Photo c/o Archer who took this photo of his sisters and me after we voted yesterday.
Proudly. And with love. For HER.
Proudly. And with love. For HER.
This morning, I woke up paralyzed. I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to talk to my kids about any of this. I couldn't breathe. I felt sick. "This is a funeral," I thought. "But instead of eulogizing the past I feel like I am eulogizing the future."
How does one keep hope alive for her children when she feels she is attending their future's funeral?
Then I got angry. At HIM and US and what we have ELECTED -- millions of millions of us -- to represent our nation. Really fucking angry.
Sorry, Trump. But I refuse to eulogize our future. This election is a BAT SYMBOL against the sky but we ARE Batman. And I must -- I MUST -- get up on my feet and rally my children to do the same.
This morning, I talked to Archer at length about what the results of this election will mean to his friends who are not white males like he is, specifically his POC and Muslim friends, immigrant friends and tween girls who will come of age under the presidency of a man who laughs off sexual assault... I told him to stand with them, to speak up for them, to fight, even if/when it feels dangerous. I told him that being an ally isn't enough -- you have to be an instigator.
I talked to my daughters about their Hillary posters and how much joy they gave so many in our neighborhood and we decided that this Friday, in the spirit of last Friday, we will make new posters... We will draw and we will write and we will reject hatred and fear. We will create a new future with our rainbow colors, we will support each other, we will open our house to friends and neighbors who would like to join us. We will visualize our new world. And then we will march, together, around the neighborhood with our words held high and our hope held higher. We will protest with love and art and music. And we won't stop...
This morning, after watching Hillary's speech, I dressed in purple. I spoke to my great aunt Dot, begged her for her guidance, called my friends and family members and cried with them. I cried with strangers on the street. I am crying now.
But this is just the beginning. This is the first day of a new era of fighting harder and standing stronger and rallying friends and family to do the same. I live in a progressive bubble and this election has forced me to acknowledge that I cannot comprehend what has happened because I will never wholly understand what is happening. And that is something I need to work on. Hard.
America, we are NOT better than this. We are THIS. And we have work to do. In and OUTSIDE of our communities.
In the meantime, I will parent with love and fire and fight, recognizing that I can have faith in humanity and be horrified by it all at once. I will use my voice and stay as positive as I possibly can for my children who have, through this entire election, been HRC's biggest fans -- and who like me, cannot fathom how their country went wrong. I will create what I can and provide the space and support for children and young people to do the same. I will buy more poster board.
***
This morning, on the way to school Fable said, "if kids were allowed to vote, Trump would have never in a million years been elected president. Maybe I'll write that on a poster."
"Good idea."
"What about you, Mama? What will your poster say?"
"I think it will say... THIS IS WHERE WE BEGIN."
"Good idea."
"What about you, Mama? What will your poster say?"
"I think it will say... THIS IS WHERE WE BEGIN."
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