how will you shine your light? ✨
it's going to be a looong four years, friends. let's get to work!
Wednesday Wisdom
“Let this radicalize you rather than lead you to despair.” ~ Mariame Kaba
Morning Musings
I thought I was okay. Unlike eight years ago, this time I didn’t cry while brushing my teeth the morning after learning the election results (probably because I stayed up until 3 a.m., so I went to sleep knowing…but even as I watched those electoral college votes tick up, I knew within the depths of my soul that he would win).
So I immediately started thinking about how I would mobilize. I started thinking about what I could do in my little corner of the world to make the world a better place—for you and for me and the entire human race (shoutout to MJ).
I’d toyed with the idea of starting an Evanston chapter of Chamber of Mothers before the election, but life got in the way. I also perused Moms First careers page and saw that they were hiring a director of communications—a role I’d considered applying for before, but talked myself out of in an effort to stay committed to my full year of full-time freelancing.
Now here we are.
The morning after this most recent election I thought I was doing fine. Jeff and I got Violet ready for daycare and I thanked God I didn’t have to explain to her the results, unlike some of my friends. One friend said her twins stayed in bed crying. Another one said her four-year-old asked, “if Trump is president, does that mean someone is going to shoot my school?” She’s four, y’all. FOUR! A four-year-old should NOT be asking these kind of questions. This should NOT be one of their top concerns. They shouldn’t live in a country that normalizes school shootings. And we SHOULD live in a world where we could confidently answer, “Oh no, sweetie.”
But we can’t. And you know why? Because half of this country voted against everything that little girl stands for and represents. Half of this country voted to take away her rights and other little Black and brown girls like her. Half of this country just couldn’t bear the thought of seeing a Black woman in charge and voted instead for someone who does not give a damn about them.
And, despite me practically BEGGING white women to get their shit together this time around lest we have a repeat of 2016, THEY DID NOT LISTEN!!! WHYYYY?! I am truly baffled and you know what? I’m done.
I’m done explaining racism and microaggressions to white women. I’m done trying to bring y’all along with us. I’m done. I did my part—along with 92% of Black women. We did our part. And it is frustrating, disappointing and so hurtful to live in a country that does not respect us, value us or listen to us. To put it plainly, this country does not deserve Black women.
Yet, here we are. So what do we do?
I was relieved this time around to see Black woman say, “Nope. Y’all got this.” We unplugged. We poured into each other. We stayed in community. We took time to rest and recollect. And, honestly, some of us still are. Because we need to. Like I said, we did our part.
Despite that, I found myself feeling and looking quite sullen dropping Violet off at daycare. The previous day, I was so full of joy. I was so excited to have voted for Kamala and have Violet witness history in the making. I wore my Kamala shirt featuring her senior portrait from Howard University—which I’d worn during a number of other drop-offs—and shared excitement with the kind Black gentleman who works the front desk.
Like any good father he sensed my sadness and said, “I’ve got something for you when you come back down.”
I nodded and mustered a very weak smile, “Thank you. Because I know I need it.”
And as I climbed the stairs carrying Violet (who refused to be put down), I started crying. I attempted to pull myself together and assured her that Mommy was okay, just a little sad. I gave her a hug and by the time I made it back downstairs to the front desk, tears were spilling out of my eyes and I was in full-on ugly cry mode. I was crying so hard, I had to take my glasses off.
Then Mr. Mark spoke life into me. “First, fix your face,” he told me in a loving way so as not to give them the sense of satisfaction. Then he reminded me that we’re the ones raising our children, not the government. We’re the first line of defense. And if that means we need to run for [local] office, then so be it. We have to do whatever it takes.
He also reminded me that we’ve been here before. That 2016 was a sort of dress rehearsal for this very moment.
“God was preparing us this,” he told me. “And our ancestors survived so much worse. So you’re going to go back to your car, you’re going to cry and then you’re going to go on about your day.”
