“you are who you elect.” (michael ramirez – the washington post )
dismay doesn’t begin to describe it. devastated doesn’t begin to describe it.
the betrayal of any goodness is rampant. over half of this country voted for it. whatever your flagship policy issue was – when you stepped up to that voting booth – it should have absolutely paled in comparison to the potential of the cruelty that is now coming, the cruelty you chose.
in your vote you have eliminated all options for meeting in the aisle, for affording change that would have addressed your concerns as well as mine. in your vote you have forever undermined the constitution of this country, undermined democracy, paving the way for authoritarianism, people gleeful to have absolute power and control. in your vote you have done away with – trampled – the rights of women, of minorities, of the LGBTQ community. in your vote you have decimated healthcare, social security, medicare, education. in your vote you, who have descended from immigrants, gallingly voted to remigrate the country into whiteness, into extreme nationalism. in your vote you have opted to give your complicit nod to the alignment of this country with dictators and tyrants around the world. in your vote you have doomed any hope for our physical planet. in your vote you have thrust this country backwards.
but silly me. why would i spell out what your vote meant? you already knew. and you didn’t care.
i did not know your heart was quite this cold. i am horrified. i fear i no longer know you.
the canvasser walked up the driveway toward us. “well, there’s no doubt who you are voting for,” she stated and then continued, lifting up the democratic presidential candidate who had inspired her to hit the sidewalks, to knock on doors and talk to people.
“we already voted,” i smiled and told her, so she could breathe for a moment, replenish her energy and move on to the next house, with the hope that she could make a difference in this unparalleled election, an election of utmost importance to our country and its populace. i thanked her as she smiled wearily, turned and walked on.
yes. it is obvious who we voted for. we have zero need for this choice to be secretive.
we exercised our right – to vote – granted by amendments to the constitution of these united states.
we exercised our civic dedication – our duty – to democracy, voting for the most appropriate candidate to be president of these united states, the candidate who will uphold and protect that very democracy.
we exercised our right to vote to protect those rights, our freedoms, the constitution, its amendments, to protect these united states.
yes. we voted for kamala harris and tim walz. with gratitude for them.
because any other vote is a vote to undermine the privileges of freedom we – every single one of us – have in this country, to undermine the compassionate humanity we all share, to undermine the democracy of america.
we are truly – like mika brzezinski said – ” counting down to the election of America’s life.”
if there are no alarm bells going off in your head, you have not been paying attention, you have not read the intentions of the maga party, you have sloughed off the reprehensible words of the maga candidate.
if you are not trembling as you think about the outcome of this election, you have not elicited any part of your good conscience, your moral center, the part of you that cares about this country or its inhabitants. you, instead, have bought into hatred and violence. you have abdicated your character, your integrity to the abhorrent character of this maga leader. and, if i knew you before, i don’t know you now.
if you don’t feel like sobbing thinking about the darkness that could come with the maga intentions of the maga candidate, his cronies, project 2025, every single mean-spirited, depraved, cruel, sadistic undermining of rights, freedoms, opportunity, you have closed off your heart. you clearly don’t care what happens to the people of this country – of which you are one.
i am stunned we are here, at this nightmarish moment in the history of the united states. it feels surreal to even try and wrap my head around the unconscionable, ghoulish possibility that we – free americans – could find ourselves in a fascist regime under the authoritarian rule of this unscrupulous maga candidate and his drooling-for-power contemptible sycophants.
we are there – at the place where we all decide how this country will move forward. forward, not backward. forward to better, hopeful, joyful, united.
and so, in this moment, we could talk about so many pieces of this decision, so many aspects of the candidates, so many policies, so many ramifications.
we could talk about the maga candidate and his historically misogynistic, racist, bigoted views on life.
we could talk about his repulsive imitation of a disabled reporter.
we could talk about the many, many women who have accused him of sexual assault.
we could talk about his silver spoon, his elitist attitude, his entitlement.
