you, me, anyone with the American dream. |
Last November, I marched a 36 weeks pregnant, "Love Trumps Hate" clad belly into my local polling place and voted for a vision of our future which made me feel so buoyant and bright that when it did not come to fruition, in the wee hours of the following morning, I sat on the couch and cried. I cried for the little girl who dreamed of becoming the first woman president (yup), for the senate intern who ardently supported and admired candidate Clinton (MmHmm) and for the future mom who was going to bring a baby into a very different world than she'd envisioned. I felt crushed and baffled and scared, not only because my candidate had lost, but because America wasn't who I thought it was. My liberal, northeastern corner of the country had blinded me to a level of sexism, racism, chauvinism, anger and hatred that made my heart hurt. Who were these millions of people that believed in such a different vision for the future than me?
In the 11 months since Election Day, I've come to realize that being a woman, being Jewish, being a friend of minorities and immigrants and homosexuals and in favor of health care for all and the integrity of democracy mean something different than they did this time last year. I've watched free speech come under attack and nuclear war start to feel like a real possibility. It has taken over everything from the news to the football field, it's marching through the streets and across my social media feeds. It feels relentless. It's exhausting and scary.
I don't have any solutions, I don't know what we're supposed to do, but I know what I believe. I know that moments like this in history have called for action and activism not silence and sadness. So I will speak up. donate. stay educated. make phone calls. sign petitions. act in defense of my ideals. campaign. VOTE. This is where we are, but it is not where we will always be. I am ready for the fight.