Time to Make Peace with the Fight
A little love letter from me to your shattering, post election.
Friends,
Last night I watched the results of the election come in and felt that pit in my stomach that was so familiar. But then, it stopped short of taking me over completely as something else set in. I knew early on that Harris was going to lose the election. I could feel something was off. And then there it was; how drastically we underestimated the deep well of rage— most specifically, white male rage— that has been burning in the belly of this country for years, and that we— women, queer people, disabled people, and everyone else who cares like we do— must radically change the the mantra of our fight for progress, and see it as the drumbeat of our very existence, and not just one we play when we have to.
I was texting with a friend today who is a political reporter who’s been tracking polls since 2000. He said of Trump’s win:
You’ve got a country … and it’s a big country … where wages have been stagnant for 25 years and where growth opportunity and subsidies for development are few and far between.There are no labor protections for us working from our phones at all hours. And there are no recourses for companies off shoring (or AI-ing) their infrastructure.
Broadly, for decades, we’ve all been asked to do more with less.
My interpretation of Trump is that it’s this very nihilistic ‘just kick the can for me’ desperation that even if the guy is gonna cheat, maybe he’ll cheat in their direction and that’s what they need.
I absolutely agree with him. Last night, I found myself more clear-eyed than ever about all of it, and that their fight is here to stay (MAGA and those who voted for Trump) and we must see ours as the same; to, in a way, accept our resistance as a permanent way of thinking and engaging in the world.
Last night, I did not cry, as many were doing at the bar where I was watching the results com in— not a single tear. (There is absolutely nothing wrong with crying, I just was feeling something different.) What I realized is that we need to start thinking differently about our fight for progress, and see it not as something we hope to overcome someday soon, but instead, to make peace with it.
Women have always led resistance, and been at the forefront of these kinds of fights for progress— and guess what? We always will be, in one way or another. The threat of us is our power, and last night, I officially made peace with that truth, and I hope you will consider doing so, too.
As we spend time grieving the monumental loss not only of Kamala Harris’ potential presidency over the coming days, and what will undoubtably become a completely different country soon, I want to leave you with this small prayer, and some words by the extraordinarily brilliant Rebecca Solnit.
Think of the women and men resistance fighters all over the world who have done this work for generations, including right here at home. Think of Susan B. Anthony defying the law when women could not vote (on November 5th, to be exact.) Think of Rosa Parks, of the Cherokee Nation women who came before her. Think of Judy Heumann who fought her entire life for disability rights, Harvey Milk, and Marsha P. Johnson.
Every single one of them made peace with their struggle, and their resistance as a way of life— of living and surviving— in order to keep fighting another day, for progress, and a better world for all.
And that is what we are going to do, friends. One day at a time. Through art. Through community. Through song. Through voice. Through movement— of the body and activism. Through showing up not just in an election cycle, but as a way of life, as a way of showing our durable, accountable, unshakable love.
Here is a video I made speaking the brilliant words of Rebecca Solnit, which felt to me like a poem and a tender call to action. You can also read the words below.
They want you to feel powerless and surrender and let them trample everything and you are not going to let them. You are not giving up, and neither am I. The fact that we cannot save everything does not mean we cannot save anything and everything we can save is worth saving.
You may need to grieve or scream or take time off, but you have a role no matter what, and right now good friends and good principles are worth gathering in. Remember what you love. Remember what loves you. Remember in this tide of hate what love is.
A lot of us are going to come under direct attack, and a lot of us are going to resist by building solidarity and sanctuary. Gather up your resources, the metaphysical ones that are heart and soul and care, as well as the practical ones.
People kept the faith in the dictatorships of South America in the 1970s and 1980s, in the East Bloc countries and the USSR. There is no alternative to persevering, and that does not require you to feel good. You can keep walking whether it's sunny or raining.
Take care of yourself and remember that taking care of something else is part of taking care of yourself, because you are interwoven with the ten trillion things in this single garment of destiny that has been stained and torn, but is still being woven and mended and washed.
How are you all holding up? Please share in the comments if you’d like to. Would love to hear from you.
Love,
Amber
I didn't cry until near the end of Kamala's concession speech. So much care. So much brilliance. So much love and our nation kicked that care in the teeth. I've felt that before in dysfunctional relationships... it's the most painful rejection... the discard of someone's essence, their dearness, their humanity. I appreciate very much this space you hold for us as we grieve and then get back to the work of caring for others, even when they hate us straight to our face.
Thank you for bringing a moment of calm to chaos.