The 2024 Election and Beyond

It's been just over a week since the election, and I'm still processing, but feel the need to get my thoughts out so I can deal with them better. I apologize now if they are all over the place. It may also be interesting in the future to look back on this moment and see how I was feeling in this time of transition.

Although transition is a strange thing. I saw an interview I related to with an athlete recently where he described his support for his trans-daughter as a transition for him, not for her. She simply is who she is, and he had to adapt and change based on a shift in his own expectations. 

That's how I'm feeling about our nation right now, but in a harsh kind of light instead of an uplifting one.

I want to rage against the foolishness and cruelty. I want to see people who voted against their own interests have it boomerang back in their faces. I want the people down the street with their "Trump 2024: Fuck your feelings" flag to understand how much worse they made our neighborhood for so many kids on the block. 

But I also need to decide who I am, and who I want to be. That person isn't hateful. That person doesn't revel in the pain of others or seek revenge. That person wants fairness and compassion for everyone, even for people who don't want to extend it to me.

That's hard to manage at a time where the presidency is being used as a get-out-of-jail-free card, "Your body, my choice" is trending on social media, and things are looking frighteningly similar to Germany in the 1930s.

I hear a lot of people expressing shock that things have changed so drastically. And I am not going to downplay that, since I think respect for rule of law is gone and we are headed into a dark time for many, not just here, but everywhere.

However, I think what we are seeing is what was always here. America was built on lofty ideals paid for with genocide and slavery. There have been advances and change, which are the parts of my country that I had pride in, but we've never paid those early debts or healed any wounds. 

What we are looking at now is white supremacy without filters.

The same people that are here today were here a few weeks ago. I'm just seeing them differently, because this isn't a disagreement over politics, it's a fundamental split over morality.

If you voted for Trump, you have made this world less safe for people I care about, and I cannot forgive that. 

If you voted for Trump, you voted against decency. You threw my daughters under the bus for what you hope will be lower prices, even though on a global level we have one of the highest standards of living in the world already. Instead of asking why things are expensive, we should be asking why people aren't paid properly for their labor so they can afford what they need. 

If you voted for Trump, you voted against the environment. Places and animals and plant species will be destroyed that will be gone forever, and that is unconscionable.

If you voted for Trump, you did it for reasons that boil down to greed and indifference to other people's suffering.

If you voted for Trump, I no longer trust you. I don't know yet if you can earn it back.

I am angry. I feel helpless. I am ashamed of the path our country is on.

I'm a cis-het white woman raised in a white community. I'm sure I still don't fully understand my privilege, but being thrust into a vulnerable space post-election, it's clearer than it was before. I've taken the level of freedom many of us enjoy for granted.

For perspective, I've been thinking a lot about the African-American community. They did not, on the whole, appear to have the same gut wrenching reaction in 2016 that white liberal voters did, because they never expected a difference in their own outcomes based on the choices offered. Even a cursory glance over Black History in this country shows a system that has dehumanized and terrorized black people here from the start. White supremacy requires we don't look at that. Which is why I hadn't heard of the Tulsa Massacre until nearly its 100th anniversary, and why Oklahoma public schools are only allowed to teach about it if they somehow omit race from the discussion. We may have the 24th amendment to address poll taxes, but we still have the 13th that provides a loophole for slave labor if people are in prison. You just have to look to Tamir Rice (and a long list of others) to know we have not progressed from Emmett Till. Abuses of "medicine" in Tuskegee may technically be in the past, but higher mortality rates for pregnant women in the African-American community regardless of income is alive and well. Red lining, how education is funded, stop and frisk, the fact that I should be able to look around the orchestras I play in and see faces that reflect my city at large and yet seldom do I get to play with black musicians despite Milwaukee only being about a third white, are all evidence that we have a fundamental problem. 

Racism is this country's original sin. Sexism is its adopted abused sister.

There is an enormous amount of inspiration to be taken from the experience of black people in America. American culture is black culture. Jazz, Blues, Hip-hop, innovations in dance, art, fashion, food, comedy, writing... All created in pockets of community within a hostile culture at large, where lynchings still happen and the police and courts are viewed as a threat rather than protection. That's true for other communities that suffer oppression here, from LGBTQ+ communities, to Hispanic culture, to the indigenous people whom this country has tried to annihilate in every conceivable way and which persist regardless.

So here we are in 2024, and as depressed as I (justifiably) feel about many things, I remember history is a long story of injustice and imperfection and suffering. We've been lucky to live in a time and place where incredible possibilities have existed and wondrous things are occasionally achieved. Can I really look at friends who have come here from places like Cuba and Venezuela, or talk to people whose relatives survived the Holocaust, or read stomach churning news about women trying to survive under the Taliban without losing their lives or their minds, and really give up hope here?

