I voted for Kamala Harris. I really wanted her to be the next president because of who she is as a human being. I've been drawn to her since she first became a Senator but she really captured my heart during the confirmation hearing of Brett Kavanaugh. She was straight forward, firm, pulling no punches. She was taking a stand against the Patriarchy. "Can you think of any laws that give the government the power to make decisions about the male body?" She was the feminine power we can harness to change the world. She reminded me of who I strive to be.
And so I, like many, was crushed when she lost. I woke up the morning after the election numb. I couldn't really feel anything, just sat on the couch staring into space. I turned to the group chats with groups of women friends that had started the night before. We checked in on each other, consoled each other, reminding each other not to lose hope, promising to pick up the torch and press onward after giving ourselves time to grieve. I went to a garden center and bought some plants. Something about putting my fingers in the dirt helps me come back to myself. But I still felt pretty numb.
It was only later that day, watching her concession speech, I was finally able to cry. The refrain "we get the leaders we deserve" rang in my ears. I really wish we deserved her. I wish we deserved the way she loves and embodies the American Dream. There is a way that Black Women show up and love that blows me away. There is a depth, a ferocity balanced with tenderness that just strikes me so deep.
I think back to the mother of one of my childhood friends. I was 12 years old and staying at her house and unexpectedly got my period but was too embarrassed to say anything. She found out and so gently and delicately helped me. I think about touring with the gospel choir at Boston University. We would stay in people's homes, a few of us in each place. The woman who wound up with the 4 white chicks in the choir got up at 4 am to make us homemade biscuits and a huge hot breakfast before we had to get on our early morning bus. I think about my colleagues Keisha and Janet who, after Trayvon Martin was murdered, so tenderly taught this white girl about the other "talk" Black parents have with their Black sons.
I once saw a play about the Garden of Eden where God was played by a Black woman. I'd abandoned my Christian religion by that time and wasn't sure I even believed in God anymore, but after watching that play, God as a Black Woman felt as accurate a representation to me as I had ever felt. To Black Women everywhere, I'm sorry. I'm sorry white women continue to fail you. I've spent the last 8 years trying to figure out why we do and, while I have some ideas, I am so very sorry I haven't figured out how to turn answers into change yet. Maybe by the next time.
In the meantime, thank you for all the ways you continue to breathe life into democracy more than any other group in this country, even as this country continues to fail you. Thank you for loving the democracy that has yet to love you in the way you deserve. That's true leadership, being the change you wish to see. I hope one day as a country we will be truly deserving of you.
Comentários