Today I sit at my computer, knowing I have much to say, but not knowing how to say it.
Yet.
There are big things to be said. There are things to say about America’s decision to elect a foaming-at-the-mouth racist, a misogynist, a rapist to our highest political office. There are things to say about the culture that would enable this unqualified, unpatriotic bigot to win in a race against the woman who may be the most qualified presidential candidate in the nation’s history. There are things to say about the millions of people who must now wonder whether it’s safe for them to stay in this hostile country anymore.
I sit in front of my computer, typing on a clunky external keyboard because my real keyboard stopped functioning in the middle of the election coverage, and think about how I will be married in 10 days. I am a woman marrying another woman (though there are some wiggly gender things in the mix). I can’t help but Google the ways in which my marriage can be torn apart by humans who can’t believe in the happiness, safety, or dignity of other humans.
I think about the panicking economy. I think about the montage of evil things our new president said about the people he now expects to unite beneath him. I think about my friend’s mother who said, regarding this man’s own vile admissions, “You don’t just let a man stick his hand up your skirt. You defend yourself.” She said this to her daughter, as if she’d forgotten what her own child had survived, as if her baby was the one at fault for the crime committed against her.
There is rage in my throat that will burn me hollow. There is so much to say, so much, and my heart can’t take the strain of it. My jaw aches from gritting my teeth. A new fear wraps thorny vines around my guts as I wonder if I can be brave enough to introduce my wife to people in this country as my wife, not my roommate, not my friend.
My new vice president would sooner see me electrocuted than happily married.
On my wedding day, I will think of that. I know I will.
But I will also think of how this rage can be transformed into energy. An aggressive kindness, an army of love in the face of America’s blind hatred.
Our country will not be the rabid dog that the rest of the world watches with fear, wondering when to put us down. Not with the millions of outraged voices rising up from every corner of the map. Not with the thousands of organizations dedicated to the protection of those who are threatened by the madmen we’ve let into our government.
Lend your strength to the Indiana Youth Group. To Planned Parenthood. To Dayspring Center. To every organization that values the lives that have been jeopardized today. Help the ACLU take Trump to court should he try to implement his most dangerous and unconstitutional proposed policies. Defend your Muslim neighbors. We will save America from the ground up with ferocity and passion and goodness.
May our actions preserve what I still believe is a good and beautiful nation, even as our government eats itself alive. Stand strong. We will be proven right in time, thought it will be a grueling process.
I have so much more to say. I will be among the millions who will act and love and write America back to life.
And so will you.