I almost posted this yesterday. I almost deleted it five times.
I almost started it with a phrase like, “Okie doke, America, you wanted a non-politician? Congrats- you got one. Good luck landing that jet.”
But I didn’t. Because a) it would seem like sour grapes and b) mixing metaphors is borderline inexcusable. (Although the bar for “borderline inexcusable” has been set real, real low. Hey-o!)
No, but seriously, what the actual fuck.
No, I didn’t mean to write that. Okay, okay, you know what?
Here’s what I know.
Here’s what I actually know, in a “deep down in my heart” kinda way, and not at all in the “exit polls suggest” kinda way. (Because there is a difference. There’s…a difference.)
I know that people are good. The majority of people are inherently good, kind citizens. I’ve seen this. I know it.
I know that more than half of the votes in this country were voted the other way. However else you look at it, you have to acknowledge that we are a nation divided as hell.
I know that 100% of people are scared right now. Regardless of your candidate, you voted out of fear of change, perceived (or very, very real) threats, and a loss of the way of life you hold dear. (And if you’re saying to yourself that I’m wrong, that you’re not scared, then your immediate rights are in no danger of being taken away. That’s called privilege. Acknowledge it and go from there.)
I know that I’m writing Hillary Clinton a note. Because she shouldered a burden she shouldn’t have had to. She was judged on a very different playing field. And she took women farther along in this political process than any other female in history. And that deserves a goddamn note. (While I’m at it, I’ll probably write one to the Obamas as well. Because it’s downright embarrassing what this election came to after eight years of flawless, classy service.)
I know that the name-calling needs to stop. Because I also know that it’s simply not true that every Trump voter is a racist idiot, just in the same way that I know that not every Clinton voter is an establishment drone nor a brainless hippie.
That said, I know that this wasn’t a party defeat. It was a humanitarian defeat. And for those who voted against the rights of actual humans, I know that you’re on the wrong side of history. You just are. The progress train will keep chugging along and eventually leave you- clutching your “coloreds only” water fountain at the station.
I know that people always come together when they need to. This was never in question.
And I know that, regardless of president-elect, it was gonna be a lot of work. It was always gonna be a lot of work. People weren’t going to immediately and across the board start respecting women’s bodies, black people’s lives, the sanctity of all marriages, and environmental ramifications. (It sure would’ve been nice to not have to start quite this early and intensely but…it was always going to be work. So suit up.)
Here’s what I have to believe.
I have to believe that the folks who put Trump into office won’t be content with grenading the system and walking away. That they’ll actually show up for the positive change they want, too.
I have to believe that 95% of this election was reality show bombast. (And I’ll believe it sooner once Trump publicly denounces the KKK. So, like, anytime now.)
I have to believe that no one (or a tiny, tiny amount) of the population actually wants to see those nuke codes engaged. And that people in authority (and there are so, so many people in authority) will be doing their jobs.
I have to believe that a majority of people who voted against Muslims, people of color, gay people, or anyone else affected by the policies soon-to-come don’t actually know and love anyone in the aforementioned groups. I know that some people did vote against their own loved ones- but I have to believe that we can change how the former group views the “otherness” of the latter groups.
I have to believe that, despite the message their vote sent, that the Trump supporters I know would never be dismissive of a sexual assault on their loved ones.
I have to believe that they wouldn’t have turned my refugee grandfather and his family away at the door, thus canceling out my entire family. (This may be Pollyanna-esque optimism on my part, but I literally have to believe this or I’ll light something on fire. Which, I think we can all agree, unless it’s being done for actual heat measures, falls under that Not Helpful category.)
And here’s what I have to do.
I have to focus. No more scrolling Buzzfeed, sharing Facebook memes to a like-minded friend circle, no more floating in the liberal bubble of the internet. I’m not saying delete all social media because, like threats of moving to Canada, that reveals my privilege more than anything. (That’s the equivalent of sticking your fingers in your ears and saying “nananananacan’thearyou.” My friends of color can’t tune out their skin tones at traffic stops. My gay friends can’t ignore the gender of their partner and legal status of their family.) But I can unplug when needed (like…for maybe the next few days), focus on my family, my community, my city’s politics, and my activism.
I have to institute a zero tolerance policy for casual racism and sexism. You wanna talk grassroots on up? My kids will never- never– know any other way.
I have to ensure that Roe v. Wade never, ever gets overturned. (Conservative ladies? Now’s a great time to talk amongst yourselves. Find out who’s actually had that horrid fourth-term abortion (…?) and, once you realize it doesn’t actually exist, find ways to do the work in reducing abortion numbers. Prayer is great; listening to a community is better.)
I have to meet the old, white people who are proudly celebrating the greatness they’ve ushered in (and which will, frankly, affect them not in the slightest). And then I’ll talk to their grandkids.
I have to work. Starting immediately. It’s no longer enough to donate and forward emails. Because the truth of the matter is, the environment won’t save itself. (…Especially without funds, laws, or panels. OhmyGodyouguyswhydon’tyouwanttheenvironmenttonotdie?!)
I have to show up. I have to be a physical body representing all of the people who physically can’t show up.
I have to become a safe space, a loud voice, and a beacon of hope. Before you dismiss that as grandiosity, read the news. Female Muslim students have already been attacked at two universities; both in Louisiana and in California. (Think they’re enjoying America’s newfound greatness?)
And while it seems like this is me alternating between glibly saying it’ll be cool as long as we have Jesus in our hearts and can-do spirits in our hands or telling you to march against Voldemort, what I’m really reminding us to do is this:
Be good people. Be proactive people.
You’re awake now, ain’tcha?
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