Wednesday, November 9, 2016

the morning after

It's over. It's done. And I feel. I feel a lot of things. A whole lot of conflicting things.

I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed of what my country has done. I'm ashamed that a man who has been known for his racist, misogynistic, bigoted rhetoric for his entire campaign is now our president-elect. I'm ashamed that he was elected over a highly qualified woman. Yesterday, I cried multiple times. Tears of joy & gratitude and tears of absolute shock & deep sadness. I voted and was overwhelmed with the significance of it all. That I could be bringing my sweet baby into a world that has the first American woman president. What an honor that was. What an absolute honor. The beginning of the day felt hopeful.

And then after teaching, I checked my phone and there was the news, the numbers that no one expected.

I ate some pizza & some ice cream and wished more than anything around 10:00pm that Ryan & I could just go to a bar and share some whiskey. I feared for the stress I could bring upon my unborn baby from all of this. We finally turned the tv off last night and tried to distract ourselves with New Girl on the iPad, neither of us actually watching. I found myself aching for my husband, a man who has everything going for him - whiteness, a college education, a post college education, a secure job. My husband who gets up every morning before the sun to go teach math & science to kids, who tears up when he sees and hears that man tear down women and speak about them as if they are nothing but objects. My husband who loves me deeply and without restraint, without question. My husband who is ten times the man I see on tv. I ache for him and yet feel so much deep love & gratitude for him.

I miss Bernie. I miss President Obama already.

I feel embarrassed. I feel sad knowing that I have family that voted in a way I fundamentally disagree with. I don't know what to do with that. And yet, and yet, they are still worthy of being listened to. They are loved, they are complex, they did what they thought was the right thing. What I think is the most ridiculous choice, the most ridiculous option, is the choice that some people made based on their conscience.

I don't know what to do with that. 

I'm aching for my LGBTQ friends. I'm aching for my black friends, my Latino friends. For everyone who is feeling so very vulnerable & exposed & forgotten by their country. I'm scared we are going to go backwards.

I'm scared to have a president that denies climate change.

I'm mad that more millennials didn't vote.

Mostly I'm sad. Mostly I'm just sad.

I don't think this is right. I don't think anyone would say that this is right.

And yet. 

I'm relieved. Because it's done.
I'm happy we can move away from this conversation into a new one.

The sun came up this morning. It's actually a gorgeous day here in Northern California. It's kind of like the earth is saying, "Hey, hey, guess what. It's not over. It's okay."

I woke up and didn't listen to NPR like I do every other morning. I didn't look at the articles I normally would have.

I wrote a letter to Hillary this morning. I walked to the mailbox and sent it, walked around the block listening to a podcast about wisdom, breathed deep, and decided that I would lean into the goodness and the light.

Because, for my well-being, I can't nurture the hopelessness. I know that some people are finding some kind of solace or resolve in reading about what the next four years could look like. But, I don't. I can't.

I'm reminded that, despite how different this election feels than any other election in our lifetime, despite that, we will all be okay. Somehow. We've gotten through hard things before. Unscathed? No. Unharmed? No. Intact? Not always. But, right now, I have to trust in the goodness of people. The goodness of people on every side.

I have to trust that people know that love & kindness is still their responsibility.

Taking care of the earth is still up to us.

Taking care of each other is still up to us.

This is all real and this is all scary. But, had the outcome been the other way, guaranteed there would be people on the other side that would be feeling the exact same way. 

We have a lot of work to do.
We have a lot of loving to do.

Red or blue, or whatever freakin color libertarian is, you & I are still going to be here.

Even though the Canadian immigration website crashed, no one is really going anywhere. Escaping to Nova Scotia or staying put in a country in which you feel completely displaced, we are still going at this together.

Angry, embarrassed, ashamed, relieved, sad, grieved, happy, mourning.
All of it.
All of it is all of us. 

1 comment:

  1. dang. this hits the sadness and fear that a person feels about having trump as president, but then reintroduces hope and love in a way that helps you to remember that we need to move forward. The sun is still rising.

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