Onward and Forward

I originally drafted much of this on November 9 — the day after the 2016 presidential election. I finish it tonight—January 10, 2017—following President Obama’s farewell address.

I want to quit, I do. But I won’t. Instead, I’m going to write. But I’m going to write carefully and thoughtfully. I’m going to draft it, edit it, re-read it, let it sit, read it again. Maybe I’ll share it with the world, maybe I won’t. But I need an escape, my heart is heavy, and my head is a jumbled mess… so I’m going to write.

Donald Trump was named president-elect to the United States  of America in the wee hours of the morning. I’m with her… was with her. I wasn’t always with her, but I was never with him.

The range of emotions I’m feeling includes sadness, shock, deflation, worry, angst, and uncertainty.

I had a vision of celebrating the first woman president with my three young daughters this morning. To say to them, “You can be anything you want in this world!” and know—finally—that it was the truth. To see the glass ceiling shattered forever… to quietly reflect over coffee that the presidency during my daughters’ childhoods did not have a white male at the helm.

Now, let me pause right there. I’m white. I like white men. No objections to white men. I have even—wait for it—voted for white men previously (a somewhat “Captain Obvious” statement I realize).  Now, go ahead and laugh, that is supposed to be funny.

But seriously, how cool would it be after 43 straight white dudes (I meant “straight” as consecutive, but now I simply cannot correct that play on words) to have a black president followed by a woman president? Progressive, right?

Okay, let me pause again and begin to defend every word I write.

No, I wouldn’t vote based solely on genitalia or chromosome. I’m an issues gal. The whole morning coffee with my daughters thing was just a DreamWorks motion picture playing in my head. Nix that… cutting room floor material now.

So I’ve struggled. No… I’m struggling.

I’m struggling with the continued vitriol. I’ve hurt by the name calling, genuine disrespect, and overall lack of civility—that I’ve received and that I’ve seen others receive—on both sides quite frankly, for being passionate.

I’ve had to take some time to consider how 1) I might be assuming the worst of others and, perhaps more humbling, 2) how others might be assuming the worst about me. This lesson between intent and impact is one we simply must learn—as a country, yes, but perhaps more so as humanity.

While I don’t think anyone cares what I think, hell no one really reads this blog anyway, I feel the need to make clear a few things about ME. I cannot and do not speak for you. I cannot and do not speak for others. I’m speaking for me, myself, and I.

I do not think Hillary is perfect or without flaw. I do not agree with her every view. I do not represent all Hillary supporters, the Pantsuit Nation, or the Village. I represent me.

I know you do not represent all Trump supporters. I also assume that you do not think Trump is perfect or without flaw. I assume you do not agree with his every view. I assume you may not appreciate being likened to a deplorable. I do, however, hope that you found at least some of his rhetoric and behavior to be, at minimum, concerning for a person who is expected to be the leader of the free world. I also assume you might expect the same of me with regard to Hillary.

This is what I will offer… perhaps we see things differently. Perhaps we disagree. Perhaps that which we think will make America great again is drastically different from each other. It certainly seems to be the case.

So I voted.

I voted because it is my civic obligation, responsibility, right, and privilege. I voted because it is my responsibility to my children and future generations. I voted because I believe that my opinions, beliefs, ideas, and views matter… that my voice and my vote matters!

And… I voted for Hillary. By default I voted for the Democratic Party, but that was secondary. I’ve always voted for a person, not a party. My party affiliation is far weaker than my desire for servant leaders to have integrity, charisma, tact, and emotional intelligence.

I do not vote for perfection… or I’d never vote.

Admittedly, it is terribly hard—nearly impossible, but damn I am trying—to understand the affinity for Trump. I’m all for wide-open, say what you think, and throw it all out there with candid authenticity… but I think it is important to note that this freedom isn’t enjoyed the same by all. What we can do and what we should do—well, those are very different things. And, for the love of all that is good in the world… can we not be candid and real with kindness, respect, a measured purpose, sincere intentionality beyond mere shock-value, and accurate information?

I don’t understand the man (Trump). So, yes, I’ve struggled with those who support him. It is hard for me to comprehend how you can choose to ignore some of his most shocking words and actions.  These are not accusations or allegations. They are not unknowns or assumptions. They are actual words spoken and acts committed.

In many ways, his words were heard and received as threats should he win. And he did. So now I’m struggling. So many people, myself included, are just plain scared of the future. I don’t think instilling fear is a worthwhile leadership value.

But you have the right to decide what is important to you… and, for many it would certainly seem, it was about the economy and jobs, healthcare, and taxes. You need something to shift in your world, so you threw a hail Mary. Perhaps it isn’t that you don’t care, you just have a different sphere of influence,a different set of circumstances, and different priorities.

Maybe you can’t worry about race relations because you have medical bills you cannot afford. (Are you white?) Maybe you don’t worry about marriage equality for others because you are unemployed and need to provide for your own family (Are you heterosexual?).

I get it… completely logical actually. I just wonder what it’s like to have medical bills you can’t afford, or be unemployed and have a family to provide for… AND, in addition to these financial challenges, to also know that the odds are stacked against you because you are “other.” And then to know that the leader of our country isn’t necessarily your advocate.

America may be the land of opportunity, but it isn’t yet an equal opportunity for all.

I believe we know the intentions of a Trump presidency… a desire for change that is an anti-government, economy boosting commitment to make America great again. I get it.You want your small business to thrive, your insurance premiums to go down, and big government to become smaller.

I think  we just failed to have a real and honest conversation– or understanding– about what being “great again” looks like. What I know, however, is that the rhetoric didn’t sound so attractive, appealing, and reassuring to many. Surely you can see the concern… can’t you?

I love your unwavering passion as much my own. I haven’t unfriended you… because I value your perspective. Even when I cannot understand or agree with your views, hearing them makes me more knowledgeable. We could all try listening more and talking less I think.

Your spunk means you care. I know because I’m super spunky. Despite my best efforts to not be snarky, I  know I sometimes fail. Reality is — I’ll take passion over apathy any day. But I suspect you aren’t going to suddenly become a wall flower… and neither am I.

So now…

I MARCH, literally and figuratively, into an unknown future. I give louder voice to those who aren’t being heard. I will be an ally to their cause. I’ll use my privilege to advance theirs. I’ll fight to keep my body my own, because I believe that is my right– and not for men, politicians, or the government to decide.

I COMMIT to a future that, as Obama said tonight, is FAIR, JUST, and INCLUSIVE. I want to tell my daughters to change the world and have them believe they can do it! To have role models and to see others blaze a trail. I want them to work hard and earn equal pay. I want parents to not lose their children to senseless acts—whether black, brown, in law enforcement, or otherwise.

And, I LOVE. I think love is love is love. Period. We don’t live in binary. Nothing is that simple. We are complicated human beings. And I believe operating from a place of love and inclusion, versus fear and barriers, is always the best choice.

Oh yeah, and I WON’T QUIT. I’ll continue to live with intention and pay attention to the impact I have, good and bad. I’ll act in small deed and grand gesture FORWARD. I will model the way for my children. This is my legacy; they are my reason.

Lastly, I HOPE. I hope to be surprised not disappointed. I hope to see change and greatness combined. And I’ll try to offer hope to others as I live authentically and keep trying to make hearts happy — all while chiseling away at that fortified glass ceiling.

But to close, I leave you with this quote from Mother Teresa to consider…

“We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked, and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for is the greatest poverty.”