A Period of Mourning

— पांच हजार सात सौ सात — What are we mourning, exactly? The death of America? America is still here, and it's the very same one we were living in two days ago. Jessica shared maybe the best thing I saw on socials yesterday: This was written by Venice Williams: You are awakening to the
same country you fell asleep to.
The very same country. Pull yourself together. And,
when you see me,
do not ask me
“What do we do now?
How do we get through the next four years?” Some of my Ancestors dealt with
at least 400 years of this
under worse conditions. Continue to do the good work.
Continue to build bridges not walls.
Continue to lead with compassion.
Continue the demanding work
of liberation for all.
Continue to dismantle broken systems,
large and small.
Continue to set the best example
for the children.
Continue to be a vessel of nourishing joy. Continue right where you are.
Right where you live into your days. Do so in the name of
The Creator who expects
nothing less from each of us. And if you are not “continuing”
ALL of the above,
in community, partnership, collaboration?
What is it you have been doing?
What is it you are waiting for? A lot of this really resonated for me when I read it, especially the part at the beginning about awakening to the same country we fell asleep to, and ancestors of the oppressed dealing with 400 years of this under worse conditions. This was brought up many times in the first President Fuckwit era: this country has endured and surived far worse. Hell, it endured far worse in the 20th Century. The internment of Japanese Americans during World War II is but one example of countless, and in the grand scheme of history—even the comparably brief history of the United States—that was not that long ago. None of this excuses the inevitable backtracking into unadulterated bigotry that we are heading toward. It only illustrates the ebb and flow of time, and that often things must get much worse before they get better. A trans content creator I follow on TikTok posted a video about the similarities between this election and 2004, something even I brought up in conversations yesterday: the left, and Democrats, were absolutely stunned that the country could have endured what George W. Bush put us through and then handed him a decisive victory for his second term—after having lost the popular vote the first time. There may have been a four-year reprieve this time, but the same things happened with President Fuckwit: en electoral college victory while losing the popular vote once; then a decisive victory, both the electoral college and the popular vote, this time. And we find ourselves looking at this result and thinking: Why? Why? I can still remember the 2004 election, and the crushing disappointment of it, the dissilusionment with the American people. I just checked my blog post from the day after that year's election. I actually titled it, "It's morning in hell." I still kind of can't get over how conveniently people have forgotten the Bush years in the wake of President Fuckwit: "I kind of miss Bush now," and similar bullshit. I fucking don't! The man was vile. People like to cite him as "decent" because he actually said things in speeches in defense of American Muslims in the wake of 9/11. Some of us knew even then that he was full of shit, that the very kinds of bigotry sweeping the country then were the direct result of his actions and policies. I won't deny that President Fuckwit is a very different person and it's not a direct apples-to-apples comparison, but this is a hill I will die on: President Fuckwit is a symptom, not the disease. We never would have gotten him as president to begin with if not for the very history of attitudes, policies and laws in the Republican Party that led up to him. We've just reached the inevitable part where they're all emboldened to say the previously quiet parts out loud. But this was their stance all along. — पांच हजार सात सौ सात — — पांच हजार सात सौ सात — I had some interesting, also-inevitable conversations at work yesterday. Nost notably with Gabby and with Amanda. This was somewhat predictable as Wednesdays are the days when our department is asked to come work at the office. I am technically part of the "Pricing and Promotions" team, with Gabby as the manager and Amy and me as her two direct reports—even though they both work across departments and my focus is and has always been on Grocery. On the other hand, I now have a wealth of institutional and historic knowledge about how our systems work and as such have become a source of authority for everyone else who uses them, regardless of department. (People come to me frequently with questions.) This is why I am constantly part of meetings focused on system upgrades. Anyway. Amy and Gabby sit in desks where they are next to each other, though they face in opposite directions. I'm sure Gabby had already checked in with Amy in the morning to see how she was doing with all this, before she came over to my desk to sit with me for a few minutes and talk it all through. I really conveyed, in a more concise way, the sentiment from yesterday's blog post, focusing on the idea that we know we can survive this since we have before; taking things day by day; and simply making the best of what we have to work with. Plus, I mentioned the thought I had while arriving at work that at least where I live and where I work, I am surrounded by like-minded people. Gabby listened to this, and took it in, but in a way I could see she was still a little shell shocked. She said more than once to my attitude, "That sounds healthy." I took a beat, and said, "I get the sense you're not doing so great." She told me she had been crying for the past day. I get it. I honestly do. But I have gotten older and wiser than I used to be, and thus have a better capability for making certain emotional choices. I'm not going to waste any tears on these fuckwits who would only revel in them anyway. I'm saving my tears for tenderness, such as the unbearably sweet episode of Somebody Somewhere that aired on HBO and Max this week (season 3, episode 2: look it up). I cried at that more than anything else thus far on that amazing show, and it was for something wonderful. So that was midmorning yesterday. We had our team meeting with Gabby and Amy at 11:00, and there was little discussed about the election because separate conversations had already occurred. We got through all the necessary business and we were done in twenty minutes. Later, Amanda came to my desk to ask a question about a broker account on our online portal, and it quickly turned to the crushing blow she was also feeling. I repeated many of the same things I said to Gabby, knowing it wouldn't likely make her feel better, but I also listened to all she needed to unload, and she thanked me just for allowing her to do that. There was a moment I think I will remember for a long time, a kind of physical expression of her exasperation: Amanda stretched forward at the end of my desk, set her forehead against the edge of it, and put her hands above her head, also therefore on my desk. It was sort of like she was stretching her back, except in a more despairing way. She needed to take a moment. Take a few breaths. I feel like my reaction here is a lot different from many. Age is definitely a part of it. To a degree, also defiance: I'm not going to give that base the satisfaction, both because I don't have to and because I have the emotional strength not to give it to them. I have always just been unapologetically myself, and I will continue to be. Plus, the deep disappointment I still feel is not the same as shock or despair. I spent all that in the 2016 election. This result is horrible but, unfortunately, not surprising. The only thing that's going to make these voters change their mind is if inflation continues and they finally feel they have President Fuckwit rather than President Biden to blame. Mass deportations are fine for them as long as the price of their fucking eggs go down. The 2016 election pulled the wool from our eyes: this is the America that was always there, waiting for its moment. It's got another moment now, and to Amanda's point, this time they have specific plans in place—horrible ones. I certainly don't mean to downplay that. Right now, I am still holding onto the dim hope of remembering the political darkness of 2004: things get worse before they get better again. Up and down it goes, in a carousel of cycles through the end of time. — पांच हजार सात सौ सात — [posted 12:36 pm]