He shared more anecdotes that were, honestly, just what I needed to hear. Waking up to learn that Trump was elected president in 2016 sucked. But this time around, now that I’m a mom, was absolutely devastating and heart-wrenching. I needed guidance from someone older and wiser who’d traveled this road before.
So I wiped my tears, put my glasses back on and immediately called my sister. She’s my person. She has witnessed every ugly cry I’ve had in my adult life—from my last dance recital senior year and the time I cried at a minor league baseball game shortly before moving to Chicago to the time I kicked off my shoes and slid down the wall crying after our rehearsal dinner. She was also the person I called the morning after in 2016. This time, the sobs were guttural. I couldn’t even get the words out. But she knew, she understood and she listened.
After our conversation, I’d contemplated backing out of the desk shift I’d agree to cover for a colleague at a local yoga studio where I volunteer as a work study in exchange for an unlimited membership. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d rather be around people than wallowing home alone in self-pity.
So I went. I tended to all of the admin tasks during the first class.
When the next teacher came in to host her virtual women’s group, I decided to join her.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Not good,” she said. “You?”
“Not good,” I said. “Want some coffee?”
I gave her a hug, took her order, called another mom friend on my short walk to the coffee shop and when I came back, I joined the group.
What Kim shared in that class has been playing on a loop in my head ever since.
“When your head and heart are aligned, that’s love,” she said. “When your head, heart and actions are aligned, that’s service.”
Then she posed the question to the group asking how we can be of service to others? It made me think of the Bible verse about being a cheerful giver. While I imagine the original verse is referring to tithing, I have to believe the same applies to giving of our time and talent in addition to our treasure.
As a group, we talked about selflessly giving of our gifts and talents as acts of service and it was in that moment everything clicked. I decided I would do all that I could the next four years (and beyond!) toward advancing maternal rights in America. That means fighting for federally protected paid family leave. Advocating for affordable childcare. And doing my damndest to increase maternal health and decrease maternal mortality.
After class, I registered for the next Chamber of Mothers meeting in Chicago (which is this Saturday, Nov. 16, if you want to join me!) and applied for that comms role at Moms First. Before I’d been approaching my full-time job search from a place of scarcity, now my search had evolved into one of service.
I’m a storyteller and a gatherer. Nothing brings me more joy than using my words to help and uplift others. And I’m determined to do exactly that now more than ever.
At the end of the group meeting, Kim advised us to “keep your light on.” There’s going to be a LOT in the coming weeks, months and years that is going to try to dim your light and stomp it out altogether. So my question to you is, how will you shine your light? ✨
Upcoming Events
Nov. 15: Special Topics in Being a Parent. I’ll be in conversation with columnist and author S. Bear Bergman at Pilsen Community Books in celebration of his new illustrated guide chock full of practical parenting advice.
Nov. 17: Chicago Feminist Book Club. I’m excited for Stop Waiting for Perfect to be the November book club pick. It’s free to attend, just register here (and no, you don’t have to have finished the book first).
What I’m Reading
For Black Women, ‘America Has Revealed to Us Her True Self’ (New York Times)
No Place for Self-Pity, No Room for Fear (The Nation)
But Can It Change Anything? What Artists and Social Movements Can Learn From Each Other (Literary Hub)
Three Reasons Why the Election Ended Your Friendship (Friend Forward)
Elections Matter, but We Need More Than the Ballot Box to Achieve Collective Liberation (Hammer & Hope)
Now Hiring
Communications and Narrative Manager for Georgia Resilience and Opportunity Fund
Senior Social Media Manager for Deel
(Interim) Managing Editor for Atlanta Community Press Collective
Research Associate for Berkeley Media Studies Group
Editor for Health
Freelance Digital Copy Editor for Lonely Planet
Communications Director for New Disabled South
Communications Manager for Women’s Equality Center
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Wow. This really pricked my spirit. Still marinating and processing. Thank you for sharing with us. 🌻
Yes, being of service versus being in lack. Receiving that as I continue to process and call in my supports, ancestors, and comrades for guidance.