we could talk about his lack of compassion, his clear lack of empathy, his lack of regard for the populace of this country – people – some of whom he refers to as “the enemy within”.
we could talk about his corruption.
we could then talk about his incompetence, his hateful vitriol, his obscene handling of the pandemic, his lack of respect for the vulnerable, for people different than himself.
we could talk about his felony convictions, the civil suit jury decision in which he was found guilty of sexual abuse. we could talk about his multiple standing indictments.
we could talk about his ad nauseum lies, his utter nonsense about disproved election fraud, his inciting of a brutal insurrection on this nation’s capitol.
we could talk about his lack of vested and intelligent interest in addressing human-based climate change that will affect this planet and the lives of all those who follow.
we could talk about his depravity, his lack of coherence, his inability to speak to his policies, his deliberate weave off-topic, an avoidance of spilling his actual intentions.
we could talk about the people he surrounds himself with – all with agendas of the most vile nature.
we could talk about how his maga supporters are not hearing – really hearing, really grokking – that he will destroy the affordable care act, decimate healthcare in this country.
we could talk about how project 2025 will slash medicare options – making narrow advantage plans the only option, eliminating supplemental plan choices of care, places of care, medications of care.
we could talk about how his cronies – who will have positions of power – will create hardship for the people of these United States. we could talk about how the present economy – under the present administration – of which other industrialized countries are envious – will be demolished under their selfish thumbs.
we could talk about how maga will run social security into the ground. we could talk about tariffs that will add mountains of cost to our daily bills, about taxes that will serve the super-rich and undermine everyone else. we could talk about how this might affect you and me, regular people.
we could talk about the elimination of women’s rights. we could talk about how this despicable, women-abuser will continue down his already-well-established path eliminating the right of women to choose, the right of women to seek reproductive health care. we could wonder how else this maga candidate wishes to drown the rights of women, what else he wishes to do to push women under, to eliminate their voice. “whether women like it or not.”
we could talk about his appalling intentions against the LGBTQ community, his limitations on who people may love, marry, with whom they may have children, basic rights of every single person regardless of sexual orientation or identification. we could talk about his spreading of lies about transgenders, his repugnant and distorted-from-reality rhetoric.
we could talk about how his extreme nationalist view runs scared of and runs rampant over any race other than his own whiteness. we could talk about his egregious plans for mass deportation of immigrants; we could talk about his zeal for remigration. we could wonder about this kind of loathsome animosity, this kind of sadism.
we could talk about his kowtowing to vicious autocrats. we could talk about his alliances with dictators around the world, his bowing to them, his ego hungry for their strokes. we could wonder about – or do we intuitively know – the tyrannical direction in which he wishes to take this precious country.
we could talk about his unhinged dedication to revenge, to retribution, to perpetuation of the ugliest ugly.
we could talk about his stoking of division, his glee at chaos, his embrace of violence, his utter evil.
but – really – we are merely three days away from this election. and who has frickin’ time for all that?!!!
don’t bother comparing policies now. don’t fool yourself into thinking that policies are the issues.
we are at a place like never in recent years – a choice-point – this very election – that threatens the very tenets of this country.
so now it’s time to cut to the chase.
because it clearly all boils down to one thing, one choice.
do we wish for this country to continue to grow forward as a democracy?
or do we wish for this country to sink into the depths of fascism?
when you drive almost 1900 miles around the southwest – on backroads, highways, interstates – you get to see some real life.
we drove from nevada to utah to arizona and back to nevada- a big loop. there was so much to see – even just out the window of the suburban stuffed with six people and six suitcases, six carry-on backpacks or tote bags, six water bottle koozies and lots of snacks. there were many lessons along the way as we drove through small towns, farms, ranchland, desert, canyonlands.
there were people. people living in these small towns, on these farms, on this ranchland, in the desert, homesteading by the canyonlands. real live people, an exclamation point of diversity.
