I woke up this morning to what feels like the start of a premise for a dystopian novel. But this isn’t fiction. This is the world in which we are living and it is so much bigger than just the election of a singularly unqualified individual to one of the most powerful positions in the world.
I am at a loss. For weeks I’ve been operating as cautiously optimistic but also incredibly hopeful about the outcome of this presidential election. I introduced cautious optimism following the Brexit vote in the UK, where I’d been a resident from 2010 until February of this year.
My political awareness has grown considerably, living abroad and watching the unrest of the squeezed middle and those who fall on the fringes. I learned how often conservative governments implement policies that criminalise the poor on the false belief that poor people are lazy and wealthy people are not. I watched as changes to the UK benefits system began to kill those it was initially created to support. I watched and learned to understand how animosity breeds hatred and how operating only for the self or those we deem worthy leads to scapegoating and dehumanising entire groups of people. I’ve compared it to what I know of history, systematic oppression, discrimination and genocide to destroy languages, cultures, systems of belief.
My brain is on fire with understanding what all this means.
To begin, it is a license for blatant expressions of discrimination. We saw it following Brexit, and we will see it now. I learned the news of this ‘victory’ and my heart broke. My heart broke for every Muslim living in America. For every person who is not white. For everyone at Standing Rock. For everyone in the Black Lives Matter movement. It breaks for everyone who lives as a woman. It breaks for those who have, for at least a short time, had access to health care that they didn’t before and soon won’t again. It breaks because I am married to a woman, and even if it’s not going to be high on the list, marriage equality could be rolled back.
And that’s just looking at the domestic situation.
As a Canadian, I could be complacent. I could say it’s happening over there and it’s not my problem — even as someone married to an American. I know we can reverse the paperwork we’re doing to get me a green card and start the process for her to come to Canada. For ourselves, in our individual relationship and situation, we are incredibly lucky. As someone who is white I could shrug and say it’s not that big of a deal, or it won’t be so bad. But it’s not about me. It’s so much bigger than me and the anxiety that’s been boiling in the pit of my stomach since my wife told me the news at 6:30 this morning.
I may not be an American, but from outer space the boundaries between us are arbitrary. After considering the legitimate fear and uncertainty of so many millions of Americans who woke up today to find that their country chose hatred and fear over opportunity and change, I think of the even bigger picture.
There is the very real possibility of war. Trump expressed his admiration for authoritarians on multiple occasions. He views running a country like running a business — for which his track record offers no sense of hope. He sees oppressive laws and acts of intimidation as ‘getting things done’.
Then there is the environment. Up until yesterday, I was also cautiously optimistic about what was happening at Standing Rock, about the general movement towards environmental consciousness. Now I feel like I’ve just entered the ‘non-smoking’ section of an open-plan restaurant. Being Canadian amounts to nothing when we are all on the same globe sharing the same atmosphere and reliant on the same natural resources, many of which are finite or not easily cleaned once sullied with toxic pollutants.
I am well aware that acting out of hatred or anger is exactly why things are where they are right now. I refuse to contribute to the hatred in the world, and I want only to invite others to rise above it, to see that they are better than that, worth more than that.
I am grateful to have a voice and access to the Internet where I can make it be heard. I am lucky to be a woman today and not 100 years ago. I am privileged to be a citizen of Canada. But I am also wary because I am a woman, because I am gay and because discrimination hurts everyone.
When things fall apart it is frightening. Uncertainty is uncomfortable, and something we spend a lot of time trying to get away from. It’s groundless and can feel like we are helpless. Pema Chodron speaks about this beautifully with regards to New York City just after the 9/11 attacks. She talks about how, when everyone is experiencing that kind of groundlessness, they realise that all they can do is take care of each other.
It benefits no one only to look out for myself — indeed, that is the very mentality that has created this toxicity. It also benefits no one if I choose to do nothing because I think, as just one person, that I don’t matter. Knowing I cannot singularly enact the change I would like to see, I ask myself what I can do with my voice, my embodiment, my place as a component part of something much bigger than I am. How can I be of the greatest benefit?
Individual agency matters because none of us is outside the system. Knowing this I set the intention to relate with and to understand. May I remember that my personal capacity for empathy and compassion does not mean we are not all equally deserving of both. May I use my voice when it is necessary and listen so others feel heard. May I not look away. May I rejoice and remember to be grateful for the opportunities I have to support, to uplift, to empower.
May we lift each other up, rising above hatred. May we drop our alarm systems so we can hear all sides and experiences. May we call people in instead of calling them out. May we collaborate for change that benefits everyone.
This is not about me.
This is not about you.
It’s about us.
All of us.
We need to take care of each other.
First of all, listening to On Being has been immensely helpful for me as a writer, an activist and a human being. I recommend it all but for today, and specific to this post I suggest listening to Ruby Sales, Mahzarin Banaji, Natasha Trethewey & Eboo Patel and Mirabai Bush.
I also recommend The Ezra Klein show and most notably the episode where he interviews Arlie Hochschild, which I also linked to in the text above.
You can also listen to the episodes of Everything is Workable where I speak about basic goodness, compassion and how to keep your heart open.
For reading material I suggest ‘The Way of Tenderness’ by Zenju Earthlyn Manuel, ‘The Power of an Open Question’ by Elizabeth Mattis-Namgyel and ‘When Things Falls Apart’, ‘The Places That Scare You’ and ‘Practicing Peace in Times of War’ by Pema Chodron.
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Originally published on Medium