Friday morning, my breakfast was ruined when I became aware of numerous adults who mocked Tim Walz’s son, Gus, for his very emotional tribute to his Dad at the DNC.

Anne Coulter was one; other very public remarks came from Mike Crispi and Alec Lace (podcasters who promote “manhood”), Jay Weber, an I-Heart Milwaukee radio host, other prominent Republican figures and just regular folks on the right whose comments I read from tweets and social media posts. Anne called Gus “weird”, Crispi called him “stupid crying son” and “puffy beta male.” Lace said “get that kid a tampon already.” Weber said “he’s a blubbering b**** boy.”

What did Gus do to warrant such contempt? He cried in public, proclaimed “that’s my Dad” and was obviously full of love and pride for his Dad, Tim. Parents have been doing the same since parenthood became a thing and their child achieved a “moment” of their own. Maybe a home run, maybe a musical or dance recital or simply giving a small speech before a group of people.

Regardless, showing pride isn’t something that’s unmanly or unwomanly. Pride from parents towards their children is something we honor.

Why wouldn’t the same be said of a 17 year old boy directing that same type of pride and love toward his father? What if that same boy is special needs? Does that make the mockery okay? It does, at least among some people on the right side of the aisle. But then again, their leader did the same, very public thing a few years ago when he mocked a reporter with cerebral palsy.

Our daughter was born with special needs, but you wouldn’t know it to see her. Like Tim Walz’s son, our daughter looked like any other kid. Her disabilities weren’t obvious.

That’s probably why two adult women and a pre-teen boy made fun of her at a Kansas public pool one day when she was about 8 years old.

I sat and watched them laugh and point at her for the way she swam and came out of the water with her hair over her face. Apparently, these women thought my daughter was just hilarious. Before leaving the pool that day, I confronted them to say they had taught their young friend a lesson that it was okay to publicly make fun of others.

I didn’t know those women and they didn’t know me. But had they known me and my family, they most likely wouldn’t have behaved the way they did.

The media figures who made fun of Gus Walz don’t know him and probably wouldn’t have mocked him if they did. But does that matter? Do we need to actually know a person to love them or feel empathy for them, their hardships, their lives.

Does it matter if the person is a different color, different gender, different socioeconomic group, different religion, different nationality, disabled? Didn’t Jesus tell us to love God and love our neighbor as ourself. He didn’t say love those like you. His command is a blanket command.

Love! Period! And when asked “Who’s my neighbor?”, Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan, which is basically a parable about two strangers who, technically, were enemies.

But one (the Samaritan) took pity on the other when he was left for dead on the side of the road and took him to be cared for.

All who knew my daughter loved her, but what if they had never met her? Like the women at the pool, would they be willing to mock my daughter publicly if I or her dad were running for public office?

I have many questions about people’s hearts these days, and that’s what saddens me most. Nothing seems to matter as long as “my” candidate wins.

Anything goes, except it shouldn’t. We’ve become beat down and numb to the hate and disrespect that comes pouring out of keyboards all across the country.

But I sincerely believe we will not only give an account for our actions, we will give an account for our inactions. And that’s why I couldn’t sit back and say nothing after the mocking of Gus Walz. Because like Gus, my daughter deserved as much respect as anyone else, whether you knew her or not.

Heidi Stanley is a mother of three who lives in Gulf Shores.