“If God made us in his image, it was the first failure of the imagination.” Rickey Laurentiis
Like a scavenger, I hunt and peck around Facebook, flip through Mary Oliver poems, and scan articles in the New York Times searching for a word, a line, a story, anything that will assure me that I am NOT, in fact, living through the apocalypse. A bad dream, some say. A nightmare. I say, Just plain wrong. I can’t express myself verbally these days, unless I count the sobs that escape whenever tears come.
I grew up Methodist and spent every Sunday of my childhood at Sunday School, 11 o’clock service, and around the proverbial fried chicken family meal called lunch. But with all of my Methodist indoctrination, the only verse that comes to me now is, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” The truth for me is that I think “they” knew exactly what they were doing when they voted for a narcissistic, mysogynistic, homophobic, racist man to be president of my country.
Being female, I was taught at a young age to be on alert. I learned to listen to my gut whenever I sensed danger. Elevators, parking garages, unlit city streets were all potential hazards. And now that sense of heightened awareness has escalated for me. And so it is for most women, but I can only imagine how much worse it must be for women of color or for those who wear headscarves. And let’s not forget those girls and women who simply are not voluptuous enough to be assaulted by the president-elect. How 58% of white women rejected the stability, safety, and inclusiveness offered by a Clinton presidency after generations of being second class citizens, nothing more than sex objects, is beyond my comprehension.
But the list of the vulnerable expands now to include our LGBTQ brothers and sisters and Jews and Muslims and Mexicans and immigrants and yes, even children. Forgiveness? I think not. Some say that God is in control now. As for me, I don’t believe God had anything to do with this. In fact, whatever one’s concept of god may be, I think right now he or she needs us more than we need him or her to figure out how in hell to save this planet.
I have lived in Richmond VA all my life. I write to try to understand the life I'm living.