“I pray for justice for every person unfairly denied a safe place to live. I pray for Congress to care, and for you, America, to care.”

Dear America,

I’ve never really been a daily prayer kind of person. But in this past year, I’ve been praying every night for a family I’ve never met. 

In the wake of the civil rights movement, Congress’s promise to those who had been unfairly denied housing was simple: the government will hear you, and if investigators find discrimination, a government attorney will take this to court on your behalf.

For every single complaint that’s filed, HUD has to gather the evidence to answer: Was this person discriminated against because of the color of their skin, because of their gender, because they have a disability, because they have children, because of who they love, or because they dared to survive domestic violence? Was this person physically hurt, did they lose their home, did they lose everything because of the discrimination? 

In the case that keeps me up at night, all the answers were an undeniable yes. And as a result, a person nearly lost their life. A family’s life is changed forever. 

But this case is not special. You’ve seen the news about investigators and attorneys being fired, reassigned, or harassed until they quit. You’ve heard about the gag orders, bans on investigators talking to their attorneys, and political approval needed for every step. You’ve seen HUD’s own posts bragging about how they banned using any language other than English to investigate cases, even in places where every party, witness, and local government communicates in a different official language. 

There will forever be a new hoop to jump through. Even if every investigator, attorney, and political appointee agree that your tax dollars are being used to fund discrimination in a way that aligns with “administration priorities,” the culprit may never be held accountable. 

People have been fired for whistleblowing. Others have been fired for asking too many questions. Those who stay must fall in line and stay quiet. Be strategic and try to save one protected class at the expense of all others. Make sure the political appointees know they can trust you. Make sure the decisionmakers never have to face the harm they’re causing.

Every night, I pray for this family to be safe. For the HUD secretary that injects religion into every sentence to have his come to Jesus moment. I pray for justice for every person unfairly denied a safe place to live. I pray for Congress to care, and for you, America, to care.

For my part, I promise you that I will not stop asking questions. I will not be silent. I will not be complicit.

Sincerely, 

—a Christian, a survivor, a person who took an oath