This Truth Makes Sense

“I’m worried about having energy for all of it.” That’s how a partner verbalized the feelings of the morning, on our everyday walk. Holding the understanding that so many people chose the simplicity of autocracy over the effort of mutual care. We were on the brink of progress, as a nation, and chose the easy way out.

It’s so deeply disappointing. Yet, now we know.

For me, this morning feels right. It feels like the gaslighting is finally over. I hate it; and I believe it, completely. Where we lay blame won’t matter. Our challenge is to move forward while holding this truth.

It is the truth of what many of us in power have prioritized. It’s the reality of failing to deliver protection to our most vulnerable. Choosing “order” over safety. It is saying the quiet part out loud, when we should have known those whispers were what upheld these systems of oppression all along.

Now we get to make meaningful choices. Now we can look each other in the eye, knowing our neighbors don’t mind if our loved ones are deported. We can choose to sit back while women suffer and die. It’s no problem if children have to suppress their true selves. A majority of us are ok with these trade-offs. We didn’t choose democracy. We chose convenience, and we will live (and die) with the consequences of that choice.

Yet, I am more hopeful than I have been in a very long time. I am excited to harness the clarity of this moment.

Because we are all we have.

That has been true forever. There is no “us” and “them.” We are these systems. We are the powerful and the oppressed. We are the dipshits watching reality shows and the academics publishing critiques of each other. We are the corrupt Supreme Court justices and we are the public servants making small decisions in favor of care over preservation of bureaucracy. We are our neighbors who don’t bother to know each other's names and the ones who show up with the meal train. We can hold multitudes, and we are the paradoxes we fear the most.

In this truth, just keep showing up.

This weekend, I’ll sing with friends about community and hope at the Family Folk Machine concert. I will keep pestering colleagues in neighboring towns about how we activate the CRANDIC rail line to improve regional mobility. I will sit with clients making some of the hardest life choices they have ever made, and remind them of their resilience. I will dance while it’s still dark in the morning, with my goofy, queer-friendly Jazzercise friends. Next Friday is Truthsgiving. Tomorrow and the next day, Craig will still be downtown improving on Iowa City’s best performance art. 

We are all we have. And we are powerful. Listen to your heart. Lead with love. Hold each other while we weep. Catch each other when we stumble.

For those of us with layers of privilege, our hardest choices are yet to come. See the stakes as they really are, and keep choosing the next right thing.