A Difficult Birthday for a Country

It's a challenge to celebrate with the almost unbelievable news this week.

Today, we mark the birthday of our country.

I’m struggling this 4^th of July to find a way to be in a celebratory mood. I have very mixed feelings about the red, white and blue swirling around this July. My heart is heavy. This has been a very rough week. I hoped (quite unrealistically) that the House would not succumb to the pressure and pass this absolutely heinous and tragic bill. I found out from friends as soon as it passed. I’m sad, angry, digusted and all the things. I said every swear word I could think of. I cried. Living in Texas certainly does not make it any easier to celebrate a day of freedom this year as we watch our legislature continue down the path of theocracy. I am grieving. It is hard to hold on to hope when there are friends who have lost important jobs that we, as a country need them to have to stay healthy, safe and informed; deportations, people in cages and a court system hell bent on allowing orange evil to dismantle basic human rights that it took years of blood and sweat and tears to win. People will die from the decisions this week. And, of course, those are just the highlights.

And I also know that as a white person, this is new to me. For many people of color, the 4th of July has not been a time of celebration of freedom because they have not been or felt truly free.

When I told a friend that I didn’t know how to approach the impending 4th, she reminded me of a conversation we had a day before. Don’t you hate it when your friends quote you back to yourself?! (Or maybe I secretly love it. Don’t tell her.) She asked, what did the protests even accomplish if this is where we are? And I said, we reminded each other that we’re not alone. We showed that there are A LOT of us - millions - who absolutely disagree with the direction of our country and we will not be quiet about it or allow it to bulldoze us while we do nothing. It was a hopeful celebration of resistance and those who were there with the hilarious or profound signs, the handmaids, the music, the smiles, the shared grief, humanity and the chants didn’t go anywhere. They still live here, too, we are in this together. And they are just the tip of the iceberg, because many people worked behind the scenes or didn’t feel safe attending. We are part of the 3.5% that can make a difference. And midterms will eventually come. Unfortunately, not soon enough, but these are the people that will change the imbalance of power, even if in small increments.

So, for today, I’m listening to the birds and watching the majestic red-tailed hawk sitting atop of the pole in the backyard as she surveys the trees, flowers and grass looking for another place to land or her next meal. I’m sure she sees me so I’m keeping my movements small so she will allow me in her presence a little longer. I’m looking forward to hanging out with my very loud family this evening and we will take the grandkids- my love nuggets-to watch the fireworks even if I don’t feel much like celebrating this morning. My mood will change because those sticky, loud nuggets will allow me to forget for a while about things I cannot control. I will savor the freedoms I currently enjoy in my privilege, knowing that tomorrow or next week, there are things I can do as acts of resistance. These small joys and my family are where I am getting my doses of hope from today in the midst of my grief. Where are you getting yours?

Here is a not great picture of me but I love the message of the shirt. I wore it yesterday in my deeply red area and several people I knew surprised me with their remarks that they liked my shirt. I thought that they felt differently. More little rays of hope.

Later this month, on August 28, we will meet to practice some joy together by doing some art and artivism. If you’re not an artist or feel creative in any way, have no fear…no skills needed. It’s a time to use a different part of our brain to access our joy. We will play like we did when we were kids. Did you notice, kids don’t have to be taught to play or be creative? They just are. You are, too…perhaps you’ve just forgotten. We will help you remember.

Heather and I are always here if you want to talk, message, have a one-on-one session. Our goal is to support our activists in any way we can. We need you supported so you don’t burn out. And also, because we believe in you.

Sending hope and hugs your way,

Heather and Amy