When I planned out what I’d be writing during the month of November, I had a very different post planned for today. Last Friday, I wrote about how my daughters would get to live a huge chunk of their early lives with minority presidents – a black man, and a woman. I was so sure that would be the case. Everyone was, right?
Today, I feel raw. I’ve written a few things on Facebook. I’ve shared a few things on Facebook. I’m working on processing everything. I’m not sure where I’ll go with this blog, but you’re welcome to come with me.
This morning I told my girls, “Mommy and Daddy love you so much. We have some bad news. Hillary didn’t win, and she won’t be president.” I know it was a cop-out. I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words Donald Trump will be our president.
Instead, Alma had to draw the conclusion herself and said, “So Donald Trump is the president. Well, I don’t have to listen to him.”
Harriet said, “I have an idea. We can make a trap. Donald Trump is a bully.” The Trump Trap has been a big theme in our house for almost a year. Alma has come up with many plans about how to deal with the Trump Situation. None of her plans included the White House.
When Bush won his first term, it was my first time voting for the president. My friend and I wandered around campus in a daze. We didn’t know what to do, but we figured the best idea would be to move to Italy and do yoga on a rooftop. Since that wasn’t possible, we just walked.
Last night I just listened to Hamilton and wanted to quote it all on Facebook.
“Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you…”
“To the Union, to the revolution, to the hope that you provide!…”
“I remember that night I just might regret that night for the rest of my days…”
“History has its eyes on you…”
“The world turned upside down…”
“What comes next, you’ve been freed. Do you know how hard it is to lead? You’re on your own, awesome, wow. Do you have a clue what happens now? Oceans rise. Empires fall. It’s much harder when it’s all your call…”
“I’ll make the world safe and sound for you. We’ll bleed and fight for you. We’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation, we’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you. And you’ll blow us all away, someday, someday. Yeah, you’ll blow us all away, someday, someday…”
“‘Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,’ we fought for these ideals; we should settle for less…”
“There are moments that the words don’t reach, there is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can, and try to push away the unimaginable. The moments when you’re in so deep it feels easier to just swim down…”
“I hear wailing in the streets…”
“I stop wasting time on tears, I live another fifty years, it’s not enough… and when my time is up, have I done enough? Will they tell my story?”
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
I mean, we have to move on, right? We have to take this horrible moment and find the good in it, right?
We have to organize and fight and stand up and teach our children that our country matters. That the racists and misogynists don’t speak for us. That we are better. That our story is worthy of being told.