Making America Great Again

So, we all heard the big promise for months and months--Number Forty-Five said, and continues to say, he is going to "Make America Great Again." Unlike the millions of Americans who cast their ballot for him back in November, I never saw a chance in hell that he was going to actually do it.  And never mind that nearly three million more Americans cast their ballots in another direction, because they didn't believe he would either.

But, devil's advocate, I am starting to think I may have been wrong. I know, it sounds crazy coming from this die-hard old liberal, but he may actually have found a way to do exactly what he promised.

Not long ago, a longtime friend posted that really tired old meme with the haggard, dirty, homeless child on the streets--you know, the one that declares that we shouldn't be helping people from other countries if we can't take care of our own? I have seen that grizzled old meme so many times. Sometimes, in place of the child, it's a presumed homeless veteran. Most of the time, I just roll my eyes, grown, and scroll by, because I know that when I inevitably call the person out on it, they are also going to end up saying that our tax dollars shouldn't be paying for public assistance either. Maybe it will be followed by suggesting that people need to work for a living, or we should drug-test everyone who receives even a penny from the government. But I took the bait this time, and it played out exactly like I anticipated it would. I think I may have even salivated a little because the hypocrisy laced argument was oddly satisfying in my moment of weakness.

One point offered was that people who can help others should. I queried whether until there is some way to force the very wealthy, or financially able to help others, if we should simply let all of the homeless and hungry children and veterans starve. And that's when the declaration that public assistance isn't a good answer either predictably popped up. So, our tax money shouldn't help foreigners because there are Americans in need, but our tax dollars shouldn't help them either. So, we should help--no one.

But, perhaps Number Forty-Five has outwitted this vicious circle, and in the process, he is steering America toward an unexpected greatness.

In the days following the 2016 election, Americans began to throw their financial support behind organizations such as Planned Parenthood, the American Civil Liberties Union, the Human Rights Campaign, and many others that work to support women's rights, civil rights, and human rights. And in the days since Number Forty-Five took office, with every new threat to these rights, Americans have continued to rise to the occasion, and fork over millions of dollars in support. They aren't all giant donations, like the ones you hear about celebrities making. Many of them are the ten and twenty dollar donations that many of us redirect from luxuries like a new book, or an afternoon movie.

Women from all walks of life and colors have been reminded that the work started over a century ago was never truly finished, and now we must not only fight for our own rights, but for the rights of everyone threatened by this new shade of darkness, and this new wave of hatred and intolerance. Many of us are first time activists who are just finding our way. I know I am.

There are so many positives about activism. It brings people together who may never have had a reason to cross paths before. It gives birth to conversations about causes and work that were being overlooked. It raises awareness, and reminds us that we have a shared responsibility to each other, and our Earth.

In the days since the election, I have done more to help and support others than I have ever done in my life. I attended the Woman's March on Washington, I have reached out to my local Islamic Center to offer support, I have sent emails, volunteered, made small donations, and reached out to strangers. I have always cared, but never so actively. And if not for a wicked cold and flu season, I would have done more. But that's the great thing about helping or supporting others--there's no expiration date. We can always do it.

With the release of the newly proposed budget, which threatens to remove federal funding of programs like Meals on Wheels, and before school breakfast for students, a whole new wave of philanthropy has ensued. Millions of dollars are flooding the Meals on Wheels program. People are stepping up to fight for Public Broadcasting and National Public Radio.

As Americans, we are being forced to fight for the things we believe in, and to protect the things we value. We are standing up to say that we will not ignore intolerance or violence against people of color, immigrants, Muslims, transgendered women, or other members of the LGBTQ community. We won't accept misogyny, and behaviors that encourage rape culture.

For the first time, something is driving Americans to take action like we haven't in a long time. Sadly, I know we may not win every fight, and even the fights that we win may take a long time, and be hard fought. Some of the fights have been fought before, and we believed they were won, but frustration cannot stop us from raising the sword again.

No, I don't really believe that Number Forty-Five is making America great again. That's because I don't believe that any one person can make America great again. Number Forty-Five didn't even make America "bad." He simply spoke to angry people, with the tendency to fear and despise that which they do not understand, in a language that gave them permission to bare the worst part of their souls through their ballots, and, in some cases, their words and actions. Many innocent people are under threat, and are living in fear because of such words and actions.

The only people who can make America great are Americans, and we do it by digging in, and digging deep to provide help, support, and shelter for the people who need it, and for the causes that protect all of our truly American rights and values.