i had the good fortune of meeting the woman who opened her home to us – through airbnb – a half hour or so south of the grand canyon. hers was not a five-star hotel. hers was not a resort-amenity-rich spa. hers was not a photo-shoot instagram-worthy house of smart finishes and interior design. hers was a home – her beloved home to which she was soon going to return to live.
you knew as you drove down the gravel road – past the mobile homes and modular houses. you knew as you pulled into her dirt driveway and pulled up to the porch, a little worse for wear. you knew as you drove in and the outbuildings scattered within the split-rail fencing were numerous. you knew as you walked in – the laundry room off the porch door – and the floor was worn. you knew as you strolled about in her home, filled with antiques, charming tchotchkes and quirky notes everywhere that explained how things worked or invited you in to her life.
she pointed at one of the outbuildings and told me that was to become her she-shed. she pointed at what looked like a pile of rubble and told me that was the beginning of a barn for her husband and his workbench. she was so excited to tell me that we were the last guests at her home and that after a couple weeks she and her husband would return there, would move back into their forever home, would be looking forward to the peace that space, that horizon, the mountains in the distance, the desert up close and personal afforded them. this was her sea-to-shining-sea. this place represented her freedom, the place she would heal from several medical challenges, the place she would grow old, the place she truly loved with all her heart. i wanted to weep for her happiness.
this is the time – RIGHT NOW – when we all get to vote for the place that represents our freedom. this is the time – RIGHT NOW – when we all get to vote for healing our nation from the division that has been stoked by the voices in maga-land. this is the time – RIGHT NOW – when we all get to vote so that we might grow old in a democracy, so that our children and their children can grow old in a democracy. this is the time – RIGHT NOW – that we all get to vote for a place we love with all our heart.
it matters not if we have a fancy home or a plain home. what matters is that we are grateful for this democracy that houses whatever home it is we have, wherever it is we live in these united states . what matters is that we are grateful for the freedoms, the constitution, the checks and balances of power, the mutual respect of each other – our sameness and our differences, the ability to have a voice.
we drove about 1900 miles. we saw the ultra-fancy and we saw the hovels in the middle of nowhere. we marveled at the uncanny ability of people to be resilient, to tenaciously cling to life and livelihood, regardless of their circumstance. we dreamed that this country would continue to address hardship – in all its forms – and that we would continue to step only forward.
we spoke about the airbnbs we stayed at. there were five, all different. this home – in the desert and unlike any of the others – touched my heart. this woman did the best she could to offer up her house to others who are traveling, to invite people in, to envelop them in warmth and the reassurance of home, albeit temporarily. i have so much respect for her – her unapologetic sharing of her home. she offered her beloved and imperfect space to complete strangers, trusting we would care for it. it was so much more than the option that offered a stark, austerely modern building, sans thoughtful gestures. it was a slice of real life.
real life is a country filled to the brim with people – all different. real life is a country that stands by e pluribus unum – out of many, one.
real life is meeting people – across this country – everyone different, in every different kind of circumstance – knowing we are all in this together.
real life is recognizing the urgency we face. it is being honest about what we could potentially lose and to whom we could lose it.
real life is RIGHT NOW – when it is completely and utterly delusional to think that everything would be better if the maga agenda wins, if hatred and bigotry and extreme nationalism and misogyny and the undermining of democracy win.
real life would never be the same. this country – our home – would never be the same.
if you have driven on independence pass – route 82 in colorado – you will note that there are few guardrails. very few. the times i have navigated this stunningly beautiful drive have been somewhat white-knuckling. the road is steep, narrow and twisty. to stay safe, you must pay attention.
there were spots at the grand canyon with guardrails. but, of course, they weren’t everywhere. the national park service fully expects that you will act out of respect for the danger, that you will be responsible, that you will exercise your own guardrails for your safety.
maturity requires that of us in life – to act out of respect for danger, to be responsible, to exercise our own guardrails.
and it is time to do just that in this election. past time, actually. but now is better than not.
the maga candidate is spelling out – TELLING us – what his second presidency would look like. he is spelling out the kind of atrocities to which he subscribes. he is spelling out the kind of country this would become.
