The image before us is not just a relic of history; it is a chilling reminder of what happens when dignity and conscience are obliterated. It catalogs the systematic dehumanization of individuals based on their identities, behaviors, and beliefs.
Jews, dissidents, homosexuals, emigrants, and those deemed “asocial” were reduced to symbols — invisible to the moral conscience of their persecutors. And yet, here I stand, in 2025, grappling with the weight of these historical injustices while recognizing their echoes in our current world.
The fight for dignity and human rights is not an abstract battle fought in courts or legislatures; it’s a deeply personal struggle — a struggle I have lived.
In 1986, I came out as a lesbian in Germany, a country still reeling from its historical oppression, where remnants of patriarchal laws like §174a StGB, the German criminal code, still cast shadows on queer existence. It was only removed in 1994. When I came out, it wasn’t clear whether these laws applied to women, but their mere presence served as a chilling reminder of how easily dignity could be stripped away.
As women, we were de facto “owned” first by our fathers, then by our husbands. The development of women’s rights and their autonomy was a long process shaped by numerous reforms and social movements in every society. The idea of women loving women was considered laughable and incomprehensible when that paragraph was established in 1871 during the time of the German empire.
I faced the same fundamental question then that I face now: Will I honor my inner truth, or will I succumb to the external expectations and norms imposed upon me?
At every critical juncture of my life, my conscience has guided me to choose authenticity over conformity.
Even when the world around me demanded I be silent, I found the courage to say, “This is who I am.”
And the path to this courage has been anything but linear. Like many others, I have faced trauma that severed me from my sense of self. Trauma convinces you that survival necessitates silence — that your dignity is a luxury you cannot afford.
I spent years disconnected from my own conscience, functioning in a world that saw me as an “imposition” and a “disgrace.” And yet, through the fog of toxic shame, there was a quiet voice — my conscience — urging me to reclaim my dignity.
In January 2021, I reached another turning point.
After decades of feeling estranged from my own body, I finally came out as non-binary. This realization marked a pivotal moment, as I grappled with the questions of whether, when, and how to share my truth with others. Society had long perpetuated the notion that people like me — those who defy the binary and live authentically — are invisible, as if we do not exist. just like lesbians, by the way. They said to me, of course you can live your truth, yet why, oh why do you have to tell us about it. Everything I have been taught said, “You must conform.”
And yet, my conscience whispered, “You must not betray yourself.”
Conscience is not a static moral compass handed down by external authorities. It is dynamic, personal, and deeply tied to our sense of dignity.
For me, dignity is not something bestowed by others; it is intrinsic. It is the quiet assurance that my worth is not contingent on my productivity, my conformity, or my ability to please others. It is a birthright that no law, no policy, no hateful rhetoric can take away.
This understanding of dignity has been hard-won.
I grew up in a society that conflated worth with obedience. Authority figures — presidents, pastors, parents — taught us what was “true” and “right,” passing down unexamined beliefs and values. For years, I accepted these truths without question.
And as I began to peel back the layers of social conditioning, I realized that much of what I had been taught was not aligned with my inner sense of justice and humanity.
It is this same misalignment that I see in the political landscape today.
Leaders who dehumanize others, who strip women and transgender individuals of their bodily autonomy, who legislate against love and authenticity — these are not leaders acting from conscience. They are perpetuating the same patterns of othering and stigmatization that have fueled atrocities throughout history. They use the language of “protection” to justify oppression, claiming to safeguard society from those they deem impure or deviant.
But make no mistake: this is not protection. This is degradation, dehumanization, and a direct assault on dignity.
I have walked this path of self-discovery and authenticity and I know the cost of living a lie. I have faced the fear of rejection, the uncertainty of stepping into the unknown, and the pain of shedding identities imposed upon me by others.
In January 2025, I made a public declaration of my truth, sharing a video in which I laid bare my struggles and my resilience. I had lost everything I thought defined me, only to realize that what I had truly lost were the expectations and beliefs others had imposed on me.
What remained was my life — my authentic self — finally unburdened.
This journey has taught me that dignity is not just a personal endeavor; it is a collective responsibility.
In a world where people are stripped of their rights and humanity, we must ask ourselves: Can we, in good conscience, support leaders who deny the existence of others?
Before you dehumanize your son, daughter, or trans kind, your neighbor or friend, ask yourself: Can I align myself with policies that inflict harm on women, queer individuals, and marginalized communities, or yourself?
Can I look in the mirror and claim to honor dignity while complicit in its erosion?
My answer is no.
I cannot and will not support those who strip others of their humanity.
I call on everyone — especially those in the United States who just cast their vote and those in my home country, Germany, preparing to cast theirs in equally crucial elections — to examine their conscience.
Can I, in good conscience, support leaders who deny the rights of others to live authentically, to make decisions about their own bodies, to exist with dignity?
Can I reconcile with my conscience the fact that the Constitution is being trampled upon, denying citizens their inherent and constitutionally guaranteed human rights?
Will you stand idly by, or will you stand up for the human rights of all? Do you have the conscience to act?
The stakes are high, not just for any person of a non-dominant population, but for the soul of our global society.
I have spent the past four years shedding the toxic beliefs that kept me from living fully. I fought hard with myself to not only regain my true self from exile but to finally be able to life my life in the authenticity and congruence my conscience asks me to.
I have embraced kindness, empathy, authenticity, and self-determination. These are not just personal values; they are the foundation of a just and humane society.
To protect democratic values and stand up when human and constitutional rights are under attack, we must act with courage and integrity. Let us honor our conscience and uphold the dignity of every human being. Let us reject the politics of hate and division, and instead, commit ourselves to unity and justice.
Let us choose leaders who reflect the best of who we are — leaders who recognize our shared humanity and act to protect it, not exploit it.
Dignity is inviolable.
It is the foundation of our democracy and our humanity. Let us never forget that, and let us rise to defend it.
Thank you for walking beside me on this journey.
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