I am not that delicate, or callous.

I've turned away from the news lately because there is only so much I can take without feeling the physical effects of panic. That helps no one. I've turned toward more music, which is better for my soul anyway. The song with lyrics that resonate with me the most when I am at my darkest moments is The Heart of Life by John Mayer. I only seem to find this song when I'm feeling overwhelmed, and it reduces me to tears while making me feel I need to get up and keep going.

If we are lucky, the pendulum will eventually swing the other way. Not until a lot of damage that can't be undone has happened, but there is hope the system will remain and give us another chance to advance toward things like "diversity, equality, and inclusion" which have somehow been distorted into something to fear rather than strive for in our society. I suspect the people coming into power will not find it as easy to govern as they imagine. They don't have a mandate as much as they have a facile and demanding electorate that they can't deliver as many of their promises to as they believe.

If we are unlucky, and there is no more pendulum to swing as the system collapses into chaos, then collectively we didn't deserve it. I don't know what comes next. I will just do the best I can. I recommend people read the Declaration of Independence if you haven't recently. The list of grievances against the king is eerily familiar. Maybe if it all falls apart, we can divide up and reboot. I'll choose the side that actually believes in the Constitution, because despite its myriad flaws, it's still an excellent blueprint for creating a decent society.

When I talked to my oldest child who was looking at the election results from her college dorm room and feeling scared, it took tremendous effort to find words to share with her. Her dad told her we'd be okay, but that misses the point. As a straight white man in America, of course he'll be okay. He's not being targeted, so even as he's worried for us and others, it doesn't hit him in the same visceral way it does, say, women, who already weren't seeing justice for rape victims now watching a sexual abuser being elevated to the White House for the second time by people who somehow don't care.

I did not tell my daughter it was going to be okay, because much of it won't be. This is hard, and any decent person witnessing the destruction that is coming should be upset. However, I told her that even though millions of people voted for Trump, almost as many millions did not. Those people are still here, and still willing to do the right thing. I told her she has a family that will circle the wagons to protect her, and any of her friends who need to feel safe. I told her we will do the best we can. I reminded her there is still beauty in the world, and good people, and there is always hope as long as we choose it. The things we loved yesterday are still here today, and they are worth protecting. That's our job now.

What am I going to do going forward? The same as before. I will make things, fix things, help people in front of me who need it, and try to leave the world a little better today than yesterday if I can. 

I can only control myself. I cannot reason with people who want to believe in lies, or whitewash history, or who don't have enough imagination or empathy to understand that there are needs beyond their own, or ways of life that are as equally valid as what they have been taught to value.

I will not let the greed and recklessness of others rob me of joy and appreciation of this one life I get to live. I am disgusted and disappointed in my country, but it is still my home, and I will try in my own small way to make it what I think it should be: A decent place where freedom is protected for everyone.

Now What?

It's taken some time since election night to get my thoughts in order.

Watching the returns made me panicky.  The next morning I felt ill.  For the most part over the past several weeks I've gone back and forth between trying to stay informed (which alarms me with each new headline) and avoiding the news (which preserves my sanity and any good faith I have left toward my fellow citizens).

Donald Trump is the new president of the United States.  This says some unflattering things about ourselves as a nation, and reveals some important truths we must come to grips with.

Elelction Time

Like many, this presidential election has left me stunned.  I have apologized to my children for the behavior of the so-called adults involved.  All our children deserve better than what we have seen over the past year, and probably better than what's to come.

I have numerous thoughts about the many troubling aspects of recent politics, but most of them would just be rehashing observations everyone is all too familiar with.  Other people have written at length about the grotesque absurdities we've witnessed, so there's no need to restate them here.  What I would like to talk about are a couple of key points I think could use more consideration going forward, regardless of the results of this election.

The Real America

View from my hotel room

Cleveland is a nice city.  I wish I had the opportunity while I'm here to get out and see more of it during this convention, but for the most part I'm in a hotel near the lakefront.  It took me a day and one overpriced bowl of oatmeal in the hotel restaurant to realize the hotel is attached to a mall (and casino, and transit hub).  That's where I've been going for lunch by myself.

My fellow violin makers are very nice, but I'm having a hard time connecting with people on this trip.  There is a lot to absorb, I'm uneasy spending so much money at once (but the opportunity to select nice wood and supplies for the store is rare so it's a justifiable expense), and of course I miss my family.  I don't mind being alone, but I find here that I'm lonely.  I miss the dog being ecstatic to see me.  I miss hugs of all heights.  I guess I like alone time better on different terms.

