdom and service he brings to all. It is the cry of one who longs for recognition not as a symbol alone, but as a whole human being—capable, intelligent, and dedicated.

The meaning of his words is clear: Takano seeks to remind us that equality is not achieved when a person is tolerated only in matters of their identity. True equality arises when their voice is valued across the full spectrum of human concern. To be confined only to speaking on LGBT issues would be to be placed in a smaller box, a token position. But to be respected on economics, foreign policy, education, and justice alike—that is to be seen as fully human, fully capable, fully equal. His hope is that even those who oppose his identity might yet see the worth of his contributions as a general asset to the common good.

The origin of such a struggle lies deep in the history of minorities who have entered into halls of power. Consider the story of Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress in 1968. She was often expected to speak only on issues of race or gender, as if her mind and wisdom had no place beyond them. Yet she insisted upon being heard on all matters of governance, declaring herself “unbought and unbossed.” Like Takano, she sought not to be reduced to a single aspect of her identity, but to be recognized as a leader for all people.

Takano’s words also reveal the challenge of politics: how to build bridges with those who may not share your background, your struggles, or your values. He acknowledges Republicans, not with bitterness, but with hope—that competence and integrity might transcend prejudice, that good work and informed voice might be honored even across partisan lines. In this, his words are not only political strategy but also moral teaching: that one can respond to division not with withdrawal, but with steadfast contribution.

Yet his statement also carries sorrow, for it acknowledges that the burden of minorities is often double: to prove themselves not only equal but exemplary, to show competence beyond question, in order to earn respect freely given to others. It is a heavy burden, yet one borne with courage. For by carrying it, Takano helps to widen the path, so that those who come after may walk it with less weight upon their shoulders.

The lesson, O children of tomorrow, is this: when you fight for equality, do not demand only the right to speak of your struggles, but also the right to be seen as fully human, with gifts and wisdom that reach every sphere of life. Respect those who break barriers, but do not confine them to the narrow spaces of identity alone. Honor their voices on every matter, for true inclusion means not only to tolerate presence, but to embrace contribution.

So live with courage and wisdom. Whatever your identity, whatever your struggle, bring forth your full self into the world. Show competence, offer informed views, and work for the common good, as Takano has done. And when you encounter those who are different, do not see them only through the lens of their difference. See them, instead, as fellow builders of society, as assets to the shared destiny of humankind. In this way, the dream of equality will move from mere tolerance to true fellowship, and the bonds of division will at last begin to heal.