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After an occupational therapy appointment yesterday, I walked across the street to a coffee shop to wait for an Uber because my car had earlier decided it just didn’t want to Monday.
The app showed a car 19 minutes away, which seemed like a long wait, but understandably so on a holiday. So, I got a coffee and sat down, turning to my smartphone to make use of my time. As I focused on reading the articles our editor had planned for today’s 5 Things, my ears caught bits and pieces of the conversations around me.
My attention was captured when two women seated next to me turned their topic to last week’s election results. One of them said, “One of my girlfriends from the group was so distraught over the election results she couldn’t go to work the next day,” and I think I would have shifted away from my unintentional eavesdropping had she not said what she said next, which was, “My first reaction was to roll my eyes.”
My breath caught, my pulse started quickening, and I couldn’t stop listening.
She went on to defend her position, “I mean, none of us know what’s going to happen. None of us ever expected that the star of The Apprentice would become the President back then, and if he hadn’t, Kamala Harris, a black woman, wouldn’t have ever been able to run for President. Think about that. A black woman ran for President.”
You might be thinking, “That’s one way to try to extract a positive.”
But, that is most definitely not what happened in my mind.
My thoughts went to the fear I have seen and heard in my colleagues, family, and friends’ voices when they express how terrified they are for their daughters, sisters, nieces, aunts, and mothers.
To the despair I have seen and felt in the clinging hugs of my friends in the queer community.
To the all-too-familiar disappointment and heartbreak in the faces of my differently-abled, Indigenous, Black, and Brown friends’ faces.
And all I could actually think was, “What do you mean ‘we don’t know’?”
We did know, and we have known, and we do know. And we warned, over and over again.
Marginalized communities have known this kind of repetitive heartbreak mixed with fear, anger, and disappointment and have pleaded for others to listen for as long as this country has been. They are rightly upset.
So, I ask you to be aware.
Do not live in the shell of your own experience.
Be kind and hold space for the people in your life who are experiencing worry and concern, fear and angst, even if it feels extreme to you.
I could have shouted, “Look around you! How can you be so blind? So deaf? So selfish?” But I took several slow deep breaths, and I’m glad I did, because they afforded me the pause I needed in order to hear her continue on, “I mean, how could we have known at the beginning of this year that my father would be dying right now? He has always been so healthy, you know? How do we really know anything?”
At that moment, my shoulders relaxed as I realized that woman is dealing with something that, for her, is significantly more pressing for her tender, raw heart. Perhaps she doesn’t have it in her at this moment to feel the weight of the rest of it, but I’ll bet she will, eventually.
So, let’s all commit to taking several deep breaths before reacting.
Our humanity will be what helps us overcome these divides; dehumanizing one another will not.
Take care, hold space for yourself, for your friends, and be aware.
With gratitude,
Marisol
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