But the interesting part about going out in public alone is getting a chance to quietly look around.  My mind processes things differently when I'm not engaged in conversation.  Without a specific person or people to focus on I can take in much more.  And I've been seeing things through a post-election lens, and this is what I see:

Covert Support

There was an Obama rally today in Milwaukee that I was hoping to attend, but I needed to be at work.  However, my new Obama t-shirt arrived in the mail!  I could have worn it to the rally.  Any rally.  A Romney rally!  Because who would know?

I swear to you, when I was looking at the customized color options for state tees on the Obama donation site, and I selected the dark blue with the black ink it looked nice!  Subtle, yet attractive.  But it turns out dark blue is almost black.  And black is definitely black.  So my "Wisconsinites for Obama" t-shirt is pretty much black on black.  Which is as subtle as whatever the opposite of a heart attack might be.  A resting heart rate?  Mona and Quinn stared at it really hard up close and said, "Oh!  I think I see words!"  So, yeah.

Maybe next I can put my car magnet in the glove compartment, a bumper sticker under my pillow, and knock on doors using only the power of my mind.  Obama 2012!  (Mumble mumble mumble.)

Aftermath and 80s Day

There are days when we choose to take a moment and reflect on events past, and there are days where such reflection is thrust upon us.  I've been mulling over an odd variety of things the past few days.

I'm relieved the recall election is over.  Despite whatever overblown declarations are being made in the national media, on a local level people seem to be trying to deal with their emotions and just move on.  There was a lot of understandable disappointment on Facebook right after the polls closed, and a welcome lack of gloating from the other side.  (At least among my friends, so this is an admittedly biased sample.)

I am willing to concede that a recall effort under the existing facts was unwarranted.  (However, given the opportunity to vote against someone I disagree with was still something I was willing to indulge in.)  Such efforts should be saved for clear legal failings on the part of our elected officials.  I may not understand why a majority of people in my state approve of this governor and his policies, but I can accept that I must live under them at this time.  I will still speak my mind if I think what is happening is wrong, but I accept the results of the election.  (I expect the same of people who dislike Obama.)

Now that all is said and done, it's clear to me why things got to the point they did.  Passion drove the recall more than legitimacy, and if care had been taken on the other side it could have been avoided.  No one wants to be disrespected and treated like the enemy for simply trying to express what they believe.  No one wants to feel bullied or cornered.

If you believe that dismantling teachers' unions will improve education, then state your case.  I will listen.  I may still disagree, but if I think the motives come from a reasonable place and the majority want to go with those assertions, then I will hope for the best.  I happen to believe dismantling teachers' unions has nothing to do with education and everything to do with political funding, but I would like to be proven wrong.

However, do not go at this issue by calling teachers lazy, and saying the benefits they worked for are undeserved.  This was so hostile and cruel it made people angry.  There are bad and lazy people in every profession, but to demonize teachers as a group was uncalled for.  I'm originally from Detroit and I know about failing schools.  People here don't appreciate just how good the schools in Wisconsin are, and part of that is paying teachers well and giving them a voice.  I see firsthand day after day how hard my kids' teachers work, and I'm grateful for all they've done.  Calling them glorified babysitters was beyond insulting.  No wonder they and the people who appreciate them rose up to defend themselves at the state capitol.

All of us who supported the recall felt attacked on a personal level.  That didn't have to happen.  It shouldn't happen.  I think the governor should have said, "Thank you for agreeing to all of the conditions I asked for that I think will help our state budget, and let's revisit the collective bargaining question next year after seeing how my plan is working."  But at no time was there room for compromise or even a show of interest about why people were upset.  He should have explained himself better and let people feel heard.  That's part of his job.

The week before the recall I got a letter, in error I'm sure, from the Walker campaign asking for money.  I found the letter shocking and aggressive.  It defined all of his opponents in ugly terms.  I was truly horrified that someone who supposedly represents me would be so disrespectful and rude.  I wrote him a letter stating as much.  I'm not a fan of ad hominem attacks or mischaracterizations of Republicans either.  (I don't care about someone's weight or age or hair, I care about their policies.)  I'm not saying there weren't people going at it the wrong way on the anti-Walker side, but it's different when an actual elected official who is supposed to be looking out for my interests in his own way sends a letter into my home essentially telling me to shut up.  That was uncalled for.

