It’s 11:21 PM, Tuesday November 8th, 2016. I haven’t checked the results in about an hour, since I do need to sleep tonight, but before I sleep I want to say a few words to the universe in the hope that someone might hear them.
I am afraid. I am a bisexual woman. I am quiet. I am human. I make great beef stew, I take wonderful care of my FIV+ cat, I honor my father’s memory, I laugh at stupid jokes. I am these things, and more.
In the days, weeks, and years to come, regardless of what happens tonight, I can fight with love. Trust me, I know that’s a sad, tired cliche, but what’s the alternative? Love doesn’t mean laying down to be trampled on, or bowing my head in the face of oppression. Love means looking my privilege in the eye, acknowledging that privilege and how it’s shaped my existence, and striving for constant awareness of it. Love means offering my voice and my words to people and groups that don’t share those privileges, and bowing out gracefully if they’re declined. Love means reaching out to my family, my friends, the fine folk who share their digital spaces with me, and striving to keep those spaces safe.
Love means wading through the debris of what might come next.
Love means doing the work.
Meredith Foster 