Sometimes, what we see can make us forget what we know.
The swirling storm of bad news can craft a nihilistic narrative in our heads, one where possibility is drained away and hopelessness begins to settle in.
I know that all too well.
And today, I guess I just wanted to remind myself (and maybe some of you) of the other State of the Union.
We know the version we hear from one person or one small group of people—and we know the other half of the truth.
We know, because we are here on the ground in the trenches of our daily lives; in communities we love, alongside people we know, building the America that actually is, too.
And yes, we’re well-aware of the horrors of these days: the human rights violations, the daily gaslighting, and the abject cruelty of those holding power. We know their peerless corruption and their limitless enmity, and we know how sickening it all is and how exhausted we all are because of it.
But we know something else, too. We know what we've seen with our own eyes as we've lived and worked and created here:
We've seen millions of ordinary people becoming activists, engaging with the political process in their local communities in ways they never have before; running for office, opposing legislation, registering voters.
We've seen vast multitudes marching in the streets in solidarity with vulnerable communities, expressing shared outrage at the human rights atrocities created by our own Government.
We've seen churches and clergy embrace their calling to be true sanctuaries; giving protection and rest to exhausted, terrified refugee families, who find themselves assailed by those who would use them as propaganda for a fake news story designed to engender fear.
We've seen churches and moms’ groups assemble at PRIDE parades to offer warm, unashamed embraces to let LGBTQ people know they are seen and loved and supported, and that they do not need to change.
We've seen ordinary people leveraging their social media platforms to expose corruption and protest inhumane legislation, pressuring elected officials into representing them instead of their own interests.
We've seen border walls opposed, Muslim bans fail, and healthcare repeals defeated, and states defying unjust Presidential decree, as good people have raised their voices en masse.
We’ve seen teenage shooting victims lead the charge against the proliferation of assault weapons, becoming a national movement of young people that will not allow the gun makers and the politicians who profit from them to kill with impunity.
We've seen our judiciary stand up time and time again to defend our Constitution and our people from those who would disregard both.
We've seen courageous men and women step from the shadows of unmerited shame to name their abusers, to pull them into the raking light of accountability, and to allow other sexual assault victims to speak their truth.
We seen loud, defiant caretakers of love and diversity outnumber and chase away Nazis and supremacists as they attempt to intimidate good people into silence on street corners.
We seen thousands of people in progressive churches and women’s groups and civic gatherings and humanist conferences and interfaith services, all standing together to say that the cruelty coming from the Oval Office does not speak for them, that it is not our America, that it is not who we are.
We've seen the very best of humanity rise up in the face of the most inhumane behavior.
This is the other state of the Union. That America is Black and gay and Muslim and indigenous and undocumented and Jewish and lesbian and White and Atheist and Latino and transgender and female and immigrant and Christian and male and agnostic and Buddhist and bisexual and Sikh.
It is We the Actual People here, doing the messy, difficult, painful work of making it great.
It is America the f*ckin' beautiful in all its radiant, glorious diversity.
It is the country of the table makers and not the wall builders.
It is a Republic that refuses to consent to vitriol, to surrender hope, to abandon empathy.
It is a nation of tired, disheartened, disillusioned people who still have enough strength to give a damn about more than only those who look or talk or worship or love the way they do.
It is a Union attacked and terrorized and betrayed from within; one that has seen far better days—but one that will not let one man or a handful of men keep it from seeing better days again.
It is a defiant declaration of liberty for everyone.
So, never mind what one small, petty, hateful, traitorous man or those who worship him say.
Pay no attention to the gaslighting or the fake news or the scary stories.
Don't listen to the liars.
Listen to the voice inside you that refuses to relent.
We are not dead yet, not by a long shot.
This is the other state of the Union and we have to fight like hell for it.
In the comments, talk about the other America that you have seen with your own eyes, and why and how it encourages you to keep going.
It took me a long time to get ready for a new battle. Crawling out from under the covers where I'd retreated the morning after the election was not easy. In some ways, being an older person helped me, I think. I am of the vintage where we learned about patriotism in school, saluted the flag every day, sang the songs of our country, and had a dad who fought fascism in Europe during WWII.
One aspect of the current battle made it exponentially more difficult for me to gird my loins and take to the streets because, as a gay person, I thought the battle had been fought and won. I underestimated the hatred for my kind by people who seem to think it's any of their business.
In the new world where the term "patriot" has a negative connotation in many cases, I'm still one. I'm not ashamed of the feelings I have for my country. I'm ashamed right now of many people in this country, but I still see the light of hope rising in those who see the need to fight. There are still countless individuals who remain proud and hopeful about setting our nation back on course, no matter what it takes in the way of personal commitment. I listened to you, John, when you told us we needed to pick a hill on which we were willing to die.
I recently published an essay on Substack about joining a movement to fight fascism. I took the next step the other day and got an ANTIFA tattoo on my right arm. I'll be sure it's visible the next time I'm holding a protest sign. I'm ready to find my people and rise up together to make a difference. I firmly believe there are enough of us left to do that.
I have seen a 19 y.o. young person ask three old people "why are all of you out here protesting" and actually listen and engage in a 30 min convo. That gives me lots of hope. Embrace the young, folks.