Since the election, I’ve been hearing from various sources—opinion pieces and social media, mostly—that our country needs to pull together and work with what we have. Obviously not everyone feels that way, including me (#notmypresident), and there have been many protests, but I’m afraid that conciliation will win out. That we’ll be told “It’s time to move on, to heal.”

I’m all for healing and compassion for all, even those whose views I find abhorrent. But by compassion, I mean acknowledging that even bigots have feelings, may have families who love them, etc., and that I will not knowingly cause these people harm. It does not mean that I meet them halfway, that “there are two sides to every story.” There are probably zillions of sides to a story if you use your imagination, but it doesn’t mean every side should be given equal weight. Doing so, in the case of racist, sexist, homophobic narratives, normalizes hatred and emboldens those who already hate. This, of course, has been an ongoing problem that is only accelerating. Since November 9, the Southern Poverty Law Center has received 437 reports of harassment.

Noah Fischer @ Hyperallergic expresses far more eloquently what I’m trying to say.

It is not the duty of private citizens (or anyone, actually) to automatically line up behind someone who has scapegoated the most vulnerable people in the country and threatened peaceful protesters and his political opponent with violence in order to win — exhibiting the unmistakable qualities of fascism.

…

This turn away from business as usual and toward collective resistance looms in a very real sense as the only hope for progressive values concerning gender, race, the protection of the environment, and also economic equity.

Thousands gathered at Lake Merritt yesterday to peacefully protest racism, sexism, Islamophobia and other forms of discrimination and cruelty. At 3:45, I held hands with people I’d never met and we collectively hoped for a better world, with many ideas floated for taking action.

I remember marching against the Iraq war and in support of or in protest of many other causes. This time feels different; never has the idea of dissent being stifled felt quite this real and immediate.

I have two ideas* going through my mind. One, love will save us. Two, don’t negotiate with terrorists. Meaning, don’t give a inch to anyone who voices racism, sexism , homophobia and hate of any kind.

My actions: pray, meditate, volunteer, write, create, console, accept consolation, donate, act with kindness. BUT: do not appease and do not stay silent.

Another action: read and share intelligent news and analysis.

A very smart friend sent me the following article by Masha Gessen. Among all of the post-election autopsies, I find these words some of the wisest.

*That is such bullshit. I have lots of ideas, but I’m trying to stay focused.

Here’s something I wrote two days after the election (slightly edited), when I was raw and numb. Yes, I can be both simultaneously.

Exhausted, drained, heartbroken.

I know that goodness and love will prevail. I know that this is a beautiful planet, and even through my despair, I see beauty every day.

Last night, I spent time with my awesome, brilliant and adorable grandbaby, watching him run around, yell and laugh, and helping him turn his Transformer from a robot back to a car (Who knew? I have zero mechanical ability, but he had faith in me, and I did it.) He’s two and would make a better president than that racist, misogynistic man that half the country thought would be a refreshing change, or as I see it, fuck this country up even more than it already is, trash the legacy of our first Black president, and give women, POC, LGBTQ people, the disabled, and anyone who cares about decency a big slap across our collective face.

So, yes, I’m angry. I’m also terribly sad, but I know I will be hopeful again, too. People devastated by this election are doing the best they can. Some need to look for hope, some need to rage, some need to grieve, some need a big fucking margarita, some need to cry, and some need to do all of the above. I need to do a little, or a lot, of each, especially cry. There’s room for all of it, my emotions will keep swirling and coexisting. I will probably keep crying, keep being angry, even as I regain some hope and take action.

I’m not joking about my grandson, btw. He’d need good advisers (possibly Daniel Tiger and Super Grover, who’d be preferable to what I’ve seen of DT’s list), but all presidents do. He might get a little upset when he doesn’t get his way, but he quickly recovers and is laughing again within minutes. And he’s never cruel.

I’m still raw and imagine I will be for some time. That’s not a bad thing. We can move forward, even with broken hearts. For me, it’s not about regaining all my hope and then being able to take action. For one, I’m not sure how much time we have. I’m going to use my voice as long as I can, even if I’m despairing. It’s only one voice, but it’s one of many.