Sitting in Ashes
I am experiencing the last 36 hours through a few lenses: I am a woman, I am white, I am queer.
I was so excited, as a woman, to vote for what I thought would be the first female president. No, excited doesn't touch it — thrilled, proud beyond measure to finally see someone who looks like me at the helm. Buoyant, jubilant, hopeful.
As the numbers came in and the results became clear, I kept seeing over and over the effect of race on the election. White people — we did this. It doesn't matter if you didn't personally, if I didn't — the numbers tell the story. I am horrified, sick, complicit. I should have spoken up more to those in my life who are white and fearful of the "other."
And this morning, watching Hillary's concession speech and letting the results sink in, I am feeling my queerness deeply. I recently lost my job, I am concerned about my health insurance, and I'm heartbroken to feel that I am not wanted here.
I am sad, scared, angry. I am aching for myself and for others who are marginalized, particularly those who are more visibly "other" and those who are sitting at multiple intersections of marginalization. There will be time to fight and mobilize and resist. Right now I'm sitting in ashes.