I am heartbroken. Crushed to the core. Bones are heavy with
sorrow. Soul weighed down with fear. This election was a weird one, emotionally
and spiritually. The manner in which Trump continues to talk about women brings
flashbacks to my experience of sexual assault- feeling so small and
insignificant and out of control. Spiritually, I hurt for the way in which the
Church is grossly divided and I really can’t align with it right now. The way
fear spread like wildfire was a smack in the face of what’s at the core of this
country. This is a somber reminder that America is built on racism, fear, and
discrimination. But I had such shinny hope that there was change happening!
Obama is in office! Gay marriage is legal! The working class have healthcare! We’re
making progress.
But also when I think of the heartbreak I experienced
watching video after video of young black boys and men being gunned down by
those sworn to protect us, I shouldn’t be surprised. Fear continues to plague
the streets of Chicago, the banks of Wall Street, and the hearts of those who
make the laws.
I confess that this election made me look at my personal
bias- I am much more a ‘woman-ist’ than feminist because I think women are way above
men. We deserve our time at the top! Let’s crush the patriarchy and then sit on
top of them, reviling in our victory and inflecting the pain and fear caused to
us women. Make those men pay. This is the most vexing bias, personally, because
I really don’t want to calm down or have equal power or be treated the same. I
want to be better, stronger, and more respected than men ever were! So I’m
working on this.
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| A giant tear to represent the fear and hurt of millions due to the election of Donald Trump |
Additionally, I am just now learning of the full scope of
intersectionality and how it affects millions of Americans in subtle yet very
calculated ways. I am privileged to be a white, cis, able-bodied,
non-convicted, Christian, educated, middle class woman with a passport from the
USA. There’s no questioning what it means to be black and a woman, a woman with
a disability, or a woman waiting for a green card. My personal experience of
intersectionality is non-existent and as I listen to others’ stories- those of
my friends’ or on podcasts- I felt burdened by this privilege to move, to act,
to make sure the black trans woman is no longer the individual facing the
highest about of domestic abuse, that the Mexican day laborer is making high
enough wages to feed his family, and the young Muslim immigrant has affordable
health care. And while I feel sympathy, I cannot personality empathize with a
family fleeing from guerrilla warfare in Columbia who’s terrified if they will
be deported. I am not afraid to leave my house and see racial slurs written on my car or have a cafeteria of children chant ‘build a wall’ as I sit and eat my
lunch. Yet this is the reality that we’re created.
This loss is partly my fault. I didn’t share enough
podcasts, post enough articles, or engage in tough, painful conversations. I
shied away from meaningful discussions with my parents and relatives because I
didn’t want to shake any feathers or make people uncomfortable. I didn’t ask
friends outside of those who share the same worldview as me who they were
voting for. I didn’t do my part and I’ve let immigrants, blacks, Mexicans,
refugees, LGBTQ+, women, single mothers, disabled individuals, and all others’
sidelined by society down. Oh and this hurts- to know I didn’t fight as hard as
I could have.
But I’m ready to act now. I have enough understanding that
even if every person in my family voted for HRC, the outcome remains the same.
This striking divide is rooted in the history of America- in the voter suppression, forced eugenics movement, and felon discrimination. So what’s
there to do? Lots. Just so much.
First, start getting to know those you fear most. Tutor
someone learning English, learn how to cook from a newly resettled refugee, volunteer
to mentor a young student, share your talent of art, sports, cooking, reading
with a local after school program, a school/work collection for food, winter
coats, or furniture to donate to a refugee family, visit or donate to the North
Dakota pipeline protest, or visit a place of worship that’s different that
yours.
Educate yourself! Knowledge is power! Read Between the Worldand Me, Americanah, The New Jim Crow or Why Are All the Black Kids SittingTogether in the Cafeteria. Listen to podcasts. Write your senators and lobby
for causes you care about. I will remember this feeling of hopelessness,
confusion and hurt and allow it to propel me forward. Grapple with the reality that America was
built on systematic discrimination, dehumanization, and suppression AND that
America exists and thrives even today. I’m still learning. Oh I have so much to
learn. And in the midst of this learning and continued fight, I expect to
uncover women of the past who’s stories will propel me forward.
