Some are raging. Some are crying. Some are stunned into silence.
For many of my friends, many of whom are white liberals, this election is a shock. Yes, I think the criticism that “we” as a group are wallowing in the feelings of helpless rage that people of color, queers, disabled people, and so many other minorities have had to deal with always is valid.
But on the other hand, I’ve spent more time in chat over the last two days with queer and/or disabled friends, and friend with queer and/or disabled children, and friends who PoC or are married to PoC or are parents to PoC, than I have in the past six months. My transgender friends are trying to figure out where to move that might be safer than where they are; my black female colleague at work is trying to figure out how she and her husband and children can move out of the South while raising three kids and getting her PhD and not going broke; I have two friends with debilitating chronic illnesses figuring out how to commit suicide when their insurance benefits are cut. My friends are parents of children who are being bullied and having their lives threatened for not being white, not being able-bodied, for being different.
It’s a 24/7 crisis line all up in here, and I’m so glad I can help my friends, if only to say, “hey, I hear you and I validate your feelings.”
Be me…I’m still numb. I’m teetering over anger into malaise, and that’s dangerous, I know. I’m deciding if this country, so filled with hate and anger and so lacking compassion, is worth fighting for. My first instinct is to say “hell no” but I also know that’s a knee jerk reaction. Hey, I was 13 when the ERA was allowed to die in 1982, I’ve been down this road of furious disappointment more than a few times.
And so I know that while it’s good to make plans, to have multiple approaches to the problem, it’s also important to allow time to process. Some people process via venting, others by organizing, and a few by withdrawing. I’m somewhere in between. As my friend Patricia exhorts to me, I’m a writer, it’s in my nature to pull back and observe and describe. Maybe that’s all I’ve got in me.
For now, though, I’m having a wine or two and enjoying my three day weekend and my loving dog’s attentions (there are no attentions, she’s chewing on a bully stick ewwwwww).
Check in later.
