Reflections on Nov 6th written Jan 25th
I woke up on November the sixth. That isn’t right to say. I didn’t wake up on November the sixth because I did not sleep on the night from the fifth to the sixth. I got out of bed on the sixth and I remember being surprised. Surprised the sun still rose, people going about their lives, the world looked utterly normal. And I could not fathom. How was this normal? Nothing about this was normal. And we all went about our lives. There was no chaos. No uproar. No eruption. Nothing. Just a day. November the sixth
I learned three things that day.
One: how naïve I was. How sheltered I am being a white woman living in liberal city in a red state. Sure, like every woman I’ve experienced misogyny, sexual harassment, and sexual assault. Sure, I’ve experienced antisemitism. But I’ve discovered for myself a safe enclave where those realities are no longer daily issues for me. I have found an uplifting community and daily safety. I let this lull me into a false sense of security. I let this let me forget how it really is. And so naively, I believed that a brown woman had a shot. I was very terribly wrong. Every BIPOC woman I spoke to after the election and some I ignored beforehand, they all with one chorus said that a brown woman – impossible. Her gender and skin were two too many strikes against her.
Two: I did not realize until November the sixth that I love my country. I spent my teens and twenties actively trying to emigrate from this country. I desperately wanted to live anywhere else. I openly voiced shame for my country. As a teenager I remember feeling enraged at what my country was doing in our name. In the name of its citizens. In the name of freedom and protecting Americans. I didn’t really understand politics, but I knew the violence being persecuted thousands of miles away was not in the name of protecting Americans. When I moved abroad my voice grew louder as I actively tried to disown and distance myself from the country of my birth. How stupid people are. How misinformed. How gullible. Openly saying how we had the highest per capita incarcerated population – more than under Stalin. How test scores were falling. How school shootings were a travesty. America has a terrible reputation abroad and the highest compliment I felt I received was that I didn’t seem American. So it was a shock to me to wake up on the sixth of November and find that I truly do love this country. I didn’t think that I did. But I know my reaction would not have been so visceral if I did not deeply love this country, want the best for it, believe in it, love its people, want the best for every human being living on this land. I want this land, its flora and fauna, and its people to thrive. On November the fifth I had hope, actually. Naïve hope, but hope nonetheless. On the sixth, I had grief. Grief such as what you would feel when you received the news a loved one has a terminal diagnosis.
Which brings me to three: The United States has a terminal diagnosis. It is an illness that was right there from the very inception. A country founded by white male slaveowners to keep their money and power in the hands of white male slave owners. The illness was there from day one. As much as we try to glorify this country as being founded on the principles of freedom, prosperity, and the right of every individual to have self-determination, the reality is a brutal, bloody, violent two hundred and fifty year history that has taken every opportunity to keep power in the hands of white men and out of the hands of everyone else. Including women. Especially women. What we saw on November the fifth was not a diversion from American values, but a return to them. The reason why liberals have such a hard time gaining traction in this country is because this country was not founded for them. It was not founded on the principles of helping the least among us, making sure no one is left behind, or ensuring the rights of every human being no matter their race, religion, creed, gender, or any other identifying factor. It was founded on the principles of holding economic power in the hands of a select few.
In re-electing Donald Trump and not electing Kamala Harris, the United States has fulfilled its obligation to its values – an old white man with a supposedly Christian alliance, actually representing a coalition clutching power, money, and resources.
In the reality of this dawn, in the reality of this knowledge, in the reality of these personal awakenings, now what?