The day after the election

November 5, 2008

Dear America,

I want to share with you my sense of elation and bitter despair at what took place on our nation's airwaves, polling places, voting booths, televisions, and conversations among friends and opponents over the course of two days. We waged a battle amongst ourselves the last 21 months and we need to reflect upon both the achievements we have made and the defeats that make us fight another day.

Barack Obama is the next President of the United States. The clouds parted and the sunlight shone through the sky. There was hope for tomorrow for a great deal of people who had never felt represented in American politics. The crowd roared "Yes we can" over and over in my living room. The feeling of true change took over and people talked of a better future. The weight of yesterday seemed somewhat smaller. There was a man, who did not look like me, but was a part of me up on stage telling me of a better life for myself and my children. There were children who could now imagine themselves as leaders of a new day because they saw their future up on stage.

My mother called, after his speech, crying tears of joy. She has seen more history unfold than us. She also shared the same sentiment that I did. I received the text message after our conversation that echoed my worry, "Now we have to keep him safe." She was around during the John F. Kennedy assassination and Bobby Kennedy's short battle before someone took his life. She saw change agents be persecuted and punished by people who did not agree. She tells the story on a trip with the family in our quiet walk around the Indiana University campus where she was a student, "I was standing right here when they announced that the president had been shot and was dead. I will never forget it." I was 22 and I will never forget that day.

I agree with her, in all honesty. I am not black. I do not understand the oppression that has been acted upon toward people of a different race in America. I only know what I have seen and heard. What I can witness is my own battle as a lesbian woman fighting for equality in an uncertain time. There is not a day that goes by that I don't worry about how speaking out and speaking up might affect my life. I do understand history. I have read books, seen movies, and heard stories enough to know that when words are spoken, someone judges them and acts in accordance to their own principles. We have been fighting wars on our own soil for a long time. They are called the abolition of slavery, the women's movement, the civil rights movement, the fight for immigrant rights, the gay rights movement, and many other marches, actions, and dissonance that have been practiced over time.

We have to keep him safe. We have to keep each other safe. We have to stand up together and fight. This battle, while taking one step closer toward equality, is not over.

In California, my marriage to my wife was tested. We married one year early because we were afraid of the political contributions of thinkers who were not forward. We were met with the possibility that if we waited to get married, we would wait for a long time. We took the plunge early to establish a bond between each other and our families. We promised to love one another through all things. To support one another in the struggles and the happiness. On election night, we were met with bitter feelings of a nation who refused to support that marriage. Proposition 8 is leading in the polls and does not see any reality of changing toward proving California as a tolerant land where everyone is equal. Our television commercials full of lush lands and beautiful oceans are tarnished in hate and fear. We are a state who says, "Come visit! We support 3/4 of you!"

I was deeply saddened by this news and it will continue to play a role in the feelings I have inside. I continue to be a second-class citizen in both my state and my country. I often wonder if Barack felt that way too.

What I do know is that I have an obligation to keep fighting. I have the power to make a difference and I will. I have friends who have been nothing but supportive and have made me cry on countless occassions by just saying, "I support you! I voted NO!" They don't do this for my approval, but they do this because they don't see me as anything less than myself. A friend. A wife. A partner. A daughter. A teacher. A student. A spiritual being.

I have an obligation to not back down. I have that obligation to them and to myself. The minute I let myself believe that I am not equal, I have lost. With their support and love, I feel 100% American. I feel 100% Californian. So while the clouds parted and the sunshine flowed through, there are still some dark spots keeping us cold. We can not forget our role in making history, but we can not be complacent and stop fighting.

Years from now, I will take my children and wife on a trip to Iowa. I will walk them over to the apartment where I used to live and show them the place where I heard that their mom and I would possibly not be married anymore. I will tell them "I was standing right here when they elected an African American man as President of the United States. I also was right here when they tried to take my rights as a Californian away. I will never forget that day." And then my children will take me and my wife aside and say, "Wow! How could people have done that? We will never do that to anyone ever." And I will say, "It was a different time. A time of much fear and of much more hope. We have come a long way, but must never forget the past and where we once were. What you can never forget are those people that are a part of your lives and once supported, and still support, your mom and I. They are the real hero's." The will be like me, at 22 with my mother, and they will never forget that moment.

At that time, we will have our rights and know that all was naught. We have to keep Barack Obama safe and we MUST keep each other safe. This is a time of great anguish for many of us, but also a time of great cheer. We know who is behind us and who we need to educate. We must keep each other safe from what is to come. We must be the change we wish to see in the world. If not us, who will protect our children and their future? I want to be able to teach my children that all men and women are created equal and have equal rights under the law. Isn't that the greatest gift we learned last night? That any of us, no matter the race or historical inequality, can come out and take the nation in a new direction of change and of hope? That's something to fight for. So, let's keep each other safe in the battle.

Prop 8 is not the end of this. Brown v. Board was not the end of this. We still have many miles to go before we sleep. Many miles to go before we can say, "YES WE CAN!"

With honor and respect,

Stacy