Good Morning

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister’s eyes, into
Your brother’s face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.
[maya angelou]

I always forget the aftermath. How with every emotional investment, there is this on the flipside, this whole feeling-like-I’ve-been-run-over-by-a-bus thing. This week has been an emotional roller coaster. I’ve flown across the country, worked without sitting or stopping or sleeping to get out the vote and then spent 17 straight hours working the polls. And then the win, the wins! The presidency. Virginia. Nevada. New Mexico. Colorado. Indiana. And my friend Matt won his race and is now Connecticut State Representative Matt Lesser from the 100th District (I know, right?! how awesome is he?). So much joy and I am not at all ashamed to admit that I cried over and over again.

And then the day I flew home, a new family member was born (Welcome to the world Baby Wills!) and I found that Prop 8 has indeed passed and many of my loved ones are once again second-class citizens in California, which took the wind out of my sails and reminded me how much work we have left to do. How much work we must do to ensure that the civil rights of all people are intact.

And then yesterday was the anniversary of the death of my friend, David.  I cannot believe it has been a year and my thoughts are with Lisa and the rest of his family and friends. These moments are so bittersweet and I just cannot believe that he and Charlie and Sara are just not here anymore, were not able to fight this fight with us and revel in this awakening because they would have loved it.

Charlie’s parents (our neighbors & best friends) loaned me his car to use when I was in Indiana. It was waiting for me in the driveway when I arrived and they had painted it. On the front it said “Obama,” backwards and in huge letters so that people would see it in the rearview mirror. On the back it said simply, HOPE.

I drove it around all weekend, and it meant so much to me to have a piece of him with me on this journey. He loved Obama and I know he would have loved to watch our home state light up bright blue. When I climbed into the car on the way-too-early mornings, I could feel him nudging me gently to just push a little bit harder and it was easy to, for him.

And I thought so often of Sara, and how she would have reveled in the slew of first-time voters who practically danced up to the flimsy cardboard booths, grinning in anticipation, feeling like they mattered. She always believed in the power of hope, and the good in people and I missed her in every triumphant moment.

This campaign has affected me deeply. Not so much because of Barack Obama, though of course he played a role. Because it has reminded me of the incredible power of community. Because it has pushed back against the cynicism that had begun to eat at my edges. And in its place have sprung new vulnerabilities, which feel raw and open and scary and above all, beautiful.

Good Morning.