"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." ~e e cummings

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Are we going to spend the next four years perpetuating the stereotype of the Whiny, Entitled Liberal, complaining on Facebook about the state of the world, or are we going to put on our Big Girl Pants(uits) and get shit done?

That's what I thought.

If you're planning to march or protest or demonstrate, good for you (as long as you are peaceful and nonviolent and nondestructive...throwing bricks never helped anyone). If you're planning to put in your volunteer hours to accompany women to their appointments at Planned Parenthood or people of color in their daily commutes, fantastic. And thank you.

But if you're the primary caregiver of small children or the primary provider for your family, you may not feel as though you are willing or able to commit to these Large Efforts.

So write some checks (don't use PayPal--Thiel = ugh). It's not throwing money at a problem...it's handing money to people who are in a position to Do The Most Good, while you concentrate on the critical issue of Raising the Next Generation of Kind and Conscientious Voters and Citizens.

Maybe you'll donate to one of these organizations each month over the next four years. Maybe you'll donate each and every time a new piece of discriminatory or dangerous legislation is passed. Maybe you'll donate each time you witness or experience an act of Trump-legitimized hate.

Bookmark these links** and wear them out...over the next four years and beyond.

For the Environment
Donate in honor of Myron Ebell, who was chosen to lead Trump's EPA transition team and is a noted Climate Change Denier.

For Minorities and Immigrants
Donate in honor of David Clark, who equated BLM to ISIS or in honor of Jeff Sessions, who has been called Amnesty's Worst Enemy. Both men have been named as potential Cabinet picks of the Trump Administration.
Donate in honor of Mike Pence who, as the Governor of Indiana, signed into law a bill that made it legal for businesses to refuse service to LGBTQ customers. He also argued for public funding for conversion therapy for gay youth. Now he is our Vice President-Elect.
Donate in honor of Mr. Trump himself.

For Common Sense Gun Legislation
Donate in honor of Big Gun Lover (and Big Game murderer) Donald Trump Jr. or Wayne LaPierre, head of the NRA.
Lesson Learned:
If I must accept him as our President, I will; but I will not accept the hateful words and actions on which he built his campaign. I will do what I can to help protect the people whom he has marginalized and vowed to strip of their rights. 



**This is not a complete list. I have tried to cross-reference these organizations on CharityWatch.org, Give.org, and Charity Navigator, but not all are listed. 

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Our New Reality

The unthinkable actually happened.

First North Carolina fell and then Florida. I burst into tears and ran to the room in which all three of my children slept. I stood in that room and sobbed silent, heaving sobs.

I went to bed, scared and shivering, but grasping desperately onto the last shred of hope I had left. This wasn't over.

I finally fell asleep after lying in bed for several hours, willing myself not to look at my phone, which I had uncharacteristically brought upstairs with me.

At four, I awoke with a jolt. I quietly reached over my four-year old, who had crawled into our bed while I slept, and found my phone on the bedside table. I opened, first, CNN. The headline took my breath away: President Trump.

I gasped, literally clutching my chest, and reached down to touch my daughter, sleeping beside me. We have failed you.

My tears made it hard for me to read, but I opened Facebook anyway. Status after status of my friends and neighbors: What happened? Is this an alternate universe? FUCK THIS. #imSTILLwithher

I added my own:

For my medically complex son, I weep.
For my gender nonconforming son, I weep.
For my daughter, I weep.

But my broken heart still chooses Love. Kindness. Respect. Decency. Freedom. Hope that our Future will do better. Be better.

Oh, America. What have you done?

***

I put away my phone, snuggled up to my daughter, and cried. There would be no more sleep.

By the time I arrived at my brother's juice bar for work that morning, I was wrecked.

I entered the restaurant and hugged my coworkers. My "What. The. Fuck." echoed through the emptiness. We cried. We shook our heads.

And then, we got to work.

We cleaned and stocked and prepped and readied and then, sure enough, the customers started to come. I was surprised, at first. "Who the hell wants a smoothie on a goddamn day like today?" But I understood as I watched them throughout the morning. As a hippie juice bar and raw foods kitchen on a blue island (surrounded by a red lake) in a newly-blue state, we were a haven. Customers came in all wearing the same wasted, broken look on their faces. They hugged each other. The mood was somber, as Jimi Hendrix's Star Spangled Banner played over the speakers.

But there was normalcy, too. Life, it seemed, would go on.

I was sorting bottles, my eyes, at last completely dry, when a regular came to where I was standing at the end of the bar. As he waited for his order, he looked at me. "How're you doing?"

I had stopped saying "fine" as my default response. "This is hard," I said instead.

"My daughter was sobbing this morning as I left..." he started. We all want to share our stories. Our "Where Were You When" moments. Those moments are seared in our brains...the apexes between the before and the after, the turning point after which life, as we had known it, would never be the same.

We talked for a few minutes about our fears...legitimized discrimination against religious and ethnic groups and the LGBT community...a repeal of the health care system that both of our families depend on...our environment...our national economy...international instability...the list went on....but it kept circling back to the word that defined his campaign: Hate.

Finally, he said, "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told my daughter. Now, I've lived on this earth longer than you. I'm not saying I've been through more than you have, because we all have our own stories, but I have aged more than you. I have watched people around me deal or not deal with changes as they have happened and there's one thing that will age you faster and more negatively than anything else."

"Worry?" I guessed. "Anxiety?" Because I certainly felt about ten years older and more tired than I had the day before.

"The inability to adapt to change."

I furrowed my brow. Adapt? To this CHANGE?! I will never ADAPT TO HATE.

He could see where my mind was going so he quickly added: "You don't have to agree with the change, but you need to adapt to it. Accept it. Work with it. USE it."

I think he's right. I'm never going to accept hate. I'm never going to respect the platform on which this president-elect won this election.

But nearly half of my country does.

So I will work with that.

I will work. I will fight.

I will adapt. To this "change."

I will not just sit and cry and hope for a better tomorrow...because that's not adapting, that's remaining stagnant while the world around me changes.

I have joined a group of women in my community who are ready to Work. We are meeting next week and I'm ready. I have never been an activist before, but I'm a fast learner and I'm highly motivated. My kids will see me stand up for what is Right: Freedom. Kindness. Compassion. Inclusion. Acceptance. Love.

I will accept that Donald Trump is my president, but I will not tolerate Hate.

Lesson Learned:

Change will be slow and difficult...but it will be worth it. Be Brave, New World. It's time to act.