I was in Marrakesh, Morocco on that dreadful morning in 2016, at the COP UN Climate change conference. This was one year after the historic Paris agreement, which T**p had vowed to pull the United States out of if elected. He had also vowed to ban Muslims from entering the US. I was with 10 undergraduate students, many of them political science majors. We went to bed confident that all would be well and woke up to a changed world.
My students were shell shocked, almost catatonic. Breakfast at the hotel was silent. We walked to the conference site, where they were followed and harassed by reporters wanting an American point of view. By the end of the day we were all pretending to be Canadians.
I can't believe we are back here, eight years later. My husband is French and can't believe that any of this is happening: the vulgar language, the insults, the lies, the obvious stupidity and incompetence. In France any one of those is immediately disqualifying for political office. And yet half of my fellow citizens are seemingly willing to vote for burning it (The Great Experiment) to the ground.
What a beautiful read and so right on. I remember that day in 2016 - the stunned silence and disbelief. Thank you for reminding me, as I sit in the fear of the possibility of him winning, to have hope in everyday beauty - all that we can control. You are such an amazing writer dear Elissa. Thank you for helping lift me out of this anxiety of waiting — ❤️
In January, 2017, just before the inauguration, I was with colleagues at our annual meeting. We were all in horror at what was about to happen and I said to a friend, a black man, something like how awful this was going to be. He said, I’m kind of glad in a way. Now white people are about to see the magnitude and extent of racism that black people have always known existed.
Beauty is the only thing that saves me. Either noticing it or making it (typically knitting something, or singing around the house—not that I have a nice voice, but music is beauty). For weeks I’ve felt, oddly, in a state of utter equilibrium in the face of either possible outcome of the election. Because either way, all I can do is keep doing the best I can with what little I have. Maybe a case of less is more?
I understand what you're saying about the equilibrium - I feel it too. Perhaps there's an element of exhaustion in it; from the worry, the fear, from trying to shield ourselves from being splashed by the outrage so wildly flung about. From trying to maintain hope, cultivate kindness and peace in the face furor.
Keep singing; keep knitting. Keep being a candle in the evening gloom.
Read it aloud to my partner, tears streaming down my face. We both make a living creating with our hands (luthier/musician and baker/blockprintmaker) and that has saved us many a times through dark and sorrowful times. It’s what we have. It’s what we can give no matter.
A thoughtful and profoundly sad story of our times. The memory of that day following the 2016 election is frankly sickening.
I, for one, am choosing to close my eyes and meditate on the image of a white dove in flight, gently gliding over our homes, lives and families bringing the promise of a kinder tomorrow.
Thank you, Elissa. I think we are all so bone tired…absolutely exhausted from the chaos. The past 8 years have been like a fever dream of worry and fear and disbelief. Praying that saner minds prevail and that our democracy holds 💙
I am so moved by this penetrating tour de force, Elissa. What a pitch perfect take on our current circumstances and the crucial things at stake right now.
Yes, some deja vu. How it can still be such a close race is bewildering, scary and agonizing. I keep fervently hoping for a Harris landslide win but expecting we won’t know the result for a while, maybe not until Dec. 11 when the states certify the votes. In the meantime, we need to keep ourselves safe and focused on what gets us through each day. Elissa, your essay is a beautiful example of how to do that.
So many feelings! I find this essay grounding, calming, hopeful… and I know I’ll be reading it again in the coming days and weeks. I voted two weeks ago and have been canvassing and making calls since then. Trying now to disconnect from news and social media until Wednesday, give myself a quiet, safe space ahead of the noise that’s coming regardless of election results. I know we probably will not have a final result for several days or longer and accept that reality but my gut feels a huge shift coming…praying it is right! 💙
I was in Marrakesh, Morocco on that dreadful morning in 2016, at the COP UN Climate change conference. This was one year after the historic Paris agreement, which T**p had vowed to pull the United States out of if elected. He had also vowed to ban Muslims from entering the US. I was with 10 undergraduate students, many of them political science majors. We went to bed confident that all would be well and woke up to a changed world.
