Tuesday night was hard for me. I didn't just resign myself to Hillary Clinton. I actively liked her. I respected her past activism and the sacrifices she made for a husband who likely did not deserve her. I decried the sexist undertones and double standards that constantly impeded her path. I admired her debate performance. And, as somebody who is very introverted, I sympathized with her "likability" issues while noting that she was roundly loved by those who knew her personally. I read many of her emails and felt even more that she was a cautious thoughtful person, who probably overthought everything. But one who surrounded herself by experts and worked hard to nuance out the tough details. She was a pragmatist like me, in a world increasingly taken by shouting and twitterese soundbytes and simplifications. Was she pure and clean? No. There were some ick in her past and life. But politics is dirty and people are impure. And she was judged so much more harshly for each chink in her armor that perhaps I obstreperously denied her weaker points. And I felt they could be handled.
I was uneasy going into the evening, but starting to feel a little confident. Even allowing myself some excitement at the prospect of my daughter growing up with a female president. The most qualified person to ever run for office, more importantly. I dreaded the misogyny that would swell up with it. I was weary already of the likely nonstop impeachment proceedings. But I was ready for that fight. And ready to hold her feet to the fire. Ready to rebuild our scattered primary process and reform the party.
But that wasn't meant to be. As results came in, my heart sank. And then sank some more. And then even more. I didn't understand exactly why, but I felt sick. Despite having a cold and being more than ready to crash, I did not sleep. I cried. I cried a lot.
This wasn't like when George Bush won. I was disappointed then. I was freshly exposed to the oddities of the Electoral College. I had misgivings, but it wasn't the same. It was politics. And politics don't always go my way. This was something entirely different.
It's a petty simile, but I felt like I'd just been dumped. It was like being in a troubled relationship and knowing there was a lot of work to do, but having fully committed to some truly difficult times ahead. And then just like that, having my world stripped from me. My identity. My expectations. My sense of all that was familiar suddenly becoming infinitely complicated and scary. Being stunned. Being angry. Desperately wanting to bargain and explain my way out of it. And barring that, to act out in a way that created at least a similarly deep scar that had been left from this result.
I joked. I raged. I cried again. I felt a strong and eerie sense of freedom and impetus. I stress-binged on an entire bag of carrots, several M&Ms and a pot of coffee. I had a frenetic energy... and then I got a new haircut and sang "I will survive."
And as the new reality slowly settles in, I emerge from my cloud, thoughts become more articulable. Some of these thoughts are taken from other places as I sorted out my feelings. Some are fresh. I am sure there will be more.
1. I'm just so sad that my daughter will grow up in a world where a man who admits to sexually assaulting women - who then responds to accusations of the same by smearing their physical attractiveness as beneath assault - is given a free pass. A world where he is repeatedly praised as "honest" while his accusers are attacked and marginalized. I don't want her to see that part of the world. I don't want her to grow up with the realization that she will be strong and yet still face setbacks because of her gender. I don't want her to have to come to terms with the fact that she will be treated like a lesser being or an object by the men in power. And that she will have to tolerate it sometimes for fear of repercussion. That if she tolerates it, she will be blamed. But if she doesn't, she will be penalized.
That she will have to behave in certain ways to avoid consequences that range from resentment to assault. That she will risk censure for pushing too hard, even as she will be pushed to push harder. I want her to grow up always sure that her body is her own and it is not her fault if that is taken from her. I want her to have faith that if she is violated in ways big or small, that society will be outraged and that there will be consequences. I do not want her to be afraid of speaking out against those who harm her.
I grew up in a shifting time. A time where consent was discussed, but also a time where men were still painted as sexual aggressors and that this was normal. That this was out of their control even. We understood the idea of "date rape". But at the same time we were also encouraged to be sex-positive. As feminists, we too could and maybe should want and enjoy sex. We should fight the narrative of sexually crazed men. We were warned of dangers but not of how complicated sexual aggression can be.
Too often I allowed men to cross lines because I knew they were good people, and felt that good people wouldn't do something as bad as what sexual aggression had been painted to be. I didn't want to make the situation uncomfortable by standing up. I normalized things. I went numb and hoped it would go away. I felt guilty for not being able to reciprocate a real desire, embarrassed that I was less sexually adventurous, and often feeling guilty of leading these men, these friends, on by not being firmer. And in time I learned to avoid situations where that occurred. Sometimes at the cost of friendship.
