The important things are: that all should have a voice; that no one should be afraid to use their voice; that all of us start today.
The first rule of blog club is: you DO talk about blog club.
With all who will listen. With too many. Become an over-sharer if you are not already. It is political right now to put your voice into the world and not stand down.
Let's review just a few of the many ways it's hard to be a person today.
1. It is hard to be a three year old in the back seat of the car being told by your mom about a real-life bad guy who will be the new leader of where you live. But then again: you are brave. You tell your mom. Your specific words are: "I am brave. So I can be here." Yes. Exactly.
2. It is hard to be a teenager, girl or boy, who goes to school with the confusing feeling that the world is spinning differently today. To walk through the hall with your friend who is saying, "But didn't he rape a girl?" and know that even the adults around you -- especially the adults around you -- don't yet know what to say. Look like they might never know what to say. But then again: you are brave.
3. It is hard to be an adult today, maybe one who works with young people. You know that in the movie version of your life, you would stand and deliver. You would have the speech that has them all un-slouching in their seats and believing that their ideals matter more than what is on the news. They would believe you because you were putting all the right words in all the right places, and your conviction would hypnotize them into faith. You would model faith and they would eat it up like big pieces of fresh cake. But you don't have words. You don't have cake. You only have your crumbly, real presence. You sense that's all you're offering this next generation. But then again: you are brave.
4. It is hard to be a baby-boomer today. To be a liberal grandparent and to have watched yourself promising something to these younger pieces of you, something that didn't arrive. It is hard to have been a nearly seventy year old woman who was sure that she would live to see the first female president. To have been as certain as possible of something not yet true. And now you feel stumped and betrayed, and also like you are the betrayer for not having stopped this train. You know you are seen as a source of comfort, but you yourself don't know where the comfort comes from today, except maybe photos of your granddaughter in her Halloween costume. You have nothing to email back in response. But then again: you are brave.
Over coffee this morning (in private, with only my husband), I gave the galvanizing speech I wouldn't have the energy to give again later in the day. I hope my young people let this moment change them forever. Let this refocus what matters to them, now that they know that these ideals might not matter to everyone. Let it change what they major in, in college. Be changed by the world, as well as believe you can change it. One of my fears is that you will ask "What can I do?" and when the answer doesn't come quickly, you will stop asking. No, keep asking. Ask "Who am I? What am I good at?" over and over, and then the answer to "What can I do?" will come to you in a clear-headed moment. And you might have to keep changing in response to a changing world, but hang on to what you know with certainty (more than you've ever known) matters most. MATTERS MOST. And then don't keep quiet.
