You know, politics is a tricky, tricky mine field to navigate, especially on a blog, and so I posted two speeches last night because those men's words are better and more poignant than anything I will ever write myself. I was also fairly overcome, and I didn't know how to transfer crazy, jumbled thoughts onto the blank screen. That doesn't mean I'm void of my own words, no, not even close. I am chock full of words, some inspired, some along the lines of "Fetch me that bucket of Halloween candy, won't ya?"
I live in a Red State, and because of my own experiences, I have formed relationships with many people who vote and think differently than I do. Because of these very personal experiences and bonds, I see the beauty in crossing divides in order to learn from the other side. I know what good has come out of my life by befriending and listening to people who marched proudly into their own precinct location and chose John McCain as their candidate. I know that most of these people made such a choice without being flippant or casual about the whole thing but after much thought about their own beliefs and what was best for their own family. I respect their choice, and all I would ever ask of them in return is to respect mine and to know I used just as much thought and consideration as they did.
Unfortunately, our differences—in this election, especially—have been made out by the media and other sources as Very Bad Things, but those differences are vital to this country's continued heartbeat. We need a variety of different people to make up this land, and where we stand on health care or abortion or education should be different because without those differences, we're never really moving anywhere. We're all standing still, unchallenged and unmotivated to speak up about something we believe in.
If distance or circumstance allowed me to be surrounded by only like-minded people, I would never have actual identities to place over phrases like "Republican" or "conservative," and, really, that would be my loss. My life has lent me the opportunity to know the actual people behind the voting record, and those people stood with me on my wedding day, have held my hair after one-too-many tequila shots, cried with me when I found out I was pregnant.
Eight years ago I was very disappointed when the first election I was eligible to vote in turned out the way it did. I remember being mocked by some for how I believed and for who I voted for, but I remember many friends patting me on the back and politely smiling and giving me the space I needed to be angry when I felt my voice hadn't been heard. I hope if you're in a similar position today—disappointed with how things turned out yesterday—you will be surrounded by graciousness and understanding and allowed the space you deserve to feel angry. I also hope that in time your faith in things will be restored and healed, and you will come to understand the other side a bit better; you will see both sides are made up of very well-intentioned and intelligent people. There is not Good and Bad in this politically-charged time. There are not even two distinct camps. There are millions of people dotted along the political spectrum at many different points, all hoping for the best. I believe the best is yet to come, but I understand you may need a little more time and proof to be convinced.
Regardless of how you voted or how you think, I hope you can see today for what it is, a very monumental day in the history of our country. A country whose legacy is filled with very ugly realities and very dark truths. A country who has had to bear the weight of many mistakes of generations past, and just as soon as those weights lighten, it seems, new generations decide to make their own grand mistakes. Yet, it's beautiful what we're allowed here, the freedom to think openly, to speak honestly, to know that no matter how much you may glare at me for my beliefs, you can't strip me of them, you can't take them from me. Likewise, I can't touch yours. And, if we're doing things right, we can still share a beer at the end of the night and know that our conflicting beliefs don't have to keep us from existing together, learning from one another and growing alongside each other. I also hope you can stand a little straighter knowing that when you tell your child he or she can be anything they want to be, it's not a cliche. There's some very hard-to-argue-with proof now. I know it makes me positively giddy that my son is going to grow up in a country where an African-American president is a reality, not just a possibility.
This all seems very neutral, very politically correct, I know. I struggle with just being blatant in my beliefs—in saying, listen, I find it ridiculous as a married woman that in the year 2008 two consenting adults aren't allowed to take on each others' debt in the name of building a life together, that just because it's not the choice you would make or the choice you hope your child makes, it's not fair to deny basic rights from other people, that it's plain insane that the law recognizes and respects my relationship with Mike as more valuable than someone else's—but I know if I allow myself to go too far into how I personally feel, it starts to shut down your ability to hear me. And when that happens, the divide grows deeper and the differences become insurmountable.
I wasn't happy in 2000 or 2004, and I did genuinely feel that the best person to lead or country was sent back to their home state to ponder how their campaign went awry, but, ultimately, my life went on. I earned a college degree, found a job, met my husband, acquired a whiny dog, and made the best of things. I still laughed, still hoped, still believed that I was living in a good country with decent, hard-working citizens even though my credit score was unfortunate and my health care coverage was pathetic. Over the last eight years, I have wanted many things to be different for me and for my now-unborn son, but my life is still good, and more often than not, I'm still happy. I hope you can say the same thing, no matter what your political affiliation. If you can't, I hope you will be able to one day. I hope we all choose belief and faith over fear, and I hope we celebrate our differences instead of continuing to let them divide and define us.
I also hope we can all acknowledge that just because we stand apart on some issues, we stand together on one very big issue—that we all just want to be happy and enjoy the lives we're leading.
Our lives begin now.