I once found myself isolated with a man much larger than me. He was persistent, although I tried to politely decline his conversation. I even tried to slip away in a public space. It didn't work, and I felt trapped. He bought me a coffee and asked me how come I was so fat if I didn't eat meat. I allowed us to drift into an isolated area of town. I knew I had no more control and yet my brain continued trying to normalize the situation. In the moment I told myself he was an annoyance. One who wouldn't go away, but just another clueless man who thought too highly of himself. I felt alone. And I knew the power imbalance, but it wasn't until it was over that I really recognized the full terror of the situation. I bargained more or less. I said a lot to him. I talked my way out of a lot. But what influenced him most seemed to be that I had a boyfriend (untrue), and I was a virgin (true). I let him kiss me because I was afraid of what might happen if I didn't. In the end we parted ways, while he essentially congratulated himself for not having done "what other men would have done." In other words I was not a rape victim. That was supposed to be a victory. But that victory was by his choice and we both knew it. He said it as if to emphasize how much he liked me. He asked for my email address. I gave my spam one to him and later simply discarded the message from him.
Almost every single woman I know has a story or ten like this, and many have much worse stories. We don't talk about it much because we're embarrassed. Strong women, so the story goes, don't let themselves become victims. So many woman I love and respect have implied oh overtly said as much. Women who are victimized are and become defective. And we don't want our families to feel hurt. Even in our generation. I still think about these things when I go out. I watch my drinks. I'm careful who I talk with. I don't usually go out alone. I scan streets and crowds for potential allies and potential aggressors. I'll teach Chaya to do the same. To watch how she acts, where she goes, and what she wears. And it makes me angry that I have to. It makes me angry that men are still excused and given lighter censure than the women who accuse them. That when I'm with even men I love, I sometimes think about how I would struggle against them given the strength imbalance.
That is not something I want for my child. To be the aggressor, also simultaneously hurt and guilty and angry and unclear on the concept of another individual's dignity, is not something I want for my nephews.
And now I understand so much more that I don't yet know how to teach consent to my daughter. Or how to teach her that it is ok and safe to be something other than heterosexual and cisgendered. I don't know what to tell her when a woman cannot become president for all the double standards that I still see working in the world. I don't know what to tell her when a man who has openly torn down all those who are less powerful than him can become "the most powerful man in America". When that is accepted by the quarter of Americans who voted for him.
2. Fear is a natural evolutionary response, but do not let it pull you into the mire. Hate can only be fought by love. Despair only with hope.
This has been such a polarized election. We are each living with our own bubbles and facts, and our brains are bending over backwards to justify our choices. I truly believe that many people have simply lacked the exposure that would give them an insight into what so many Americans woke up to on Tuesday. I think they truly believe it was "just talk" and they don't understand the visceral fear of losing everything. And there is a lot of hurt at the implication that they are racist etc. because in their heads there is such an absolute and despicable Manichean distinction between bigoted and not-bigoted. I really do not know how to break through that.
I do not know how to reach out now. I don't know how to help others understand. I don't even fully understand the depth of the pain and anxiety these results have causes. I'm a very insulated white cisgendered hetero woman in the middle-class. All I can do is offer my love and my pledge to fight for everything that these people are. And for the beauty and strength they bring to this world. And I know that isn't enough. I want so much to do something even close to enough for you and every one now. This country is hurting in so many ways. I am so, so sorry.
3. I'd just like to emphasize to those who are Trump supporters. When I share things like this, I am not saying *you* are racist/sexist or hateful. I know you too well to believe that. But I am pointing to an increase in this behavior, and very real fear and distress in the lives of many Americans since the election results came out. And to a contingent of the American populace who has become emboldened by Trump's candidacy. And stating that I believe we as Americans have an obligation to intervene and make the statement that we do not support this behavior. I wish I could share my experience with you and vice versa. I genuinely want to come to a place of mutual understanding of both the fears and passions that motivate us. I admit I've spent this entire election cycle trying to "empathize with the Trump supporter" to the point of exhaustion. I think very highly of my conservative relatives although I disagree with them. And I think nothing is gained from slinging insults. I'm glad to feel that I live in a community that feels the same. Perhaps that's my own self-selecting bubble, but if so I'm happy it includes people who can disagree and still love each other.
To those who believe that Trump will not act on the comments he has made... To those (white people mostly) who believe the fears that are awakened by this result are exaggerated and misplaced: I appreciate your feelings and know you believe this wholeheartedly. Honestly, I don't know what will come. Trump has said and done so many contradictory things that the man is a human Rorschacht test. He has also previously been pro-choice and I'm sure has funded a few abortions, but I believe and I'm sure most who voted for him believe he now will follow through on his pledge to end Roe v Wade. So it's hard - or perhaps too easy - to cherry pick "what he'll do and what he'll be like."
