The days after and ahead

This post is a space for me to begin grappling with the results of the recent presidential election here in the States. To say it was a punch to the gut is an understatement. After a sleepless night I felt transformed, metaphorically, into a stranger in my own home, feeling neither warmth nor welcome. I am not alone. Indeed, 48 percent or so of the voting public likely feels some version of the same. But the popular vote tallies show we are also somewhat outnumbered. I’m not sure what that means. I am turning here to writing—and perhaps later to other creative endeavors—in an attempt to engage with that.

To begin, something I feel—and something I see reflected in a lot of reporting right now—is how utterly unsettling it is to know that your family, friends, neighbors, the people all around you simply do not share your values or don’t share them in the same mix of importance and intensity as you do. Not to be glib or dismissive, but that’s always been the case though, no? Everyone has their own mix of internal intensity and ranking for their values. And they are also internally contextual and mutable. It’s just that in this moment the starkness of that divide, against the framework of the election, is showing those differences in a very sharp relief. However, some things can’t be unseen, nor should they be. And I expect that being exposed to this unvarnished truth will exacerbate feelings of detachment and estrangement among and between the population and in relation the country in general.

That is going to be hard to combat, which I think we must try to do, on a personal level, and it is going to be hard to live with at a societal level. Embracing the alternative seems both too grim and too personally unhealthy. Hating everyone you know who voted the other way and making sure they know it is all too understandable. But carrying hate around tends to hurt those who burden themselves with it more than anyone else. It may not be easy to know you are widely hated—I suspect that being so can be an agent that quietly pollutes a person—but it is something that can be ignored.

So what to do? I am asking as much as am attempting to offer an answer. What comes to mind though is to remind yourself of your own values, to reaffirm and to stay true to them. Remind yourself that folks who didn’t vote as you did may still share your values but in a different order. Attempt to share your concerns and understand theirs. They are potential allies. Also remind yourself that while hating those in your orbit isn’t going to do yourself any favors, you also don’t have to like them either. And that’s okay. Potential ally does not suggest anything more than that. Being civil and friendly speaks to your own character and emboldens good will; it does not require you to actually be friends with anyone.

If you don’t already, it may be time to consider connecting with other like-minded folks in social and in real life. Are there groups, organizations, local government opportunities for you to join and make an effect? Doing something, and simply being in communion with those you can share openly with, can have heartening and restorative effects. And it can have practical, tangible effects in the long term in what policy is set and in how elections turn.

This all, of course, only goes so far. And it may not be enough. Life is short. These sorts of fights are long fought, hard won, not guaranteed, and often precarious, sometimes even dangerous. You have to decide if you have the time and energy and inclination for that effort. Is this a fight you are making for yourself alone, for you and your family now and to come, etc. Those calculations are not easy and are deeply personal. And in the end, it may simply be that there are other places in the world that likely better share and represent your values. Places better suited to be you and your family’s home. Indeed that’s what brought many people to these shores in the first place over the course of the last few centuries. No place is perfect. No place will be a perfect alignment for you. No place remains the same forever. But there may be better places for you, here and now. Your commitment to your values and welfare and freedoms supersedes your commitment to any particular nation. Making such a change is not easy or cheap. It may mean leaving behind family and friends—again, as was done when folks first came here from distant shores for similar reasons of their own. It may mean working a drastically different job than you do now, living in a space very different from what you are used to, having to learn a new language. But it is doable. And, even simply knowing that is an option and working toward it as a solution may offer comfort and perspective for the days ahead.