A Day Without a Woman, But Not Without a Soul

So, today is International Women's Day. It also is the first Day Without A Woman event.

My daughter was born three years ago today. Oddly enough, I had never noticed that March 8 was Women's Day until I was perusing social media a few hours after my girl was born. It wasn't particularly significant to me in the moment, but I filed the new knowledge away, and now, I always remember the two being linked.

When I look around me, I see people questioning the reasons why women are behaving differently these days. I see people still saying they think that anyone protesting, striking or speaking out is just sore about a lost election. Still others suggest that it's all about abortion rights. And I'm not going to lie, it annoys me.

It annoys me, because to me, and to many of my fellow marchers, protesters, strikers and sisters, the reasons are as clear as crystal. To us, all you must do to understand is open your eyes.

Yes, I am a middle class white woman with a comfortable life. Perhaps it should be easier for me to ignore the world outside of my comfortable life. Perhaps I would be more content. But I have never been that person. I have never been someone who could stand idly by, or keep my thoughts to myself.  And at 2:15 p.m. three years ago, I think any chance of my becoming a settled, contented--quiet--housewife was forever doomed.

I am a mother now. I have always been a caregiver, but something in you changes when you become a mother. When I see other children now, I see my own child. I see potential. I see tomorrow. I cannot turn away. And I cannot turn away from other mothers--other women.

As a mother, I see it as my personal responsibility to make and leave the world better than I came into it, because now, I am leaving it for someone to whom I have made an unspoken vow. My daughter. I have promised her every bit of life and potential I can possibly give her.

Motherhood--womanhood--is a sisterhood. Whether you want to be part of the same tribe or not, we face all of the same obstacles, struggles and challenges. When I see a photo of a Syrian woman cradling her starving child, I can see myself in that same photo. When I read about a homeless, single mother in America, I picture myself in that story. When I see a black mother grieving for her son--taken away too soon, I am heartbroken too, because I cannot fathom how I would recover from that same pain.

There may be a percentage of marchers, protesters, strikers, and sisters who see one man, or one issue as the target of their efforts, but to believe that fighting against one man's electoral victory, or the possible overturning of abortion rights is sustainable, is naive. The momentum behind this fight comes from the depth and breadth of its motivation.
While it's true that this one man, and this one moment represent everything counter to my own personal values, this fight isn't about one election. It cannot be about one election, or it will be lost. It is about the rights of all people to live to their full potential. It's about recognizing our responsibility to one another as humans, and shepherdesses of our shared Earth. It's about standing up for the rights of people who disagree with us, not because we are contrary, but because we believe even those who do not share all of our views are still entitled to the same rights we demand and defend for ourselves.

I believe in everyone's right to decent health care. I believe in everyone's right to safe water and air, as well as sustainable energy and resourcing that is not counter to the protection of our environment and other species. I believe in body autonomy, which means I believe every human should have self-determination about what happens to their bodies. I believe in civil and human rights. I believe in global consciousness, and peace. I believe in national security via all  avenues, not to exclude diplomacy and collaboration. I believe in equality--for women, and members of the LGBTQ community. And when I say that all lives matter, I don't say that as a retort against mothers who have buried their sons and daughters because they were presumed to be thugs or criminals before they were presumed to be humans, I say it because each one of us--brown, white, olive, mocha, yellow, or peach--as my daughter refers to herself--is precious, and holds enormous potential.

I believe that there are more ways in which we are similar than ways we are different. As average citizens, we would take back all of the power if we stopped listening to those who stole it tell us to be afraid and suspicious of each other.

I am a white, middle class mother, but that doesn't make me any less part of the human tapestry that has been woven throughout time. I understand that every right I have is there because someone else fought for me to have it. I understand that not all of the people who have made America so many of the wonderful things that it is have shared equally in the rights and privileges that I have been able to take for granted.

My skin color and my financial security do not give me permission to discount the value of others. My belief system and values do not allow me to trample on the beliefs and values of others. And my commitment to my own child does not permit me to look at other children and ignore their potential, and their right to thrive.

I march, speak out, protest, and fight so others have an equal right to share in humanity's potential. Geography, skin color, religion, financial status or social standing should not determine whether someone lives or dies. Nor should these things define a person's value.

I won't apologize for who I am, or my "loudness." You may not be able to see it, but I stand for us all, because we truly are more alike than we are different.