How to explain the feelings of joy and optimism I started with that day. Being in line to vote before the polls opened. Standing at my little voting "booth" for a moment before I cast my vote, just to take in the sense of wonder and history. Walking out with the smile that wouldn't leave my face for hours.
It stayed until Florida, why is it always Florida? Then the smile turned to tears. Many, many tears. The kind of crying you see when someone has died. It wasn't just disappointment that my candidate lost and someone else won. It was more than that. It was the fear and utter disbelief. Fear of what might lie ahead, and utter disbelief that a reality television star, who openly bragged about grabbing women by the pussy, and mocked the disabled was going to lead this country.
The day after the election one of my cousins told me that he knew it was a tough couple of days for me with the Cleveland Indians losing to the Chicago Cubs in the World Series and the whole Hillary thing. But he was sure that in a year the Indians would be even better (OK he may have been right about that) and I would see that I didn't want Hillary to be the first woman president after all.
Well you know what? It's awfully close to a year and he's as wrong now as he was then. Every day I am more and more convinced that she would have been the much better decision for this country. Every time there is a tweet antagonizing the North Koreans, goading them a little closer to trying to send a nuclear weapon into the world. Every time Neo-Nazis are touted as being "fine people on both sides".
So in my own way I've become part of the resistance. I marched proudly in January, wearing my pink pussy hat. And by wearing my pink pussy hat every day for the rest of the winter. And by knitting them for others as well (nine so far this year, ten if you count the tiny one for the tiny panda).
I've taken to not only putting my "money where my mouth is" by giving to the organizations I support, but by wearing my politics and beliefs proudly. A couple of weeks ago I was at Costco proudly wearing my pink "I stand with Planned Parenthood" t-shirt. Someone touched my shoulder and I turned to see an older woman who stopped to take a moment to thank me. To thank me for standing with Planned Parenthood. She too was a supporter, and had been writing and calling our state senator on a variety of issues, and she wanted me to know that she thought it was wonderful that I was willing to publicly display that I was with Planned Parenthood.
I've taken to trying to join with others that feel the way that I do to work for change in the political arena. And defending my beliefs publicly, even if it's just on Facebook. Even if it means that my own relatives (different one this time) call my husband an asshole for agreeing with me, and telling me to leave the country if I don't like it. I'm not sorry, my political leanings haven't changed much in the past 30+ years, and I doubt they're going to start changing now.
Is there a point to all of this rambling? Maybe, who knows? But I do know that the better candidate lost in November. I do know that a great disservice was done to this country with that election. I do know that I stand with Planned Parenthood and women's rights. I do know that a trans person can pee next to me (yep, I have that on a shirt too). I do know that Muslims are not our enemy. I do know that Neo-Nazis are our enemy and the generation that fought to defeat them would be less than pleased about claims that there are "some very fine people" among them. I do know that taking a knee as a sign of protest or not attending the singing of the national anthem are NOT signs that you are not a proud American. I do know that the people you are sure that are offended fought to give those same people the right to protest.
And I do know that I'm still here, I'm not going anywhere and I'm not going to back down on what is right.
