What Comes Next

It's been several days, and I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that I've gone through a whole range of emotions. I've been surprised that I haven't been as emotional as I was after 2016, but I think that's also because I wasn't as surprised that Americans would choose this outcome again. Not surprised -- but definitely disappointed. I'm disappointed that the majority of those who voted would choose a convicted felon who encouraged his supporters to overthrow the government and who had said he would be a dictator over an exceptionally well-qualified candidate who happens to a woman. I'm disappointed that so many voters would choose hatred and fear of others and in many cases would vote against their own self-interests. I'm disappointed that so many seem to have accepted the narrative (which, let's face it, was basically propaganda) that we're in the worst economic situation ever and that we're being overrun by dangerous criminals coming through wide-open borders without bothering or perhaps knowing how to check the facts. Mostly I'm disappointed that this country really hasn't come very far in terms of equality and equal opportunity in its 248 years.

But then I watched the vice president's concession speech on Wednesday. I was amazed at her composure and her ability to smile and say she was still hopeful. I was inspired by her words, particularly to the younger people who were so excited by her candidacy. If you didn't watch it, I encourage you to, especially if your heart is still hurting. She reminded me that the United States is all of us -- that it is our ongoing commitment to each other and to the Constitution that makes us a country. And given what we might face in the next four years, those of us who value our freedoms and our rights can't just throw in the towel and give in to despair.

I'll admit I am scared about what the future might bring. I already have fewer rights than I had four years ago, and we all may very well lose more. But I am not letting the prospect of what might happen take away my joy in the right now. I will continue to find happiness in the things that I love, beauty in the world around me, and contentment from being with family and friends. I know that as an educated white woman who is financial fairly secure, my day-to-day life is less precarious than those of immigrants, people of color, the LGBTQIA+ community, and others who face discrimination and additional barriers, so I can use the privilege I have to help them. I can donate my time and money to causes that lift people up. I can be a good neighbor in my community and spread kindness to others. And I can take consolation in the fact that there are many others out there who I think will join me in these efforts.

The bottom line is that while I am not especially full of hope right now, I am not hopeless. Having any hope right now feels a bit like an act of bravery and resistance -- and doesn't that seem like a very good thing in these dark times?

So my friends, as we head into this weekend, please know that you are not alone in feeling all the feelings. Please be gentle with yourselves and take the time you need to process, mourn, whatever. But I hope that soon you will feel up to joining me in doing whatever small things we can to make this world a better place.