What I do know, however, hurts my heart. During his campaign perhaps he was merely irresponsible playing with some pretty dark sentiments. He "joked" in a way that certain of his supporters took seriously and he emboldened several fringe elements to become far more prominent by being slow to repudiate them or their message. And I've seen him use what we'd call gaslighting to mock and belittle those who have claimed he's hurt them. This is a model.
And what I know now and what makes me sad is that since his election, there has been an increase in hateful language and behavior directed at those least empowered. The KKK is having a victory parade. People of all nationalities are being told that America doesn't care about the fear they've held and the increased hostility they've faced. A local Muslim family had feces smeared on their house. Other local children of people I know have come home in tears being told they'll be sent away because they're brown skinned. I have gay friends in rural areas who have been threatened, or whose children have been told they will be taken away from their parents. So many low income friends are fearing they will lose their healthcare insurance. Women are having their hijabs torn off of them in public. Some of my friends who are sexual assault survivors feel like the country just told them that their experience didn't matter and like they've been abused again. It may be a small contingent of Trump supporters, but it is a dangerous one that has gotten/taken a certain message. And I do think Trump will probably go at least as far as making policy choices that make it easier to act on these impulses. Not from malice or intent, but indifference.
And now I see that protests are also turning violent and this breaks my heart as well. And our country has its own history of some ugly moments (not with ill will, but generally from fear and overreach coming from vigilence). I think less of NAZI Germany than our own Japanese Interment during WW2. Or the way Americans were tormented during The Red Scare and McCarthyism. That's the America that Trump evoked on the trail, that "golden era." Or any other of our scads of violent instances. And I do not know what will happen, but I will be praying deeply that we all, especially those of us who are insulated from the immediate effects can make an impact.
4. I'm a Christian, albeit a liberal one who does not align with evangelicism that aligned with Trump. Jesus chose to die for us sinners. He embraced those whose intentions were most hostile to him. How can we, given this, demonize an entire faith/ethnicity for fear that one in a million of these people (and really the percentage is exponentially tinier) may mean us harm? Jesus cast out the moneylenders from his church and embraced the lowliest of society. How can any of us who claim the faith do otherwise? To those who supported Trump for reasons of faith and pro-life, I hope to see you on the frontlines protecting the most vulnerable.
5. Forty-six percent of eligible voters did not vote. If you're unhappy with the results, here's where we start. People aren't voting not because they don't care. Yeah some didn't like their options, but so many more faced absurd barriers. There are states where voting requires losing a day of work and waiting in line in bad conditions for hours, It's getting harder with shorter hours and more harassment. And the states where voting rights are most in peril are the places where many who are impacted have the most to lose and the fewest resources to make an informed vote. It starts with local politics and unsexy districting issues, to primary structures, to midterm elections, and goes straight up to that electoral college. I don't know how to make that better, but it's on us to address it.
6. Hillary Clinton won the popular vote. And the electoral college was close. Very close. If not for any number of things - WikiLeaks, Comey's FBI leaks and Anthony Weiner's weiner, the DNC's treatment of Sanders and his followers, marginally better minority engagement in key states - this election would have an entirely different narrative. But it doesn't. And that sucks, but the petition to engage Faithless Electors is one that only threatens to shake the already shoddy foundations of our democratic system. The primaries laid bare some very unsavory truths about our ridiculous electoral system. If we the people want to move forward, something needs to be done. The Democrats have an opportunity to clean house. To reboot. And to start fresh. But I fear instead we'll be mired in finger pointing and internecine histrionics. I am praying that instead of resentments and hostile hindsight, we can move forward.
7. There is some bitterness for me in all of this. The GOP declared that Obama would be a one-term president. They obstructed him every step of the way, including in areas where their constituents might have benefitted. They shut down the government repeatedly. They played on racist undertones, while Obama hesitantly walked the line of being "too black" for a country that was patting itself on the back for ending racism with one election. They refused to even consider a Supreme Court justice in an unprecedented - and I believe unconstitutional - step. And then proclaimed they would reject any and all nominees from a President Clinton. And red states refused the government offerings that would have helped their poorest (and now angriest) citizens. they let people's lives get worse to capitalize on their hurt and anger. Obama tried to compromise and work together for an entire term, and it only made things harder. They cried foul when he gave up on trying so hard. They painted him as the hostile force. They repeatedly played chicken with American lives and livelihoods.