and he will have no guardrails. there will be no one to check his shameful actions, his vile words, his heinous revenge, his cruelty, his brutality, the sick agenda of his cronies, his abomination of all that is american.
do you recognize that he is spelling out the looming danger? do you recognize that he is blatantly – fascistly – describing the regime he would institute in this land of democracy?
do you recognize that NOTHING will be the same? do you recognize that we will all suffer – including you – because of whatever uncontrollable rage it is you have, because you are aligning yourself with this vitriolic agenda, because you are jumping on the hatred bandwagon?
do you recognize yourself now? are you standing in your integrity? are you one of those ready to participate in obliterating the constitution of these United States?
are you LISTENING to what this maga candidate is spewing, to what his agenda is promising?
where is your respect for this democracy? where is your mature sense of responsibility? where are your guardrails? are you paying attention or are you lost in some kind of eddy of swirling anger and hate?
the national park system prints their policy in their maps and on their brochures. it states: “your safety is your responsibility.”
we stand at a crossroad in this country. a place where we need to act out of respect for danger, to be responsible, to exercise our own guardrails for the safety of this country.
it is time to be mature.
your safety – and the safety of your children, your grandchildren, your family, your community, your state, your country – is at absolute risk. the threat is REAL.
it is a dangerous, dangerous road.
and i am white-knuckling, hoping you are paying attention, hoping your guardrails are in place.
it’s kind of traditional for this group. our up-north gang is superb at pontoon-boating together. so it seemed like a given we would pontoon on lake powell.
we had spent a lot of time in the rented suburban, driving from one iconic national park to another, surfing the canyonlands of this country – kind of an overview of the wildly beautiful. the idea of being in a boat together was enticing, particularly magical in the middle of the desert.
it was completely different than long lake and bass lake – connecting lakes in northern wisconsin. with awe-inspiring rock formations lining the fingers of this lake, we cruised around – hours disappearing into what seemed mere minutes. stunning us around every corner.
to say that we were overwhelmed by all the intense beauty we saw on our trip is to not be able to put words to it. the incredible vistas were mind-numbingly vast, gorgeous, pride-inducing. not enough adjectives.
here we all were – good friends out in the southwest. we had spoken about this trip for quite some time. some serious health events got in the way, so actually being there was an absolute celebration of life – you could not help but feel grateful not only for everything we were seeing, but grateful that we were able to see it all – together.
this america – with sea-to-shining-sea natural gifts – was the america of which we were proud. this america – that encouraged us to explore, to take to the road, to travel, to have limitless opportunity – was the america of which we were proud. this america – and this was the bottom line for our trip together – that had access to excellent health care which helped in the serious life events, that made it possible for us to stand on the edges of these canyons – was the america of which we were proud. this america – teeming with tourists and languages we didn’t understand – was the america of which we were proud. this america – with so much diversity, so much to learn, to see, to experience – was the america of which we were proud.
i am a native new yorker. i have been to – the iconic – madison square garden (msg) many times. there was the time – during my horse-crazy phase (which incidentally hasn’t ever really ended) – when my parents took me to the national horse show, probably around 1968 or ’69. there was the time i went to the john denver concert in the later 70s. and there was the circus a little later. more concerts and events i can’t even remember. it is – as stated on their website – “a celebrated center of New York life…with an appearance at the worlds most famous arena often representing a pinnacle of an athlete’s or performer’s career.”
i was horrified to see footage of the maga rally held there – on the pinnacle stage of a performer’s career – this past sunday.
what america is this?
there are no words to describe the ultra-ugliness, the bold hatred, the disrespect, the dystopian rhetoric, the clear fascist intent of this rally. it was despicable in every way. i am not tapped out for adjectives like i was in the canyonlands of this beautiful country. i am tapped out for adjectives that adequately describe the deplorable nature of this unforgivable rally.
the intent of the maga candidate and his sycophants is obvious. it is not in question. there is no denying it. it is in plain view.
but you can vote against it.