My students were shell shocked, almost catatonic. Breakfast at the hotel was silent. We walked to the conference site, where they were followed and harassed by reporters wanting an American point of view. By the end of the day we were all pretending to be Canadians.
I can't believe we are back here, eight years later. My husband is French and can't believe that any of this is happening: the vulgar language, the insults, the lies, the obvious stupidity and incompetence. In France any one of those is immediately disqualifying for political office. And yet half of my fellow citizens are seemingly willing to vote for burning it (The Great Experiment) to the ground.
What a beautiful read and so right on. I remember that day in 2016 - the stunned silence and disbelief. Thank you for reminding me, as I sit in the fear of the possibility of him winning, to have hope in everyday beauty - all that we can control. You are such an amazing writer dear Elissa. Thank you for helping lift me out of this anxiety of waiting — ❤️
In January, 2017, just before the inauguration, I was with colleagues at our annual meeting. We were all in horror at what was about to happen and I said to a friend, a black man, something like how awful this was going to be. He said, I’m kind of glad in a way. Now white people are about to see the magnitude and extent of racism that black people have always known existed.
That is a truly horrible and excellent point.
Beauty is the only thing that saves me. Either noticing it or making it (typically knitting something, or singing around the house—not that I have a nice voice, but music is beauty). For weeks I’ve felt, oddly, in a state of utter equilibrium in the face of either possible outcome of the election. Because either way, all I can do is keep doing the best I can with what little I have. Maybe a case of less is more?
I understand what you're saying about the equilibrium - I feel it too. Perhaps there's an element of exhaustion in it; from the worry, the fear, from trying to shield ourselves from being splashed by the outrage so wildly flung about. From trying to maintain hope, cultivate kindness and peace in the face furor.
Keep singing; keep knitting. Keep being a candle in the evening gloom.
May daylight come.
"Art is private prayer made public."
Love that line.
Read it aloud to my partner, tears streaming down my face. We both make a living creating with our hands (luthier/musician and baker/blockprintmaker) and that has saved us many a times through dark and sorrowful times. It’s what we have. It’s what we can give no matter.
Elise-
A thoughtful and profoundly sad story of our times. The memory of that day following the 2016 election is frankly sickening.
I, for one, am choosing to close my eyes and meditate on the image of a white dove in flight, gently gliding over our homes, lives and families bringing the promise of a kinder tomorrow.
Thank you, Elissa. I think we are all so bone tired…absolutely exhausted from the chaos. The past 8 years have been like a fever dream of worry and fear and disbelief. Praying that saner minds prevail and that our democracy holds 💙
That was beautiful. Thank you.
I am so moved by this penetrating tour de force, Elissa. What a pitch perfect take on our current circumstances and the crucial things at stake right now.
Thank you. 🙏🏽💛💫🐾
Thank you for these gentle and lovely reminders. Art will save us. The little things will lift us up. The river will sooth us. Love will bind us.
Thank you. Sobbing.
Yes, some deja vu. How it can still be such a close race is bewildering, scary and agonizing. I keep fervently hoping for a Harris landslide win but expecting we won’t know the result for a while, maybe not until Dec. 11 when the states certify the votes. In the meantime, we need to keep ourselves safe and focused on what gets us through each day. Elissa, your essay is a beautiful example of how to do that.
Thank you so much for this beautiful essay. It's exactly what I needed.
So many feelings! I find this essay grounding, calming, hopeful… and I know I’ll be reading it again in the coming days and weeks. I voted two weeks ago and have been canvassing and making calls since then. Trying now to disconnect from news and social media until Wednesday, give myself a quiet, safe space ahead of the noise that’s coming regardless of election results. I know we probably will not have a final result for several days or longer and accept that reality but my gut feels a huge shift coming…praying it is right! 💙