Not While I'm Around

Nothing's gonna harm you
Not while I'm around
Nothing's gonna harm you
No sir, not while I'm around
Demons are prowling everywhere nowadays
I'll send them howling, I don't care, I've got ways
No one's gonna hurt you
No one's gonna dare
Others can desert you
Not to worry, whistle I'll be there
Demons'll charm you with a smile for a while
But in time
Nothing can harm you, not while I'm around
Being close and being clever
Ain't like being true
I don't need to, I would never 
Hide a thing from you
Like some
No one's gonna hurt you
No one's gonna dare
Others can desert you
Not a worry, whistle I'll be there
Demons'll charm you with a smile for awhile
But in time
Nothing can harm you
Not while I'm around

-S. Sondheim

It is next to impossible for me to fully understand, let alone explain, the depth of my sadness for this country right now. In what will surely go down as the strangest inauguration day in U.S. history, I am gut-wrenched at the thought of the term that is to follow. And the unsettling juxtaposition of the same week ending with this day that started on the day we celebrated the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. cannot, for me, be understated. 

My oldest son and I had talked a lot about Dr. King and the importance of the third Monday in January recently. During those conversations I tried, deliberately, to keep the discussion relevant to today, instead of making it a "back in the day" topic. I was not always successful in doing so, however. Once, when I was attempting to explain again why some people don't believe in equality for all, my son asked me, "Mama, do we still have people like that?" I paused. "Yes," I said. "We just elected one of them president." Now, I didn't elect him president. A majority of voters didn't even elect him president. But I thought the electoral college was too off-topic and a bit much for my son at that moment. He is, after all, only four-and-a-half. 

I did not cast my vote for that man. Never. But I do have acquaintances and even family members who did. They cast a vote for a man who is an adversary to anyone who isn't a rich, white, male (I was going to make a list of those to whom he has shown to be an adversary to, but it's a long list). And that is over-stating it, because even if you are rich, white, and male, you still cannot be someone who disagrees with him. Anyone who disagrees with him is wrong, or stupid, or worse. And I know people who voted for him! And, yes, "your vote, your choice" and all of that. Except now I have to explain to my children why, in 2017 in The United States of America, we have a Commander in Chief who has been an outright asshole to, not just the marginalized, but anyone who doesn't agree with him. Like a toddler. Or a spoiled brat. Or a dictator.

I am at a loss. A loss for words, a loss for joy, a loss for hope. I so badly want to be one of those people who is rolling up her metaphorical sleeves to #nevernormalize and to fight like hell for the next two and four years (please, god, let's not even think of eight...). But I am at a loss. The only thing I can do is hold onto my children extra tight and fill them with all the love and security and hope and joy I am struggling to find for myself right now. I need them to know they are safe with me. They are my Reason. They are why I must, once my voice returns, speak of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and Stonewall, and the NWSA, and the ADA, and BLM, and on and on. Because one day, when my son asks me if we still have people here in the Land of the Free who do not believe that all people are free, I want to be able to say, "Yes, but not for long."