There is tomorrow

As I often do, today I thought of my parents, long gone but still a significant part of my life, their values instilled in me as part of a safe and loving upbringing. My parents were forward thinking. In some ways.

They were both well-educated professionals who served during WWII, products of their time and experience, raised in modest homes with close family. They were involved in community, my mother as a volunteer in school and church, my father as a pro bono lawyer for those who needed his services. We didn’t have a lot. We lived in a small house. We always had room for one more at the table or in our home, whether friend or family. My parents believed in service to others, and they raised us to do the same. And I hope this is how we have raised our own children, that is, to put the needs of others, if not necessarily ahead of, then, at least adjacent to our own.

I can’t help but think how profoundly disappointed our collective ancestors would be in their offspring, putting ourselves first, not only above fellow citizens and non-citizens alike, but above the good of our own children. Self-serving, selfish, ignorant and small we have become to serve what will make our lives easier while throwing to the wolves all who might stand, kneel or lay in our paths.

I am so saddened by the choice our country has made this week and fearful for what kind of world awaits my children and  my grandson as they grow up and grow old in a world less than what I grew up in. The focus on economics, while understandable, and the scapegoating of immigrants are not what make this country great. My parents’ generation, born into relative poverty and fighting for ideals in WWII knew the importance of economics, of feeding and clothing their own children, but they also saw value and necessity in caring for others less fortunate, providing opportunities and being afforded those opportunities that helped them move forward in life. Today, what we are building is a nation of self-serving attitudes and values. We’ll become an example again, not of good, but of the evil that can happen when we put ourselves above all others, seeing humanity only in our own ugly reflections.

8 years ago, I had a friend invite me to join her and like-minded friends to talk and commiserate. I said no at the time because I felt that the only way to move forward was to talk with individuals with whom I didn’t share the same opinions. I thought we could speak civilly, learn from each other, understand why our thoughts were as they were. My naive self thought that what I suspected of those supporters of Trump and his people couldn’t possibly be true. But, today, I know. We have very small-minded and selfish people making up our population. I’m embarrassed. I’m disheartened. I’m ashamed. Not only of us as a nation, but of me personally, for not truly understanding the depth of hatred and ignorance in our country.

All that being said, I have hope. In my children, in those who truly value all people regardless of race, faith, ethnicity, immigration status, sexual identity or preference, ability, and health, and who choose to lift up rather than tear down.  

For now, there is tomorrow. And after spending today in a dark place, I choose to move forward with intention, integrity and purpose far greater than I’ve had before. 

I will focus on what I fear for the most. I am most scared for our children, for the future of our education system, its funding, its governance, the willful intent to undermine what should truly be the underpinning of the American way, the most important part of our society that should be equal and accessible to all regardless of means, background, citizenship, etc. 

If you are happy with the results of the election, shame on you. If you are not, find the thing that tears at you the most, and work to make it better.