Mindful bonus from Waylon & elephant community, today:
I still can’t fully process the events of this election.
I’ve been sitting here with my dear friend all night long watching it unfold. We were struck down further and further in disbelief until neither of us could take it any longer.
She cried. I felt too shocked. I still can hardly breathe.
It’s now three o’clock in the morning and there’s nothing left to do but sleep. But I can’t. I am sick. I am shocked. I am heartbroken. I am grieving.
The woman I’ve loved and supported since my childhood just lost the race for the presidency. No one deserved it more than she did. She earned that title more than anyone in recent history ever could have. She’s fought tooth and nail for her entire career, combatting relentless pushes from a low-blowing conservative opposition that so deeply fears a woman with power and a voice and the wherewithal to use them for the benefit of her country that they’ll do anything to prevent her from doing all the good she can do.
Tonight, “anything” came to a head in the concession to our new president-elect.
That man will not be my president. I cannot call him that.
That man is reason enough for a nation to grieve, for a world to wonder what will be once he takes office.
That man is reason enough for women to feel threatened, to feel violated by words and by physical touch, to feel incapable of acquiring autonomy in health matters and otherwise.
That man is reason enough for the LGBTQ community to feel discarded and rejected, completely and utterly hopeless at the prospect of being barred from love after having fought so hard for the right—which never should have been denied in the first place.
That man is reason enough for Muslims, racial minorities and immigrant hopefuls to live in more fear than they already do.
That man has promised to throw the historically oppressed 10 steps back after having fought so hard to come any distance toward progress. And the people who elected him? They’ve shown us that they, too, support this dangerous maneuver into what can only be described as a backwards sort of hell.
That man is the biggest mistake we’ve made in our entire history.
That is a reason to grieve.
That is a reason to get that sense of mourning in my chest, closing up the back of my throat, not fully processing what’s just occurred but all too aware of the grave consequences. And right now, that’s about all I feel capable of doing anyway: grieving for a country I thought I knew, but hardly recognize after seeing its true colors tainted by sexism, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, violence and overall hate in its most rabid form.
If there is a bright side, it’s this: After we grieve, we must fight.
We must pick up where Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders and President Barack Obama left off.
We must grieve and then we must ensure that we protect ourselves from what’s to come by planning for what must follow: healing whatever comes of this man, looking out for each other, fighting for what’s right, working toward love in the form of equality and compassion.
We must let the sentiment of the Clinton campaign ring true as we try to make it through this thing: We are stronger together.
Author: Sara Rodriguez
Editor: Sara Kärpänen