My first presidential election experience was pretty awful. It was 2000, I was a sophomore in college and I really thought that my family needed to move out of the country because I was so afraid of what Dubya would do. I was embarrassed about having someone so crude and inarticulate representing my country. I felt disenfranchised because my candidate had won the popular vote and may have won the electoral college if not for the unprecedented intervention of the Supreme Court. That was what I previously thought of as the darkest times of times in my nanocosm of political experience. Ha. Ha. Like, not funny "ha ha" but laugh to keep from being consumed by overwhelming hopelessness "ha ha".
It did end up being also awful, as we all know, under Dubya. 9/11, OIF, OEF, financial crises, record low approval ratings, etc... etc... But then we elected Obama for 2 terms and I began to believe again in the fundamental "ok"-ness and fairness of our political process and electorate. Arc of the moral universe bending towards justice, etc... Nevermind that I was disillusioned with the gerrymandered districts that allowed for Republican dominance in the house, the ignominious obstructionism that marked the least productive Congressional terms in history, the poor voter turnout during midterms. I held onto the fact that every 4 years, when people showed up to vote, for realsies, that the majority of the population would do the right thing. After all, I thought "we" had made significant progress over the past 8 years with overall trends towards less violent crime, greater inclusivity, more awareness of systemic racial/gender/sexual-orientation biases, etc... etc... etc...
Anyway, my belief was misplaced, clearly. This election and the subsequent week have been epically disappointing and horrifying for me in ways I did not anticipate. It's a small but inadequate comfort that the majority of this country did not vote for that bloviating narcissist... because nearly half DID. WTF. And I'm aware that my privilege affords me the benefit of stewing over all of this in my relatively safe bubble which has remained intact. Even Orange County, a bastion of Republican privilege and part of my protective bubble within California, went blue this year for the first time since the Great Depression. My privilege allowed me to threaten to leave the country for New Zealand, and then to seriously consider such a move over the past week. The mental and emotional anguish that I'm experiencing with my privilege makes me quake at the unfathomable pain that others must be going through when considering the prospect of being separated from their families, racially profiled/harassed/murdered over the next four years by emboldened white extremists, losing life-saving health coverage, losing access to contraception and safe abortions, dying or being displaced by natural disasters as we kill our planet even more rapidly, or any number of other heart-breakingly REAL scenarios that we're all now facing.
So, I'm scared and sad and mad. I've even been rethinking the wisdom of bringing a child into this world, especially because it's been so goddamn hard for us to get and stay pregnant. I keep reading all of these think pieces, essays, articles in a desperate search for what seems like a way forward. I've been finding many opinions and expressions of experiences that mirror my own, but so far none that have provided a projection of action that seems like it would be adequate to mitigate the devastation that I feel has already happened and will continue to happen.
That being said, we're still going to move forward with our fertility slog. We're not moving to New Zealand or anywhere else because, as my hubby put it, "we need to stay and fight". He also mentioned that he would regret it on his deathbed if he were to leave, selfishly, at this time. We won't fight for #CalExit because we need Colorado anyway for water ;) So I guess that's something. Even though I do not intellectually or emotionally see or feel any reason for hope at this time, I am still going to move forward with what is probably the most hopeful, optimistic and brave thing that anyone can do- try to start a family. I guess for once my uterus will be taking the lead with a leap of faith into the future, and God willing my heart and mind will eventually catch up.
In the meantime, I'm finding a modicum of solace in supporting worthy organizations. I've been cheered and encouraged by reconnecting with friends to commiserate. I'm focusing on self care. I'm writing... which I guess is another unconscious form of optimism because perhaps I hope that someday I can read this post and chuckle about my histrionics. In a funny "ha ha" way.
Anyway, my belief was misplaced, clearly. This election and the subsequent week have been epically disappointing and horrifying for me in ways I did not anticipate. It's a small but inadequate comfort that the majority of this country did not vote for that bloviating narcissist... because nearly half DID. WTF. And I'm aware that my privilege affords me the benefit of stewing over all of this in my relatively safe bubble which has remained intact. Even Orange County, a bastion of Republican privilege and part of my protective bubble within California, went blue this year for the first time since the Great Depression. My privilege allowed me to threaten to leave the country for New Zealand, and then to seriously consider such a move over the past week. The mental and emotional anguish that I'm experiencing with my privilege makes me quake at the unfathomable pain that others must be going through when considering the prospect of being separated from their families, racially profiled/harassed/murdered over the next four years by emboldened white extremists, losing life-saving health coverage, losing access to contraception and safe abortions, dying or being displaced by natural disasters as we kill our planet even more rapidly, or any number of other heart-breakingly REAL scenarios that we're all now facing.
So, I'm scared and sad and mad. I've even been rethinking the wisdom of bringing a child into this world, especially because it's been so goddamn hard for us to get and stay pregnant. I keep reading all of these think pieces, essays, articles in a desperate search for what seems like a way forward. I've been finding many opinions and expressions of experiences that mirror my own, but so far none that have provided a projection of action that seems like it would be adequate to mitigate the devastation that I feel has already happened and will continue to happen.
That being said, we're still going to move forward with our fertility slog. We're not moving to New Zealand or anywhere else because, as my hubby put it, "we need to stay and fight". He also mentioned that he would regret it on his deathbed if he were to leave, selfishly, at this time. We won't fight for #CalExit because we need Colorado anyway for water ;) So I guess that's something. Even though I do not intellectually or emotionally see or feel any reason for hope at this time, I am still going to move forward with what is probably the most hopeful, optimistic and brave thing that anyone can do- try to start a family. I guess for once my uterus will be taking the lead with a leap of faith into the future, and God willing my heart and mind will eventually catch up.
In the meantime, I'm finding a modicum of solace in supporting worthy organizations. I've been cheered and encouraged by reconnecting with friends to commiserate. I'm focusing on self care. I'm writing... which I guess is another unconscious form of optimism because perhaps I hope that someday I can read this post and chuckle about my histrionics. In a funny "ha ha" way.
