Everyone will have words today. You know it, I know it. Loud, angry, panicked, heartbreaking words of disbelief; triumphant, jeering, chaotic voices of hatred but also hope.
Today, these are the words I need to set free from the brown female body I live in so I can move forward and turn the fear running through my body like electricity into action:
I’m going full-on Pollyanna.
If I have to play the fucking Glad Game to remind myself of what’s good in the world every goddamn day, well that’s what I’m gonna do. No complaining about the election (unless I have a really great joke) – not in public, anyway – no moping around, waiting for the worst to happen to this brown, female body. If shit goes down in this country – which is really the only direction it can go now – I have to be ready to spring into action and push the pendulum in the other direction. I can’t be one of those people who loses and then spends the next four years alienating everyone with my insufferable ire. In two years, campaigning for re-election begins, meaning we have work to do.