​Dear Sen. Graham,
 
I am a 7th generation South Carolinian on my mother’s side, and a third generation English professor here in South Carolina. My great-great grandparents had a home and land in Rock Hill, SC, and long before the Civil Rights Act and integration, my family would invite Catawba Indians to camp out on their land when Rock Hill was too prejudice to offer American Indians room and board for the night. My mom, descendent from that side of the family, always referred to you as “good ole Lindsey”. Each time you were in the news and despite your conservatism, my mom was sure you were the closest thing to a liberal we would ever see in office in SC. That doesn’t mean that we weren’t pleasantly surprised when you indicated that in 2008, Obama’s election was the result of a constitutionally protected process, fair and square. Again, we were surprised when you voted to confirm Justice Sotomayor and then Justice Kagan, even allowing Kagan, because of your informed questioning, to shine while undergoing her confirmation hearing. We also took interest in and rallied behind our shared concern for the minority vote; when we are liberals in South Carolina, and we never, year after year, make any impact on who the elected officials are, don’t we begin to question the democratic process? Don’t we begin to wonder if somehow the democratic process in South Carolina is rigged in favor of the Republicans or the Tea Partiers? Most recently, we were again surprised by your call for the GOP to change its position on gay marriage; we were humbled by your decision to join Gov. Haley in calling for the removal of the confederate flag after the ruthless murders in Charleston; and we were amused by your self-deprecating humor in the recent primary debate. Undoubtedly, of all the GOP candidates, Sen. Graham, you are our top pick. 

After the teacher/activist/hero Bree Newsome took down the flag, my nephews and I started an evening ritual of driving past the South Carolina State House to show our support for the protestors, few as they may have been, maintaining a presence and a visibility and a voice for the movement. Jay, 9, would pump his fist and imitate a yell voice, "take it down!" and Jor, 10 almost 11, and more reserved, would observe the details. "Why would those people wave the confederate flag when it's already waving right there?"  After knowing the whole day that the House had approved the bill to take down the flag, the kids got in the car in the afternoon and said "no one at camp said anything about the flag." 

Last night, as we drove past the flag for the last time, we discussed whether we should attend the taking down of the flag this morning. Jay, determined in his identity as a protestor, but not entirely sure of his identity as biracial and "African American" (Are you African American, too, Eesa?), said absolutely. We have to see this moment. Whereas Jor, echoing what he said about the July 4th rally, replied, "I have to say I'm a little worried and uncomfortable. What if confederate flag fliers come to the event with guns and start shooting people? I think I'd rather stay home." Jay, shocked by this response, said, "come on. No one would shoot a kid!" Jor, cynical and wise, responded, "I wouldn't be so sure."