I’ve been wishing I’d lose my voice again, been avoiding phone calls and text messages. I’ve been crying at lunch. I’ve been afraid of talking to my children. I’ve been afraid of anyone else talking to my children. I’ve been awake. I’ve been dreamless.I’ve been thinking about decaying coral reefs. I’ve been holding the hand of my older son, a baby in almost-a-man skin, and I’ve been wanting to apologize to him. I’ve been feeling like I shouldn’t have brought other people into a world like this. I’ve been thinking that the joy they bring me isn’t worth the fear they feel. It’s been bleak.
- The people who voted Donald aren’t necessarily bigots. They just value the issues that are important to them (taxes, oil fields, financial incentives, free access to guns, the goings on in other people’s uteruses) more than they value the actual safety and dignity of millions of other Americans. So maybe they *aren’t* racist or misogynist, but they sure as fuck are selfish.
- I’ve read a lot of, “we made a mistake by being too strong in our language about Donald leading in, and the kids are suffering because they are confused.” Nope. He demonstrated the values and words and actions of an actual bad human being and we got pissed. I don’t use those words lightly, you know that. He’s a bad person, a bully, and no matter how powerful he will be, we better keep on calling him on it–if we stopped now, if we act as though it’s actually no big deal, it’s all just fine now that he’s been elected–that would be dishonest and really jeopardize their trust in us. I’d rather have the kids be afraid than think being like him is okay if you’re powerful enough.
- There is work to do. NONE of the ‘issues’ matter if our kids don’t have air to breathe and water to drink.
I’ve heard I love you from so many people, I’ve said it to so many people, freely. I’ve been held, and I’ve held other people close. My friend Brandy was in town, and on Wednesday night we drank a bottle of wine and caught up and cried and avoided. This weekend my life will fill with more good adults, so my kids have faith, and believe what I’ve been telling them: that there are plenty of us, and we’ll take care of them. This evening, we are going to THIS. Wytold is playing and invited me to read a poem. We’ll see all of our family, my sisters who cover and my brothers whose dark hair and Arabic names must feel like a bull’s eye right now. My long-lashed nieces and nephews. We’ll have our friends over and we’ll love each other hard, and laugh and cry with equal commitment.
All I’ve been listening to is Wytold’s new album. It’s dreamy and dangerous and hopeful and magical and you should buy it on iTunes. It’s pretty much 100% what you need to be listening to.