And they won. Or that's how it feels. They now have all three branches of government in hand. They may have been colonized by somebody who barely embodies conservative values, but each has made a bargain with the devil to gain power. I think it will come to clashes, but it still saddens and frustrates me.
Now Trump is reaching out across the aisle. Proposing some things that Obama had tried to do. Things that Democrats know will help. If they work with the Republicans, the credit will go to the President Elect. They will diminish their chances of winning back the White House. But if they obstruct, they become the thing they have decried.
Michelle Obama says "when they go low, we go high," but it's rather hard to continue that path when going low seems to be so effective.
But I hope that they do, nonetheless. I hope I can, nonetheless.
... BUT I wish that Obama hadn't been so civil about Merrick Garland. I wish that he had forced the issue. I wish that this made it to the Supreme Court. I wish instead of trying to model good behavior and shame the shameless, he had fought for that one.
8. As much as I'm heartened to see the activism and enthusiasm of all the people around me, I feel like we're already in a blue, blue State. Washington will do everything it can to preserve health care for the needy (we already have). We'll invest in the future. In roads. We'll raise the minimum wage. We'll pass anti-discrimination laws and protect women's health. We'll approve levies for public services. People will be hurt and there will be hate crimes, but Washington will prosecute those. It won't be as bad as elsewhere.
I sometimes think the real problem isn't the electoral college per se, but the fact that wealth, education, and diversity gravitates towards the coasts. The people in the middle have a louder voice in the electoral system right now. Minorities are clustered in states where their vote has less influence. Clinton won California by even huger margins than Obama did. She received more votes than any presidential candidate in history other than Obama.
And that makes no difference in a winner take all college. Wealth and diversity usually mean liberalism. Higher educations. More investment in common goods and services. A higher quality of life, but also a higher cost of living. While conservatism in the middle states allows more and more people to slip through the cracks. These people are losing to a global economy that continues to make them more and more superfluous. They lack exposure to the diversity that all studies have shown to decrease racism and xenophobic attitudes. I don't mean to be condescending, but we truly have carved out two entirely different worlds by coring out the middle.
And it will continue to get worse. We can run up deficits "creating jobs" in the short term, but frankly, most jobs are not ever coming back. Not really. Technology is rushing to make human labor increasingly obsolete and the blue collar workers feel it first and hardest.
And they want change. They will continue to want change. Sometimes that will swing in favor of the democrats. Sometimes that will swing in favor of the Republicans. But I suspect they'll always be disappointed in the long run.
So instead of wringing our happy liberal hands about the electoral college, maybe if we really wanted to make a difference we'd all move there. Or wealthy tech magnates would build there instead of crowded out San Francisco. It would bring increased services and funding. It would bring more educational opportunities. More exposure to diversity. And jobs. It would piss off a lot of people, because gentrification is cultural colonialism, but it would bring exposure. nd it would bring jobs. Not the old jobs, but newer ones that bring people out. Will it help the voters with the loudest voices and the biggest problems? Maybe not. I don't know. But this may already be starting, as even the reddest states are beginning to have very liberal urban areas.
if you want your voice to matter, you have to live somewhere that right now sucks to live in if you're liberal. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
9. In the words of Stephen Colbert, I am a sexy kitty. And if you don't get that joke, that's life. There's going to be a lot of things we don't get in the next little time.
10. In the midst of this, my fourteen month old daughter made a breakthrough. After several months of flirting with a few steps here or there, she just clicked with walking. Nay, running. For the last few weeks, she'd run across the bed or sofa, but only take a step or two on the floor.
On Wednesday afternoon, I propped her up by the bed to change, and suddenly she'd bridged the gap and was back at my legs (ripping at my pant leg and giggling). On Thursday, she suddenly ran past me in the kitchen and kept circling the kitchen island shrieking and giggling and getting back up when she fell down. On Friday, she walked up the stairs with the help of the banister. In between she's been a holy terror of temper tantrums and messy sleep. But in the moment, it is the purest essence of human will and discovery. It reminds me how complicated walking can be. It reminds me of how long and arduous and slow the process to learning and accomplishment can look. How many setbacks there can be before suddenly everything clicks. And the unadulterated joy of life itself. The world is so full of love and discovery.
And things get better and they get worse. But they move on. And we move forward. And life, in all its messy horrific glory is a gift beyond words.
Baby steps... baby runs... and baby staggers. The world still can and will become a better place.
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