So, I want to take the governor at his word that he wants to heal the state.  I want to.  He scares me, though.  Because I'm still waiting for evidence of compassion in his policies.  For instance, trying to kill hospital visitation rights for same-sex couples seems to me to have nothing to do with the economy, or jobs, or taxes, or anything.  It's just government intruding where it doesn't belong.  I want him to explain that to us, and I want to feel that he's listening when some of us say we think it's unjust.  We'll see.  I don't think what he's doing is working, but again, I'd like to be wrong.  I'm not going to root against my own state and my own neighbors just because I don't like the side the ideas came from.  I want us all to succeed.

Okay.  That's the end of my reflection on that.

Now, reflecting back yourself, do you remember way back when you read the title of this post I mentioned 80s day?  Now we're talking some deep reflection.  Back to stirrup pants and leg warmers and preppy shirts and some really big hair.

Aden's class decided for an end of school event to have 80s day.  So I had to educate my daughter in the ways of jelly bracelets and neon colors.  I made her try on one of my Police concert T-shirts that looked pretty cute on her and she acted like she was going to cry.  (The girl was not cut out for an 80s look.)  We consulted Google and I showed her the variety of unfortunate styles to choose from.  We got it down to a hot pink short skirt with an oversized (because its mine) green shirt with a collar (no Izod alligator, though), clip-on hoop earrings, and a headband with a hot pink flower on it.  We also washed her hair and put it in lots of braids to undo in the morning so she will look more like she's had a perm.

I told her, though, that what I wore?  Was pretty much what I'm still wearing: T-shirt and jeans.  I had one Izod shirt in eighth grade, and one neon pink T-shirt in high school.  And I still own my Dream of the Blue Turtles sweatshirt, but never wear it because I want it to look good when it's keeping me warm in the old age home one day.  But fingerless lace gloves?  Parachute pants?  Red jacket with random zippers?  Uh, I didn't think those were a good look at the time.

I remember clearly during spirit week at Ferndale High walking through the commons with my best friend, speculating about what a school 80s day might look like in the future.  Since we knew the 50s and 60s days we were supposed to be participating in probably didn't reflect those times accurately at all.  Poodle skirts may be iconic, but my mom said it's not like everyone had them. 

"What will people wear?" we asked each other.  "It's all so normal, what's there to latch onto?"  We decided neon and anything to do with Michael Jackson, even though that didn't reflect what we had on or what we saw around us.

But boy, looking back on Google with Aden it all flooded over me again--the shoulder pads, the use of color blocking....  There really was a look, wasn't there?  And it wasn't good much of the time.

Aden has her outfit ready to go.  If she consents to letting me post a picture I'll add it.  I did suggest she borrow a Rubik's cube.  "That's something people carried around in the 80s," I said, and then Ian kind of smiled and made a throat clearing noise, and I added, "Well, I carried one around."  (And I still do.  I guess some things are hard to shake from any time.)


UPDATE:  My girl did not take a cube, but she did say I could put up her picture.  I am stunned every time I see her anymore at how grown up she is.  She was a tiny baby in the crook of my arm once.  Hard to imagine.

80s Aden

Recall

On June 5th Wisconsin is holding an election about whether or not to recall the Governor.  He's been in office for about a year and the role he's played in that span of time has proven divisive in our state.  I've become somewhat accustomed to the polarizing effects of politics on the national stage because it's so broad it feels distant.  I don't like it, but it's more theoretical and less personal somehow.  This kind of polarization on a local level is different.  And for many it is deeply personal.

Politically, I think of myself as liberal.  In terms of my personal choices I'm fairly conservative, but I don't believe in imposing my own lifestyle on others because one, that's not fair, and two, that would make the world incredibly dull.  For instance, I believe marijuana should be legalized, but I personally have zero interest in trying it.  (I don't even drink coffee, I am just that boring.)

Truthfully, I'm not sure anymore how other people define the terms liberal and conservative.  The words are charged with unintended meanings and are often just shortcuts to describing other things with derogatory stereotypes.  Here's what they mean to me in their basic, ideal forms:

Conservatism is about preservation, conserving things that are good.  I always think of our local 4th of July celebrations as classically conservative affairs.  I like the tradition of parades and fireworks and I want my kids to have what I had and I hope their kids one day enjoy the same.  I like feeling pride in my country for all the wonderful things about it and I'm glad I was born here.  Conservatives focus on values and traditions worth protecting, and that core informs their opinions.

Liberalism is about freedom to change.  Just because something has been done one way for a long time does not mean it's worth preserving, and just because something works for one person or group does not mean it's appropriate for everyone.  Liberals see things that need fixing and want to employ new approaches so that we can move toward something better.  Some things are too important (like ending the oppression of minorities) to be left to natural forces of change that would take too long to be fair, and sometimes we as a society have to collectively implement those changes. 

By these definitions all of us can to some degree relate to both sides.