--Dedicated to Johanna Reiss, my author friend (The Upstairs Room, The Journey Back, That Fatal Night, and A Hidden Life)
I am broken. For now.
Not that broken that curls me up in a ball at night or keeps me from eating (obviously).
Not the kind that makes me cry or give up.
It is the kind of broken that Alonso Quixado felt on his deathbed.
The Don Quixote in me has retreated.
Like many of you--or I hope like many of you--the past sixteen months have been spent studying and researching and determining how my vote would be cast on November 8, 2016. I worked hard because citizenship is hard work. I did not assume anything. As with any campaign season, bias runs its course. Spin on news comes with the territory--we grow up spinning excuses about our finances or our relationships or our health or child rearing. Why are we critical of the media or talking heads when they do it? If we truly do our homework, we can filter as needed.
But something was different in 2016. And it broke me.
Before you quit reading, thinking this is cry-baby mode about the election result, I challenge you to continue.
Beyond any November outcomes, I am broken because of what transpired last spring and into the fall and even today. It is not that a certain candidate lost or that another won. It is the path we took to that result that knocked me down.
--I saw hate.
--I read hate.
--I heard hate.
--I struggled to find my idealism when I read people had discovered they could profit from fake news sites.
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/25/world/europe/fake-news-donald-trump-hillary-clinton-georgia.html
--I was deflated when I watched news interviews or read comments of those who falsely said our President and his family had taken faith out of the White House. I offer proof below that he has not.
A discussion on ACU's campus in 2008 led by Dr. Shaun Casey on the role of religion in the public square influenced and reshaped the function of the office [Office of Faith Based and Neighborhood Partnership] under the Obama administration. Casey ('81) is an ACU alum and professor of theology at Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington, D.C. He is an adviser to the Obama administration on religious affairs.
http://www.acu.edu/legacy/news/2012/120516-white-house-briefing.html
--I cringed when I heard specific jokes for which there was no apology made about women, knowing that family members--including myself--have been victims (yes, that is the word) of sexual advances and assault. (For the record, I also cringed in 1998 when another politician demeaned his position along these same lines).
--I felt disillusionment knowing that political ideologies, not a collective litmus test of character, seemed to sway our judgment.
--I felt ashamed that I could not share why I related more to Hillary (someone who has paid the price for questionable decision-making but who at the core has spent most of her life in true public service) because I, too, have made bad decisions which have adversely affected others. Yet I know in my heart I am not a liar, a cheater, or a crook. I thought of students who may have been told at home or by fellow classmates or by other teachers that they are stupid and dumb and eventually how those students begin to believe that....when they are not. The formula worked: say something or write something often enough, and soon people will believe it unconditionally.
--Finally, I felt frustrated that reason and common sense did not surface for healthy discourse on the issues that we care about. It's a given that we are going to disagree on how to solve problems. Sadly, there appear to be no Henry Clay types anymore to orchestrate the necessity of compromise. I will never be convinced that issues such as abortion, immigration, or the use of public restrooms could not be worked out using education, common sense, and decency. The letter of the law--the very thing we loathe about the Pharisees and Sadducees--obviously still has a tight grip.
My desire? To see this country find a way to fight fair and fight intellectually (because I am not against fighting--a debate coach never would be). Go read any book about the Continental Congress's meetings in 1776 or the Constitutional Convention in the hot summer of 1787. Those statesmen were often at each other's throats; it was rarely congenial. But the job got done well, and we live with the end result over 200 years later: that end result being a peaceful transfer of power on November 8 and culminating with President-elect Trump's Inauguration Day in January 2017.
No recount is needed. But no Twitter based on the false claim that "millions of illegal immigrants voted" is either. The United States is better than this. I long for the common sense that will encourage all citizens to cherish what is good, to restore wisdom, and to move forward in ways that reflect a kinship with the world. Yes, we must physically protect our nation, but we must also protect our honorable reputation for championing good over evil. Yes, the government needs to consider funding social programs, but it has a fiscal responsibility to be good stewards as well. This is not partisan. This is common sense.
At the beginning of this blog, I dedicated this to Mrs. Reiss. She and I have emailed for a few years now after having taught her novel, The Upstairs Room, to my Sixth Graders. She is a Holocaust survivor who, as a young girl, went into hiding for over two years in the 1940s because she was Jewish. She came to this country after the war, married, raised two daughters, and is a U.S. citizen. I have channeled her thoughts and words many times in the past few months--and will do so in the years to come. Because history, not Facebook or Twitter or news sites, is my teacher. Her history is a part of ours.
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I will miss reading your good news of family, your funny posts, your beautiful pictures. And, as an artist and writer, I will have a tremendous void at not having a broad outlet such as Facebook to share my travels, my classroom experiences, and my stories. (You can still access some on Instagram where I will post photos).
Call this a manifesto.
Call it my Waterloo. 😏
Two roads diverged. I am simply taking the one that will help me go fight the windmills.
