Saturday, November 12, 2016

This is why we fight

The morning after the election, I thought about a lot of things.

I thought about James Comey and how my nation's law enforcement apparatus influenced the election.

I thought about Wikileaks (of course they're in Trump's corner, those sex predators gotta stick together, amirite?) and the media and stupid, glib talking heads who chuckled to themselves about what an "interesting" night this was for the Clinton campaign.

I thought about how a hostile foreign power exerted influence in selecting the next ruler of my country.

I thought about the voter suppression in North Carolina, and how the State GOP bragged about it on public media, suppression which was enabled by the evisceration of the Voting Rights Act three years ago.

I thought about a friend's brother on Facebook boasting about how Trump would renegotiate our debts with other countries, which is such a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation that it would have more sense if Trump had said we would pay our creditors in bologna.

I thought about the people who say the establishment needed a kick in the pants to wake up, and I thought about the people saying this wouldn't be the ones paying the price for it, and I thought about the people who said the same thing sixteen years ago, when we also won the popular vote but lost the presidency.

I thought about my wife and daughter crying and holding each other on the floor that morning.

But then I thought about how my daughter was inconsolable an hour after being told the news, and I told her that she had to go to school, because people like Trump want us to give up, and I thought about how she went upstairs and put on her "It's called GIRL POWER for a reason!" t-shirt and put on her game face and grabbed her backpack and went out the door to face the world.

I thought about how it's not over until we give up, and when I'm tempted to back down and let things go because I don't want to make waves, I will think about the girl power t-shirt and the bright and brittle fire in her eyes and I'll stand up and I'll fight back.

It's not over until we give up.

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