Telling My Daughters She Lost. And He Won.

WARNING: UNEDITED - I DID NOT TAKE DEEP BREATHS BEFORE PRESSING SEND.

This morning the girls woke up next to me in my big cozy bed. It was snowing and grey outside. Fitting. They jumped up to see if Kamala won, so excited, like Christmas morning.

They ran out to ask Daddy. He had to tell them the gut wrenching truth. They ran back in with terrified expressions on their faces. Jumping back on the bed and joining me under the covers where I can barely move.

“Trunk won!? Trunk won? Wait. Kamala isn’t going to be President?”

“I am so sorry babies. Yes he won. We are staying home from school today to be together.”

“Is he going to enslave us, Mommy? Is he going to slay us?”

I can’t honestly answer for sure. I drag myself out of bed, drink a lot of coffee, hug my husband, cry more, and we try to piece together how to tell our daughters that not only is this country not ready - perhaps will never be ready - for a woman to lead, but that this evil man won.

So they made art. They started to draw their feelings after pancakes - Emotion Monsters - and turned up the music: Beyonce.

They know how to move through these feelings better than I do.

I am embarrassed by my hope. Of course I am not surprised. But deep down I wanted to believe most of us are good. Most of us see the truth and can feel what is right and wrong. That most of us believe in voting for more than just ourselves and our own gas prices. Our own race.

I wanted to believe that most of us believe in women. Believe women. That it was finally a Black woman’s turn. That Saxon’s mom, who loves Kamala, who had the biggest yard signs on the block, could have this win. Just this one time. After all she’s been through.

I was wrong. Again. I still live here. In my little blue box of a state in my little blue neighborhood, terrified of going into the mountains, the woods, into nature, where the red takes over and my family feels unsafe.

My imagination has been stolen. Everyone who voted for Trump lost their imaginations a long time ago. I want to be sad for them, but I’m too angry. Maybe down the road I’ll find that capacity. For now, rage. And trying to make sure I protect my daughter’s imaginations as long as possible.

I imagined a world where my daughters will someday look like their President. It mattered to me. How naive I was! Wow.

My feeling of freedom as a woman and mother of Black daughters is diminished. Where can we go to feel safe? I always imagine living elsewhere, but now it’s more of a plan. And even that has some serious white privilege in it: “Oh things are hard? Go be a capitalist consumer on someone else’s land without invitation!”

But this is the first morning my husband said, “Maybe Uruguay?”

Maybe….

“Why is he mean, Mommy?”

I want to tell them something easy like, “oh honey, hurt people hurt,” or “he just doesn’t want to go to jail” or “He’s like Mayor Humdinger in Paw Patrol, he only thinks about himself and wants to rule the world.”

Are they ready? They have to be. To hear about the legacy of slavery and racism in this country. This is forcing us to have these conversations. A stolen youth. A stolen innocence. Over and over.

This is all so simple. This is white supremacy at work. This is sexism and classism and all the nasty roots of this country that have always been sick and now, the sick roots have given birth to this blossoming of fear, hatred and vitriol. It’s all out now, baby.

No illusion. No surprise. Just a dark long road that we will travel together. Hand in hand. I trust this. It will bring us closer to our people, even if that group of people gets smaller and smaller.

If there is any silver lining it’s that the truth is powerful, and we will become closer to our neighbors, closer to each other, more reliant on our local communities to survive, thrive and live as best we can under the circumstances. I’m lucky to live in Colorado, but millions of women are not. My heart breaks for them.

This is literally a crash course on how a white man can do anything and everything evil and a woman has to be perfect to even has a fighting chance. And still, he wins. Why am I surprised? I guess I loved feeling hopeful. I loved believing in us, in her, in our goodness.

Will he take our Medicaid away? Will he get detailed reports from my OB GYN? I don’t know. Will he make life harder for us? Yes. Would Kamala have made life better for our family? Yes. Will we have to get a gun now? I don’t know. Will he deport our neighbors for seeming Mexican, even the ones who voted for him? I don’t know. Do we need a bunker with a lot of canned goods? I don’t know.

We weren’t worried about Democrats becoming violent or trying to stop the vote. We have always only been worried about Trump voters. They terrify us. All of them.

Question of the day: If you voted for Trump, how do you explain your decision to my two Black daughters?

What kind of world is this, where we as parents tell our children about how being kind and helping others is how you become successful, when this man is the opposite? That’s confusing. Be a bully and lie and you get ahead. I guess that aligns with Capitalism, which is the real problem here.

What would be so wrong with some more socialism, where we all feel equal and safe and secure and taken care of, just a little? What feels so dangerous about that? Is it the sharing? Is it that you don’t know who you are without whiteness? Why are you ruled by your fear? It’s made you a sheep. A monster. Meanness is winning and I’m scared it’s going to make me mean right back.

The message is clear: be white to succeed, preferably a man. And be as nasty as you like. Hurt women, and women will vote for you, because many white women identify more with their whiteness then their womanhood. I just honestly can’t believe it, but I can. Don’t know which is worse.

I knew it would get rough when the feminine shift happened. They would fight like hell to hold on to white power. I didn’t know so many damn people would vote for him. Again. Fool me once….

This doesn’t feel like my country anymore. But maybe it never was.

As a woman who has been sexually assaulted, this is another attack. I have lost years of my life due to stress since he came on the scene. He’s made me and countless others more anxious and depressed. Triggered. Scared. And he’s back.

I cannot imagine being curious anymore about why people voted for him again. It’s just so obvious. Whiteness above all else. In their reality, it would be worse for a Black woman to be President than for this criminal predator to be President, according to the mythology of white supremacy.

You cannot love my family and vote for him. It just doesn’t add up. I have to draw the line somewhere. This is that somewhere.

This is what it is. I have to fight for my children and my family now more than ever. I thought we were all in this together. But we are not. I have to be ok with this.

Growing up is about boundaries and weeding out your human garden and no more asking permission to live. Let’s get back to our roots of love, kindness and hope, after we cry and rest today. Or all week.

This is my truth. It’s so fucking painful. This hurts so bad. And feels way too familiar.

I’m so sorry for my babies. I am so sorry for all my dear ones. Especially the women. Especially the Black women. I am so sorry.

We tried our best. We did our best.

I am so sorry Kamala.

Love,
Britt

Dearest Seylah and Nya,

Love will always win. Don’t believe anything they say about you. We will work every day to make the world a more just and beautiful place for you, your family and our community. Every action is a vote. You matter and you count and you are cherished.

Remember: This is your world, you are loved, you are perfect just the way you are, and you can be anything you want to be. Except President.

Let’s go sledding and have hot chocolate and make banana bread and check on our friends.

Love,

Your Mommy

Dear Denver,

Join me for hugs, love, community, tears and laughter. To be together. Unsent Body Edition Nov 16th 8pm. Please come. We must be together and this is a warm and safe place to do that. Togetherness and community building is the only name of the game now. Seriously. Hope to hug you there. B