On the Election: Take Two

To the Trump supporters, those who don’t think it matters that much, who don’t viscerally fear the outcome, think I’m melodramatic for feeling this way, this post is not for you. Go away. I don’t want your eye rolls, your derision, your inability to see that what happened last night is a travesty. If the result of this election hasn’t brought about a crisis of faith in you, I don’t want you here.  I am holding a funeral for the faith I had in this country and I need the support of fellow mourners.

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Last night, I sat on the floor of my living room and wept. I cried so hard that my husband asked if he needed to be worried about my personal safety. The thoughts and feelings are whirling in a deluge and I don’t know how to find the contentment I felt just yesterday while I was going about my day. I don’t know how to mesh my thoughts that people are basically good and kind and decent to the reality of a racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic president.

And because I can’t make words work – because they come pouring in fits and stops that I can’t string together to make sentences – I’m sharing some links. And I’ll keep adding to them to reference whenever I need hope.

As I look at the world and my children and wonder how to help them keep their joy and innocence despite my despair: This poem.

This playlist. Loud. (Remember blue collar Democrats? Yeah, I miss them.)

A post on kindess. Because we need more of that.

Lin-Manuel’s twitter feed. (I broke my social media ban and went to Twitter yesterday for tweets like his.)

Because I process all things while knitting and I have the pattern for this scarf (or stole) as member of her last year’s color ways club, I think I’ll have to pick it up. It’s intricate and a bit advanced for me. Meditation and peace seeking via knitting.

Words that say what I feel better than I ever could.

This post. Not just for our children, but for everyone who feels scared right now. We need to keep each other safe. We need to keep fighting against the hatred and anger.

A list of pro-women, pro-immigrant, pro-earth, anti-bigotry organizations that could use your support. (Thank you, Rita for pointing it out.)

And finally hope. Every bad thing I’ve ever said about millennials? I’m taking it back.

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For those of you still here, please know I’m grieving with you. I feel your pain, your loss, your confusion. You aren’t alone. We will get through this. Together. Even if we don’t know how. Even though the words sound trite and empty. We will get through this.

 

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  • What a powerful poem you linked to, Kate. It illustrates precisely my perception of the world, and speaks exactly to what I struggle most with as a parent.

    My only hope this morning is that Trump will come to the realisation that governing is not the same as campaigning. (In other words, that he cannot actually do many of the things he promised.) Only time will tell…

    Hugs to you, Kate.

    • Thank you, Marian. I do hope that many of the things he promised will not be able to come to fruition (it wouldn’t be the first time a President is stymied), but I what has rocked me to my core is the number of people who voted for a man who has used hatred and fear as his platform.

  • The poem + the kindness links make me feel a little better about this election. Good bones do kind things, eh? Perhaps a thought I need to hang on to while I process how this all happened.

    • It is SO hard to process, but I’m thankful for all of the friends – online and off – who are using the results of this election as galvanization to show even more kindness and love in the world. I’m still struggling but I’m more and more hopeful as the day goes on that love really will trump hate.

  • Tuesday was hard, and Wednesday was even harder. I cried, too. I was distraught before it was done, early on, when it was apparent it would be so close because I knew that regardless of how it ended, one truth was going to remain: So many, many, many of us chose that horrific human being. I thought I knew us. I was wrong. I knew I was wrong, regardless of who finally won.

    For me, this is galvanizing. Things have been pushing me in a direction for some time now, and I see where I need to go. I am too broken right now to put coherent words together, but I will later. Just know: You’re not alone in your feelings. That poem you linked to? Punch to the gut. The kind we all sometimes need. Your last line about hope? YES. They did not vote as my demographic–older, white women–did. I am so distraught that it was white women who delivered this man to us. My children and their friends–they are my hope.

    • I feel like so many people are thinking and writing these words, Rita. And I can’t tell you how much I need to hear them. I find it interesting that you used the word galvanized in your comment, because I’ve been finding myself thinking it and saying it a lot in the last 48 hours. The results ARE galvanizing. The results of this election say something I didn’t think could possibly be true, but now that I know it is, I can’t turn away. Tuesday and Wednesday, I felt despair and shock. But the sun still rose this morning and there are a lot of people out there who have a lot more to fear than me, and I feel like it’s an obligation to do whatever I can to listen to them and to help in anyway I can. So yes, galvanizing is a very, very good word. And I have no doubt that we are going to need that strength.