It’s Not Over. (Thoughts from a lonely protest in Texas.)

(Written first on Daily Kos.)

Tonight, my son (13) and I went to Dealey Plaza in downtown Dallas for a political rally.

I saw an event on Facebook posted by a group called Women & Allies and I decided it was time for my son to learn what being an American is really about.

While frantically painting protest signs and trying to arrange a carpool (because everything I do is at the last minute and poorly planned), I explained to him that one of the defining features of being American is having the freedom of speech.

(Case in point: when someone screamed “TRUMP!!” out of his pickup truck, I explained that just like we had the right to carry our clever signs, that fine gentleman had the right to be poorly informed and belligerent.)

After painting two signs that read, “President-Elect Trump, From Russia with Love,” we joined a woman I met through Pantsuit Republic (Collin County) and headed downtown.

(Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, one side of one of the signs read, “President ELECT Trump SUCKS” because this was our first foray into sign making and we were short on time and, for this side, short on space.  My son said it was pretty immature, messaging-wise, and I told him that was okay because it was the sign I was going to make him carry.)

But I digress.  Around 6:45, we found a small group of people near the Grassy Knoll (yes, THE Grassy Knoll, not A grassy knoll).  I found it entirely appropriate that the scene of our protest, with about 20 people, was in front of flags at half-mast.  (Of course, I think all of our flags, across the country, should fly at half-mast until the inauguration.  Then, if Trump is inaugurated, they should be flown upside down.)

I’m proud to report that while I was trying to meet the people on the knoll, my son grabbed his sign and, with no prompting from me, began walking up and down Main Street.  In fact, I had to stop chatting to join him.  I’m also happy to report that we were joined in our walking by a great young woman named Fany, who did not have a sign but did have a glow stick and, apparently, an activist’s heart.

There we were.  My son and I and Fany, walking up and down Main Street.  There was a small collection of activists behind us on the grass.  They had hung a large fabric sign on the bushes that read, “Dallas Supports the Hamilton Electors.”  We had one organizer join our walk when she realized her t-shirt was a sign.  It read, “Fuck Trump.”  (Right on.)

In the hour and a half that we walked up and down Main Street, we got about a dozen positive responses from the cars driving by (honks and flashing lights on high), including the (usually scary/stressful) “whoop whoop” of a Dallas police van that switched on it’s siren momentarily.

We had one large pickup truck veer abruptly toward the curb, slow down to scream “Trump,” and then peel off in a way that left us standing in an alarming large exhaust cloud (how did that truck pass the annual emissions inspection??).  But we also had another driver of a large pick up truck later scream “Fck Trump!”  This was an important lesson on making assumptions.  I pulled my son away from the curb when the second large pick up truck slowed a bit (after the first large truck veered toward the sidewalk aggressively), and we were all pleasantly surprised by the expletives directed at Trump (and, well, not us).

We had three people walk by and laugh in agreement with the signs and five people sort of hang around with stone faces.  I was guessing the latter were tourists, but who visits Dealey Plaza after dark?  Besides protesters and a few passing-by locals?  No matter…

Do you know what does matter?  We were there.

On a seemingly random Monday night, we were there.

For the people who drove by, we were there.

For the people who were wondering “does it even matter now?”, we were there.

For the people thinking that there is nothing you can do, we were there.

For the people tempted to accept the insanity of Trump as “just how it is now,” we were there.

For the people thinking that this fight is over, we were there.

I was not disappointed by the small number of attendees.  I was inspired and invigorated.  Every one of us was there because we care, and we care enough to be there on a chilly, windy Monday night. Every one of us was there because not being present was harder than staying home at this point. Every one of us was there because we believed it is vital that others see us there.  Our presence tells others, in Texas, that they are not alone.

And we have not yet begun to fight.

For many of us, election night of 2016 was not the end, it was just the beginning.  We will be on the right side of history.  What was 20 tonight will be 20,000 next month and then 2 million next year. But first, you have to show up.  

And tonight, my son and I did just that.

But for the grace of God go I…

I went to Kroger tonight.  My night-based contract job had ended, giving me a weekday evening free for the first time in nearly three months.  Thankfully, I had a daytime contract position scheduled to start next week.  I say thankfully because I am a single mom with $150,000 in student loans who lives paycheck to paycheck.  In short, I am like millions of Americans today.

With a cart of fresh fruits and vegetables, I headed for the front of the store by way of the clearance aisle, which I still check on my way out.

I immediately saw a woman that I recognized.  She had on worn but clean clothes: jeans with a plain long-sleeved t-shirt under a nondescript blue zipper hoodie.  She didn’t notice me because she was digging into the back of a segmented section filled with a hodgepodge of loose, small non-food items.  From personal experience, I know that it’s important to take your time in those sections because you never know what you will find under all the items you don’t want to buy.

I glanced at her cart and saw a large package of pork chops with today’s expiration date and a dozen day-old round rolls, both items marked down for quick sale.  I knew that there was nothing extra in her cart because she probably did not have any money for anything extra.  There was a clean Spartan-ness about her cart and her appearance that I recognized.  I’m sure you could say I am making assumptions, and yes, I am, but something in my very bones told me I knew her.  I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a feeling of like recognizing like.