and so, i ask you this:
are you still undecided? are you still planning on voting for this grossly incompetent maga candidate? do his words – and the words of his platform and his cronies make you proud? are you ready for an authoritarian state of being, for the crushing of this democracy, for cruel undermining and undeterred marginalization, for the treasonous demolition of america, the beautiful? is this what you want?
and, if you are still undecided, if you are planning on throwing away everything – every single thing iconic about the democracy of this country, if you are planning on voting for the candidate who is making you – YOU – complicit in making the united states of america a fascist regime, what in the hell are you thinking?
standing under the desert night sky – zillions of stars and the milky way just lingering out there above me. stunning. it was like an umbrella of humility. we are so very tiny, after all.
yet, on this clear night, on the border of arizona and utah, i stood holding hands with my husband on this stargazing deck, merely feet from dear friends. i thought about recent photos our son had posted of the starry sky in utah while exploring with our daughter. i could feel the love i had for each of them – it felt enormous – and yet, i am so tiny, after all.
last week i was taken by ambulance to the emergency room. i have never been treated by 911 paramedics and firemen before, nor have i ever been in an ambulance. but the situation seemed pretty dire and david needed back-up from people who had medical and emergency knowledge.
in the emergency room, i was struck both by how many people were present for me and how many people needed care. each person treating me was empathetic and caring; each one made me feel like they had true concern for what was happening.
and no one asked me about my political stance before they treated me.
instead, i was one star in the sky and they were each nearby stars. no one was greater than the other. we were all in it together, working with each other to a common goal.
in the period of time i was at the emergency room, two dedicated nurses, a doctor, an x-ray tech, other aides all assisted in attempting to figure out what was happening. hours later, i was grateful for each of them, for their expertise, their comprehensive care, their kindness.
this is the world i wish to live in…where we are all equal stars in a vast sky full of different stars. where we are all working together. where we have compassion and concern for each other, where we strive for everyone to be well.
this is the world i wish to live in…where rage doesn’t exist, where no one makes excuses for bigotry, where people bring their best and do the best they can for each other, no one belittles others, no one dehumanizes any one else – regardless of their gender, their race, their ethnicity, their sexual orientation or identification, their religion, their socioeconomic status.
it was no joke going to the hospital in an ambulance. everything most important to me was needlenose-pointedly front and center in my mind. i was scared and i was counting completely on others.
and i carried this from my experience – now, as i heal from all of it – reinforcing we need live this way. like we are stars in the sky – indiscernibly no bigger or brighter than the rest – all part of the enormous galaxy – all in it together.
we need hold each other up, lift each other up, live present to the moment, hold joy as our north star.
the opposite is toxic.
a punitive, uncaring, narcissistic, demeaning, rights-stripping, rage-filled, hateful, vengeful, limited world is a waste of time.
to say i am beside myself would be to minimize this moment in history.
what i can’t understand is that this whole ENTIRE country is not beside itself.
what i can’t understand is that half this country is voting for a candidate who has no intention of furthering democracy, no intention of goodness, every intention of autocratic power, the demolition of human rights, acts seeking revenge and retribution.
what i can’t understand is the explaining-away – the sane-washing – the absolute worship of this incoherent, unworthy, unhinged, unfit maga candidate.
what i can’t understand is the hatred, the hideously ugly maga agenda.
what i can’t understand are members of this populace who are unswerving, unconcerned about fascism, about autocratic governing, about abolishing the constitution of this country.
we are the generation that has this moment in our hands. we are the people.
please consider reality.
stop sloughing off all the warning signs that we are standing on a dangerous political precipice.
stop viewing through rose-colored adoring glasses this candidate who could literally give not one sh*t about you – no matter who you are.
stop sickeningly acting like this maga candidate is the second coming. subscribing to that is an insult to your intelligence, an insult to the universe and to any deity you might believe in.
decide if you want fascism or democracy. and, if you decide fascism, research what that really means – for you, your family, your community, your state, your country. and then ask yourself why you would choose such tyrannical ultranationalist extreme ideology.
vote with conscience and with morality, knowing that one day you will no longer stand on this earth but you will have made a difference for those who came behind you, you will have created the world they will live in.
choose that world with great deliberation, meticulously, very, very carefully.
