Unpublished, but not Unsent v5

Photo by Jacqueline Day on Unsplash

Dear Editor,

November 4th, 2020 is turning out to feel nightmarishly like November 9th, 2016. In putting my finger on what bothers me most, it’s this - in 2016, I naively asked myself, “in 1933, what would I have done, as a German citizen, in Nazi Germany?” My answer was, I *hoped, that I would have condemned Nazi supporters, be they family, friends, or colleagues. So that’s what I did in 2016. I ended long-term friendships with trump supporters I have known since preschool, fought rabidly with Republican family members, and ended business relationships with Republican professionals.

In 2020, the vitriol escalated; my own parents have swung to the right-wing and I feel utterly abandoned. As a social entrepreneur, I’m egotistical enough to feel especially offended when loved ones do not trust my instinct about trump and the Republicans. Haven’t I spent my entire career practicing fair trade; haven’t I, at the very least, earned the right to be vouched for when it comes to identifying pretty obvious injustice? [I wish it was that simple…]

But faced with another election loss, in order to survive another four years worrying about progressive ideals being demonized by fox news, I will need to find another way. I will not change what I am fighting for, but HOW I fight might have to change.

What’s most difficult is discerning the legitimacy of the threat. I want to believe that I would have stood up to a Nazi neighbor. But I’m tired of losing friends. How, I wonder, have four long years of trump’s compulsive lying not made Republican voters them ask themselves: “in 1933, what would I have done, as a German citizen, in Nazi Germany?”

Unpublished, but not Unsent v2

Dear Editor.

I am angry. I have been angry since Election Day 2016. It’s amazing to me that this anger has ceased to subside; it’s a little like grief in that way, it simply burns true day after day. I’m angry that as a working mom I have to dedicate any spare time to the Resistance, which means, as an introvert, having to spend my Saturday afternoons in anguish, phone banking for Democrats. I am especially angry about the fear that drives my anger to exhibit itself in unexpected ways, like a crying-jag in public. And I am not alone. I can name scores of other women, who, like me, are angry. These women are changed, some (you’d be surprised how many) have quit their jobs to join the Resistance, to lead it. These women have been transformed into activists.

Now you might ask, why does this matter? What has the transformation wrought? I can tell you this, these women are living differently, every spare moment (and just ask a woman how carefully life must be ordered to allow for a spare moment) is spent educating themselves about this current political reality and using the activism tools they have created to fight back, run for office and broaden the progressive, liberal ideals with which they were raised. I am angry, and I know now that I should have been angry LONG before the 2016 election. The interesting thing about this anger is that it has birthed not violence, but generosity and action. It is a wellspring of motivation that these women have used to create communities.

Today when I realized that being in the “Resistance” actually just means taking part in our democracy, my anger suddenly subsided a bit. I’m thankful to have been forced to participate and take action, to fundraise and phonebank for Democratic candidates who will defend progressive politics. Yes, I am still angry that a conservative Supreme Court will overturn Roe v. Wade; but I am grateful, finally, to have learned the hard way the value of taking part. Taking part IS the same as fighting for. And I will never stop, taking part.

I hope you won’t either.