You see, I knew her because I have been her.

I quickly moved past her and turned the corner where I stopped and stood still, waves of emotions washing over me.  I so badly wanted to offer to buy her items but knew that such an offer could be offensive or embarrassing (or both).  I remember when a Target employee offered to buy some school clothes I couldn’t purchase because my debit card was declined.  I was touched by that woman’s offer, but I rushed out of the store with my sons because I was so embarrassed.   I also remember feeling immensely grateful that my sons (6 and 9) were too distracted with each other to pay attention to our adult conversation at the register.

So although I was able to resist the urge to go back to this woman, I was unable to stop the memories of my life when I was her.

Six years ago, after my divorce, I had to apply for food stamps after seven months of not being able to find a job.  Despite my law degree, I could not find work.  There was too much of a gap on my resume (I had taken seven years off for a marriage that ended when my ex-husband left me for his mistress) and my law license was not active.

Desperate to work, I had applied for jobs at Walmart and a gas station.  Neither potential employer could give me a set schedule because it was against company policy.  I was told that all new hires had to be available for all shifts and all hours.  I could not accept those positions because I did not have any family or friends who could watch my young sons during the evenings and weekends and minimum wage would not cover the cost of childcare for the two after school hours.

I remember when I enrolled my sons at the local elementary school and was required to bring a utility bill to prove residency.  At this time, I was alternating the bills I paid; e.g., if I paid the internet bill, I had to skip the electric bill and vice versa.  I had no cable and water was included in the apartment’s rent.  The internet service was not considered a “utility” bill, so I had to bring the electric bill.  I will never forget the feeling of shame when I gave the office lady my electric bill, which happened to also be a red shut off notice for non-payment.  She was very kind, but I was mortified nonetheless.

I remember when the elementary school had a food drive and my sons pillaged the cupboards.  I could not tell them that we needed the canned peas and tuna, so I let them take those items to school even though I later had to count out coins to repurchase them because I didn’t have cash or credit to use.

I remember crying in the car because I did not have ten dollars to purchase medicine for my son and my ex-husband berating me, telling me I was lazy and just needed to find a job already, before transferring ten dollars (and nothing more) to my account.

Then I look up and see this plush green triceratops (pictured above) looking back at me.  My oldest son loved dinosaurs and would have loved this stuffed dinosaur when I was too broke to purchase something like that for him.  The dinosaur was $14.99.  I put the dinosaur in my cart because I am going to keep it until it is time to give to a toy drive, when I am hoping a child like my son will get it.

I checked out of Kroger and fought back the tears in the parking lot—tears I can’t hold back as I type this now.  Our country has elected Trump and put Republicans in both houses of Congress.  These are not people who want to preserve the safety net for women and children; instead, they want to dispose of it.  After all, feminism destroyed marriages and families.  Laziness keeps people from earning a living wage.  Hardship is really self-imposed.  Head of household?  Who needs that as a tax bracket?  (Besides single parents with children.)

But I digress…

It’s crazy because even though I recognize that I still lack financial security, I realize that I am miles ahead of where I was then and I am so incredibly grateful for that.    And if I have enough money to buy fresh grapes and mixed baby greens, I have enough money to buy this dinosaur.

I share this with you tonight for two reasons.  First, to urge you to not make assumptions about people who need assistance.  And second, to urge you to consider, when shopping, to buy something for someone in need.

But for the grace of God go I.

But for the grace of God go any of us.

Buckle Up Buttercup.

Fifty million Americans voted for a belligerent, draft-dodging, sexual assaulting, race-baiting, tax-evading, fear monger.

The depth of my sorrow has no words.

How can anyone say their vote for Trump was not an affirmation of his hateful antics and politics of fear? Or that his election did not legitimize the racist, sexist, xenophobic and violent tendencies that represent the basest of human emotions and seem to proliferate among his staunchest supporters?

Asra Nomani says that left has to come to center and the right has to come to the center… And yet Trump is elected on a platform of hate and exclusion and extremism. Yeah. Way to encourage centrism.

(Psst. Right extremism inspires/invokes left extremism.)

You haven’t seen extremism from me.

Buckle up buttercup because shit’s about to get real.


I saw a clip from Frontline that seemed to suggest that the impetus for Trump’s run was being humiliated by Obama at the Press Corps Dinner several years ago. Basically, Trump was fuming and probably thinking, “You’re all laughing now, but I’m going to have the last laugh.”

When he was elected, and I was so enraged and stayed up all night working on the Pantsuits’ regional chapter group, I thought to myself, “laugh now, idiot, but WE ARE GOING to have the last laugh.” I have not felt this angry and inspired in years. And I see that I am not alone in that. Just as he was compelled to act from that night, so too are we compelled to act from election night.

We lost this battle but we will win this war. And ten or twenty years from now they will document the beginning of our social change movement and they will trace it back to the presidential election of 2016.

