I started out tonight writing this thinking that I would have a lot to say about the baffling madness that is everything around the Grand Oppressive Party and the Trump transition. I mean, just the Betsy DeVos confirmation has been an absolutely jarring disaster as every time she opens her mouth her lack of qualification for the role she’s been nominated to just flows. Though, I do have to say this: the internet is going insane over DeVos supposedly saying that schools need guns to ward off grizzly bear attacks. That is not exactly true and the people spreading that information are being hyperbolic at best. What she actually said was in direct response to a question about a specific school in Wyoming and to that she said “I think probably there, I would imagine that there’s probably a gun in the school to protect from potential grizzlies.” One school. Not all schools. And while she’s still not particularly bright about education, qualified for the job, and may be a questionably decent human being, she didn’t say schools need to protect themselves from bear attacks. Hyperbole doesn’t help the cause of justice, transparency, or equality. Period.
But yeah, train wreck, shit show, disaster in the making. This week nudged us along toward it all. Yet as I sit here tonight I don’t want to rage and rail. I’m going to be doing enough of that for the next four years. Instead, I want to take a moment and just sit in these last few hours of the Obama administration. I still remember casting my ballot for him in 2008. I somewhere still have saved the eloquent wall of text that my boyfriend sent me celebrating the first black president of the United States as it became increasingly clear that night that Obama had, in fact, won. I could make a list of things that Obama accomplished in his administration that mattered, that made a difference, that positively changed the lives for so many Americans. I could try to make the case that he positively changed the lives of every American, even those who hate him for no reason but his skin color. If I did that, though, I’d be here all night. Instead, I look at my son.
My son is a half-black, half-white little boy with ties to Kansas and because of Barack Obama he can now confidently believe that someday he, too, could be President of the United States of America. As I go to bed tonight I pray harder than I have ever prayed in my life that there is an America for him to lead someday and that somehow in the next four years the goodness of man and the faith of refuse to let go of in the American people prevails. I pray that tomorrow isn’t the first day of a dystopia and I pray that somehow, good conquers evil. Because make no mistake, that’s exactly what tomorrow feels like.
Deep breath. One last night.