It's no secret that we're all hurting in different ways right now. If we aren't (yet) directly impacted by the hateful things happening in our country, we know someone who is, and sadly, I'd say we also all know someone who is celebrating it as it happens. I'm not sure how to reconcile my knowledge of people I'm close to, with the shocking, uninformed things coming out of their mouths. These are people who have been a positive presence in my life: checking on me when they can tell I'm not myself, doing random little things to make sure I feel cared about, pushing me to grow and be better, and supporting me through all my chaos. But they're also actively supporting racist, homophobic, and transphobic policies and are completely blind to it, primarily by choice.
I'd be lying if I said a part of me isn't waiting for the moment they realize they're not excluded from the harm being done, and that everything they believed was a lie. I'm mad. I want them to feel the hurt, the despair, and the hopelessness they've created for so many good people. I want them to understand what betrayal feels like, and to see what they've inflicted on other people because they're convinced this giant orange kidney stone cares about what they're paying at the grocery store. I want them to grasp the severity of what's happening, and what their short-sighted desire for cheaper eggs is costing other human beings. I want them to see their own hypocrisy when they're claiming to believe in a higher power that's supposed to have taught acceptance and kindness, as they celebrate the destruction of lives.
I also want to be able to want those things without feeling guilt. Without feeling like it turns me into someone no better than the Frump, so angry and holding so much negativity under my skin. But I can't. And that little bit of guilt is what I'm trying to cling to, because a lack of remorse is what allows horrible people to do what they do.
At the end of all that, I want them to have a desire to be educated about things that scare them, understanding that they were wrong about the identity of the monster going bump in the night. I want them to realize that we're all in this together, and blindly following a tyrant causes nothing but destruction. I want them to have a desire to see the bigger picture, the world past the end of their noses, and try to put themselves in the shoes of people struggling to survive right now.
AND, this talk of monsters brings me to a very relevant story.
On inauguration day (I refuse to capitalize it), I was feeling so defeated and hopeless. Hopefully in four years we'll look back and be glad it passed so quickly, but also it feels like we can't even count on that. I had frustration to burn off, so I went to the gym. I read when I'm on the treadmill (brave, I know), so I pulled up my email to see what I had, and tadaaaaaa - The Curse of Medusa from our very own Kirsten Craig.
It's a relatively quick read, and I freaking devoured it. Kirsten's take on the tale of Medusa was so inspiring, and exactly what I was needing. Most are aware that Medusa has become a symbol of strength for women, especially survivors of sexual assault, and having someone in charge who has been found responsible for crimes like that has made her even more relevant than she normally is. Kirsten's Medusa embraces the hell out of her circumstances. She's relatable in her fears and experiences, and admirable in how she chooses to live her life outside the shadow of her trauma, while still using it as inspiration to grow and become stronger.
I finished this read with a lot more hope than I had when I started. It fanned that "fuck you and your bullshit" candle that has been burning at both ends, and reminded me that we can be defeated by this, or we can all band together. As terrifying as this is, we are not alone. Our community is fiercely protective and supportive, and if we continue to lean into that, we will get through this.💜 We aren't going to be pristine on the other end - it's not going to be pretty - but we will get there and be all the stronger for it.
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