Oh, Beloved...
Someone once fumbled up the saying, “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” It seems that America (and I do mean that in the collective sense of the word) didn’t learn her lesson. After serving his first four years in office, a term riddled with immature insults and divisive rhetoric, grotesque policies that made the wealthy wealthier, and a disastrous pandemic response that led to the death of more than a million Americans (more than any country in the world - talk about being great!), we said, “Cool! Welcome back, Fuhrer.”
When this week’s election results came in, I was more than numb, but I wasn’t angry. Absolutely disheartened, yes. But angry? No. Disgusted? Truly. But I did write about Cup “Ish”, so since Wednesday, I have been giving myself some grace and will continue to do so. I don’t think people understand that folks like me who took the position of decency and stability over decay and destruction didn’t want to be right, and because I don’t want to speak for anyone else, I’ll just speak about my heart. I will always stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. I would never embrace a bully, and a bully would never embrace me. I voted for and believed that the Harris/Walz ticket would save our democracy, and I believed that there were more decent people in this country than there were deplorable. Yes, Hillary had it right: deplorable was the correct adjective, but I was mistaken. I honestly believed that there were more gallon-sized people here than there were cup-sized people. I had forgotten cups can only hold so much, and so they can only do cup-sized shit. I shouldn’t have expected so much from cups, but hope is a hell of a drug, and I had lots of it. I realized this week that looking for gallon-sized work from cup-sized individuals is nasty work. I am, however, a quick study.
I forgive myself for expecting more of my countrymen, this includes family, friends, co-workers (immediate and extended, past and present), who voted for the end of democracy. You want it, you’ve got it. Over the years, I hope you learned how to cook, that you are familiar with spices and other various seasonings, and that you know when to add and not add raisins, because my help ends here. I wish you well in the life that you have chosen. Please do not play the games that many in the MSM and other political pundits did by trying to twist my words into something more than what is presented here. I said what I said. This does not mean that I love any of you any less. It means that you walk that way, and I will walk this way. Yes, sweet love, go that way… over there.
Choosing hate over love, exclusion over inclusion, conspiracy over science, and individuality over community is not like picking something to eat off of a menu, as a meal to sustain you for a short while. The choice this country made in picking a dictatorship over democracy has life-altering, and in some cases, life-ending consequences. One of my daughter’s classmates received one of those viral text messages telling her what time to report to pick cotton. How dare any of you think that this election wouldn’t have immediate, real-world consequences? Spare me the “I didn’t think that would happen to blah, blah, blah…” The point was that at best, you didn’t think or at worst, you didn’t care. So, please understand that I will always love you and that I respect your decision. Please permit me the courtesy of respecting my decision to work differently when you come around. We’re good.
Because I believe in living in purpose and that my steps are ordered, I could never stop pouring out onto others. My throat chakra is open, and I can’t seem to stop the flood of words that keep coming. So, I won’t stop giving this medicine that lives inside of me. It was given to me to give away, and right now, my folks and I need some healing. To that end, I have to be even more intentional in where I pour out. Too many in this country said, “Nah, I’m good with hate. No more love here, please.” So, I’ll oblige them and give of my time and energy elsewhere. My community of Black women and men, especially, and those who love democracy, fairness, and justice need this affection and attention. To them I say, “Fam, I’ll see y’all on the other side. Holla at your girl!” For the rest of you? Oh, beloved… Again, I wish you well in the life you have chosen. Petty much? Absolutely.
Hope is a Helluva drug