I’m probably one of the many Washington voters whose ballot hasn’t yet been counted along with others who voted for you. My ballot like theirs is sitting somewhere being tallied slowly day by day. It’s a hopeless feeling to know that the most popular choice of the American people didn’t win, that ultimately my ballot didn’t count.
The next day I took a run, part of me thinking I’d run into you, like that heartbroken woman in the woods who you saw walking. I did see this sign on someone’s front yard and smiled, especially with the “still” in it.
That’s when I realized there was nothing wrong with me for still wanting you as my president and even thinking of you as such. Even as all of the mainstream media has normalised this insane situation and tried to make everyone believe this is democratic, my gut says no. I know now I’m no longer alone feeling the grief of your absence.
You simply were not rewarded for being the very obvious ‘best’ choice and hence, this is the story for so many of us who struggle, work hard and shine bright only to be stamped down or never seen. Why have we as women come so far on some levels and can’t crack the glass ceiling of political offices? It’s also a “white lash” against a changing country. So many white women also voted for him, believing his lies, being groomed by a predator who is also selling fear-mongering snake oil, and going back to watching Fox news. This is depressing although not shocking—all his supporters letting their true colors show. I wonder what’ll happen when they realise he couldn’t care less about them.
Many of us are signing petitions and protesting and even organising underground railroads for the 3 million immigrants “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named“” intends to deport. I truly can’t hear his voice, look at his face, or know his cabinet posts. This has all moved much too fast and seems so wrong, and undemocratic.
We are trying to make some sense of this for ourselves and our children. I don’t know how to tell my daughter that a man who she knows has a history of criminal wrongdoings, financial and otherwise, including assaulting women, exploiting working people, touting racism and bigotry and xenophobia as well as a long list of other horrible things can not just be a president, but run for president at all. My daughter has watched every debate with me and like me, has always wondered how in the world this Frankenstein (of the Republican party at the end point of the Reagan era) has come this far. I tell her, “honey, he’s not our president” even when her teacher says he is.
I’m one of those optimists still holding on to the hope that we can somehow petition the system and bring back a popular referendum. I can’t pretend that this insanity happening all around me is a peaceful transition, it’s not. I’m writing this today as a memorial to my mother Hillary who loved you and your work. She was born on November 13th and as much as I wish she were alive I’m so glad she hasn’t seen what has happened to our poor and very pathetic country.
Thank you so very much for giving us hope, for trying so hard, for winning the hearts of so many people like me and my daughter and for taking on the struggles of the most marginalised in this country–I hope you know we appreciate that. I still believe in you as President of the United States.