“we can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.” (james baldwin)
i would add – or unless your disagreement is rooted in the oppression and denial of the humanity and right to exist of people you purport to care about – people in your beloved family, in your cherished community.
growing up, there were straw placemats in a circle around the perimeter of our kitchen table. each one had inked initials in the bottom corner – to designate whose placemat it was. ba, ea, wa, ka, sha, they read. in some moment, a guest circled around the table, reading them aloud, in order. “sha-ba-ea-wa-ka,” he read. and then, more quickly, “shabaeawaka!”
shabaeawaka became our family’s shortcut of the combination of our names – my mom always lovingly referring to the moniker and telling the story of its origin.
shabaeawaka – in all the ups and downs of a regular family – became a synonym for invincible ties, for family-sticking-together.
my sweet momma, even in the last moments i saw her, believed with her whole heart in the devotion of this family to each other. she believed in kindness and generosity, in acceptance and goodness, in joy and positivity, in love no-matter-what.
my sweet poppo – a mostly quiet man – died three years before my momma. he wasn’t one of those dads who would sit you down and bestow wisdoms upon you. but i could feel his staunch support of me throughout my life…as a child, as a young adult, as i finally made my way into my artistry, as a parent.
my momma stayed in their house in florida on the little lake as long as she physically could. she surrounded herself with the familiar of their lives together, always missing the actual presence of my dad, lonely for him. the empty vase – the one my poppo kept filled with grocery store flowers – stood in the foyer, an acknowledgment of unwelcome change.
but my sweet momma – well – she kept on. and as it became obvious she would need to leave her home and move into assisted living she chose to give away things from her home. the dining room table went to a family of immigrants who didn’t have a table at which to eat. her blue leather sofa went to a family across the street. my momma was not discerning. people in need of something were precisely the people to whom she wanted to give those things. even in her grief of moving, her generosity and love of others prevailed.
i did not feel the need – nor did i have the logistical ability – to fill rooms with items of my parents after my momma’s move or even after she died. but i do have remembrances of them. and i have their dna.
mostly, i have the ideal they taught me – that no matter what, you stick by your family, you uphold each other, you protect each other, you love each other. in no uncertain terms, my mom and my dad would stand tall next to each of us, buoying us and believing in us – the lesson of acceptance – no matter what – of the right to exist, to sustain, to thrive.
i know – without a doubt – they have cheered on my life – in all its phases, in its ups and downs. i know – without a doubt – they have cheered on my daughter’s courageous and adventurous spirit finding home in the mountains, my son and his incredible and cherished LGBTQ community in the city, around the world. i know – without a doubt – they would support them to the mat, thwarting anything that might come between them and their freedoms as americans, as human beings. i know this not only because it was how i was raised, but this is what shabaeawaka is. it is the legacy of shabaeawaka.
and so i wonder what they are thinking now.
i suspect they are on board with james baldwin.
there were times of disagreement, yes. my quiet dad could get rather loud in moments. my sweet momma could push back on inequality, on the crushing of human rights, on evil.
but all was ok if the basics were still in place, if the disagreement – in the words of james baldwin – was not rooted in the oppression of them or their loved one, if it did not deny their humanity or the humanity of their loved one, if it did not undermine their right to exist or their loved one’s right to exist. those were the basics and the basics of any faith i ever learned from them.
I wonder what they are thinking now as they – from a plane of existence far away – watch this election, as they watch the unthinkable, as they watch oppression and the denial of humanity and right to exist on the up-close-and-personal do-we-love-each-other line, as they witness the undermining – the throwing away – of the tenets of their precious shabaeawaka.
i don’t know where the placemats went.
i just know i don’t need the actual placemats to remember what they meant.
reverse threading 