Sunday, November 13, 2016
Like many, I am afraid. I am afraid that women will never budge past the glass ceiling when it comes to running this nation. I am afraid of walls, literal and metaphorical, that will arise to keep out those who don't look white and Native-born and have male genitalia. I am afraid that the global wars will be further fueled, and more, I am afraid of war building in our country.
(Correction: I contend we already have a war of sorts in our nation--just look at the violence we heap upon each other.)
I am afraid my international graduate students will find it difficult to find jobs, despite their kindness, their brilliance, their potential to make a real difference in health care. I am afraid people with mental health and substance use disorders and other chronic conditions will find their health care no longer affordable, and that their conditions will forever be used against them when they seek insurance in the future.
I am afraid the children of this nation, including my own, will believe that bullies do win.
The election of He Whose Name Shall Not Be Uttered, as well as the election of his minions (or soon-to-be minions) into Congress, has awakened me out of complacency. Like the slap of cold air when I roll out of bed. Like the way I felt as a middle-school student reading Shirer's The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. I have been quiet too long.
My pledge and promise:
I will practice the art of non-violent discussion.
I will support individuals and groups who share my vision.
I will speak up and act out when I witness injustice.
I will resist the new norm.