The stench was overwhelming as my son and I entered the car to drive to school in the morning. I had left all the campaign signs from my polling place in the back of the car too exhausted the previous evening to move them. The smell was like a mix of lawn clippings and urine and it filled my tiny hatchback with an overwhelming stench. My son looked at me annoyed and put his backpack on his lap instead of in the back where the signs were stacked up.
I had just told my son about the election results. Like ripping off a band aid, I just had my son sit down and I told him who won and lost on both the state and federal level. It was important because there were some wins here in North Carolina. Still my son asked about his safety as a kid with a disability, he asked about climate change and unchecked corporate greed. I didn’t sugar coat. I simply said I would protect his rights and that we would work together to fight for the rights of others.
It was a heartbreaking conversation. I was physically and mentally exhausted, but somehow made it through without tears and with as much mental fortitude as I could muster. The drive into school in the stinky car didn’t help, but my kid seemed OK. He looked at me and said he’d try his best today even if his best wasn’t what it looks like for other kids. I smiled knowing that he really is trying in world not set up for how his brain is wired.
I didn’t break down and cry until I got a text from a friend that simply said, “hugs.” At my last traffic light before home, I began to cry. I’ve been crying off and on now for a while. Mourning the the time I’ll need to spend defending the rights of my child, and the rights of others. The existential dread is an aura lingering about, while the real and horrifying facts live echoing in my brain. Its so loud and sad in my headspace and I’m not quite sure how to completely turn it off. Maybe turning it off completely isn’t going to happen so I need to use my strategies. Use your strategies might be the most used phrase in my house and I’m certain it will continue to be as time shuffles forward.
As my brain struggles to make sense of it all, I know the actions that work. I know how to do this again. First is inform. In real ways using our stories, we inform small circles and big circles of what’s going on in our world. We each do this differently and over time and space our circles connect. This builds a base of people who share an understanding of an issue and then are ready to work together to solve it. Next, we encourage each other to work in whatever ways they work best. It sounds simple enough, but inter personal relations are hard. We share joy most of the time, but sometimes its hard and jealousy, egos, and conflict are ever present. Still if we can remember that we have a common goal, take breaks, and that we’re all unique as we ground ourselves in the humanity of others, we will succeed. Finally understand that our greatest power doesn’t rest in government and elected positions. Our greatest power rests in our communities. Communities offer protections, power, and hope when everyone else fails us. This is where my hope resides.
I’m not quite ready to fight, rally, or march just yet. I need to regroup and heal. I’m just not going to feel defeated. I’m also going to be cognizant of the fear and dangers those I love face. The world gets darker earlier these days. However, I’m going to hold unto hope. See in 2016, I didn’t have what I have now. Now, I have a strong vibrant community of strong women. I am not alone. Today that is enough.