What kind of world has it been?
If it's not working for everyone, it's not working for anyone.
Happy Sunday Beloveds,
Every day for the past week I’ve asked myself at some point if I could write a newsletter and until yesterday the answer was no. Prior to Tuesday I was so anxious I was awake multiple times every night, waking up with a kind of dread, steeling for the possibility that the country would choose four more years of madness.
On Tuesday something shifted though. I woke up at 3:45 am and made my way in the darkness to Holy Rood Episcopal church at 5:00. We were a hodge podge crew of first time workers and long time veterans, but somehow our coordinator Sharika got us sorted out in time to open the doors at 6:00 so that democracy could happen. Throughout a 16-hour day that went faster than I imagined it would, I saw the faces of my neighbors - immigrants and lifelong New Yorkers, elderly people pushing walkers, and brave souls masked/gloved/shielded within an inch of their lives whose fear of COVID was surpassed only by their fear that our republic was in peril. Over and over they showed up - a shiny new citizen joyfully casting his first ballot and a 93 year old woman inching her way through hers, shuffling out to the sound of an entire roomful of poll workers applauding. I had tears in my eyes more than once, looking around that room. I had hope.
And then I went home, sat down in front of the television and tweeted this.
Over and over in advance of this election we were told that there would be a “red mirage” in the early stages of the counting, but that warning did nothing to quell the fear and anxiety I felt over the next three days as I imagined just how much worse this country could get with four more years of a madman in charge. Still that fear wasn’t the worst part of those days. That was watching Black, gay, transgender, Latinx, and Native friends as the votes spooled out the story of 70+ million people who saw their oppression and the myriad ways they would be further threatened and looked the other way. Can you even imagine the terror of watching people choose a man AND a party that has the resources of the federal government at their disposal and encourages violence and oppression against people who look like you?
How could I write? I was in disbelief. This wasn’t 2016. He’d proven his ineptitude over and over, his lack of care and attention, his narcissistic and childish impulses, and his absolute inability to govern. There was documentation of his 25,000 lies and botched handling of a disease that in some countries was completely under control, but in ours was cutting swaths of death in every direction. And yet, 55% of white women voted for him, more even than his first run. I was ashamed. I was furious.
I haunted Twitter and news websites, refreshing every 60 seconds in case there was a shred of good news. And then Friday morning it came. The vote counts in Pennsylvania and Georgia flipped to Joe Biden and in the moment of my exhale, the thought of Thanksgiving came unbidden to my mind. I saw my family around the table celebrating and realized then how long it had been since I’d let myself consider the future with any kind of anticipation or hope.
How lovely on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, announcing peace and bringing good news of happiness, announcing salvation and saying to Zion, "Your God reigns!"*
Sometimes the oldest words are the only words that work.
Saturday morning I awakened bleary-eyed and compromised with myself by promising to do yoga while listening to MSNBC, never expecting that my deepest desire - to witness the calling of the election - would be answered within the hour. I wept and prayed with a grateful heart and then I opened my window to the joy of the people of New York City. Horns honking and people shouting from sidewalks and hanging out of windows and bus drivers raising their fists in solidarity as they drove by. I cried in private and I cried in public and at the end of the day I took two bottles of champagne to Fort Tryon Park where the original Revolution happened, and there our little group of masked friends toasted this one, well aware of how much work there is to do, but oh so grateful for the ability to do it.
Today we begin again. One good thing about rubble is that there’s plenty of room to build a better world, but I’m not sure how to begin the conversations that need to be had. My personal evolution happened because I grew tired of living in a small and insular world. Yes it was intimidating at times to step into new spaces, to be unknown or lonely; to listen when I wanted to talk; to admit I’d gotten things very wrong.
But oh the freedom and joy of a bigger world! The way it expands everything else - ambition and imagination; people and work; calling and faith; even failure feels less terrifying here. There really is room at the table for us all.
Thoughts for the week—
One year ago Professor Eddie Glaude told us who we are and we didn’t listen. If you really want to Make America Great (not Again because sorry you have to kill less people for that designation) watch this.
An absolutely fascinating (and very quick) Twitter thread that somehow connects the Cretaceous period with the voting patterns of a particular part of the South.
I loved Natalie Morales on Parks and Rec and was fascinated by this (also quick) thread she wrote explaining the reasons she believes members of her Cuban American family vote Republican. It applies to others as well.
We’re actually closer than the votes for President might suggest. This piece in the Washington Post gave me more hope than I thought was possible as it detailed the ways that state ballot measures leaned toward creating a more just society.
PS (Petty Stuff) 1) If your MAGA relatives say the vote was rigged, ask them if it applies to the seats the Rs picked up in the House and the Senate seats they held. Last time I checked, those elections were on the same ballots. ~ 2) Where is the joy of the Republican party? Dems celebrate Black Lives Matter and Pride and equality for women and welcoming the formerly incarcerated back into society and keeping families together and diversity and arts and culture and I swear to Bob I never see Republicans happy except when they’re doing mean stuff to people. ~ 3) I’ve been outspoken about my faith in every “liberal” circle I’ve ever stepped into and not once has anyone been disrespectful or dismissive about it. NOT ONCE. Rather they have been kind and inclusive and encouraged me to share even more of who I am. 4) The fact that Kamala Harris is the first woman Vice President, given that women have been part of this country since its founding is the kind of fact that if you think about it too long you’ll want to fight someone. White men have been exclusively in charge FOR TOO LONG. May this be the beginning of the end of that nonsense. Ok, I’m done.
Finally (and as a palate cleanser for the above PS) here is the full Seamus Heaney poem that Joe Biden has been quoting. Read it aloud and imagine a President who believes these words enough to memorize them. We’re almost there.
Be brave. Love you. Bias of the week will be back on Thursday.
*Isaiah 52:7
Well written and sincerely heartfelt. Although not what I was expecting, may this new administration bring peace between political parties and a unity among the people of this nation, both desperately needed. May kindness and Godly wisdom prevail.
Always so beautifully written. 70m Americans to convince though to give Biden Harris a chance to help heal the country. Let’s hope they find the words