Why Hillary Lost

Hillary lost because she assumed that she would have Democratic support in traditionally Democratic states because she was the Democratic nominee. But Hillary was more than the Democratic nominee, she was a female nominee. And the impact of her gender was vastly under-estimated.

I am heart-broken but my eyes have been opened. The fear of female power is alive and well in America.

A few weeks ago, in a Medium post, I wrote:

I see in Hillary the resilience that keeps women alive around the world. In fact, I believe Hillary is offensive and threatening because she is the display and embodiment of the strength that quietly resides in every woman.

Hillary Clinton’s candidacy is evidence of the intelligence and independence that many fear exists in the women around them. Hillary exhibits on a public stage the same sheer will that enables women every day to survive sexual assault, sexual harassment, sex-based discrimination, domestic violence, social trivialization and professional marginalization. The facts may vary, but in many ways, the story is the same.”

I did not realize how right I was when I wrote those two paragraphs.

Even in victory, CNN (oh Anderson Cooper, I kind of hate you right now, you silver-haired fox you) and its pundits, led of course by Corey Lewandoski, chose to continue to attack Hillary Clinton. In this case for not exhibiting the graciousness that we have never, ever seen from Trump or anyone in his camp. Mr. Lewandoski demanded Hillary give a concession speech to unify the country while Trump supporters chanted “lock her up” at Trump’s Headquarters.

Sometimes I’m sick of taking the high road. And I particularly sick of people who couldn’t find the high road with GPS and a map criticizing others for not taking it.

What have I learned? That we need more female candidates in all levels of public office. We need more female CEOs. We need more female leaders. Perhaps we were putting the cart before the horse with the presidency. We have a lot of barriers to break, and stereotypes to overcome, in all aspects of American life.

We have come so far, but clearly, not far enough.

I look to Hillary Clinton’s lifelong political and personal stamina for inspiration. We can’t give up now.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained?

I recently tried on-line dating.  I don’t know why, exactly, because I actually have no desire to go on a date.  When I realized that I was not enjoying this process, I wondered why I was doing it in the first place.  I think it was because it felt like this is what I am “supposed” to do now.  I’m happy and healthy.  I’ve identified that reasons for my past decisions so I won’t repeat them in the future.  I’m in a place where I definitely do not “need” a man, for affirmation, affection, attention, or anything else.  I practice enough self-love that I no longer feel like there is any love missing from my life.  So, after 5 and a half years, this should be the time to test the waters, right?

Wrong.  Just so, so wrong.  I halfheartedly engaged in cyber-conversations.  Once or twice I made the mistake of texting directly.  Every time someone wanted to communicate with me, I felt annoyance.  If they wanted to meet me, I felt panic because I lacked any desire, whatsoever, to actually meet them.  This was definitely a sign that even though I think I’m ready, I’m apparently not willing.  My life is so full of things that I need and want to take care of, so there simply isn’t room for anything, or anyone, else.

It makes me wonder if I’ll ever be in another relationship.  I don’t know the answer to that question, but I know I’ll be alright either way.

Saving Yourself

I divorced my ex-husband five and a half years ago.  Our marriage was more of a blood sport than a relationship.  From the day I married him until the day I divorced him, I gained 80 pounds.  In the year following the divorce, I gained 20 more.

I now know that I let myself gain this weight as a form of self-protection.  This was my second divorce.  My entire adult life, I was with someone.  I never looked for the relationships but they were always there.  And I was clearly not the best decision-maker in the relationship department.  When I was obese, I was invisible.  Being invisible was both comforting and liberating.  Without men in my life, I could just be.  And I could figure out how I got to this place in my life.

I don’t have a strong family background.  I was not raised with unconditional love. Instead, I learned that you had to fight to be loved, suffer to be loved.  I would allow myself to stay in unhealthy situations because I knew that love was never free, and always conditional.

In my second marriage, I did not want to get divorce again.  And I desperately wanted a family.  I didn’t like being alone in the world, although being married to him was the loneliest time of my life.

When we divorced, all I had was myself and my two kids.  I didn’t have anywhere to live, or anyone to help.  That first year was particularly difficult.  I had to prove residency to the elementary school with an electricity bill containing a shut-off notice.  I had to get food stamps because I couldn’t find a job that would give me set hours and I didn’t have anyone to watch my kids (ages 6 and 9) on evenings and weekends.  I would pay utilities on alternating months.  If this doesn’t inspire serious self-analysis, I don’t know what does.

Over the next few years, I focused on rebuilding a career that I had given up and on loving the people who mattered, which now included me.  With great intention, I sought to fill the gaping hole inside with faith and self-love.  I recognized that I DID have a family, a small one, but a family nonetheless.

This summer I made a decision to regain control of that last piece of me that remained neglected:  my body and physical health.  I’ve lost 55 pounds so far and will be running my first 5k tomorrow morning.   Part of loving myself is accepting and loving my body. My body has been a faithful vessel, successfully carrying me through this journey and giving me two beautiful, bright sons to walk it with me.  My body deserves much better than I have treated it.

Alice Sebold wrote, “you either save yourself or you remain unsaved.”  As painful and scary as it was, I saved myself.  And I did it because I was the only person on this planet that could.