What to say?

I can, of course, think what I want, just like everyone else. I simply have to refrain from saying everything I think.- Margrethe II of Denmark

So the gray day is slipping into a heavy and mournful night, and I am sitting here at my kitchen island, and my computer is beckoning me to write.

What do I say?

There were so many things already said today. All too soon, words of hope, promises of unity, speeches filled with apologies and encouragement, expressions of grief, texts filled with mockery, and lines of despair had been spoken, tweeted, posted, and editorialized.

What is left to tell you?

There is this. I am broken and lost, yet grateful that I have a voice and that I’m breathing.

From the margins of this country, especially those without a voice, many are quietly wincing in pain and confusion. They are feeling a great deal. Their suffering is real, the feeling of being on the outside and not mattering to any of you is powerful, and it is awful.

I know you can’t see them, because your own feeling of worthlessness brought you to think that our establishment didn’t see you. I know that you were just trying to wave a white flag to our nation in your vote. You wanted to say, “I’m here, I want to be heard, and I surrender!”

I am sorry that you felt that way. I can never say I truly understand because I never walked in your shoes.

Yet, now here we are. Some of us are afraid, some are grateful, some are energized, some are sad, some are filled with expectation, some want to run away, and perhaps all of us are surprised, just a little bit.

I just want to tell you that those on the margins, including my very own children, are hurting tonight.

My youngest, intelligent, and bright, a transgender woman, did her makeup so she’d look pretty (and she did) as she went to class.  She is going out to eat tonight with her partner to try to forget what happened today. My oldest (so bold and beautiful), also a LGBTQI community member, said she thought today would be the best day of her life, as she welcomed the first woman president to office, and now said it is the worst day ever. They are both very sad and feeling isolated. But they have their family and friends, and they have love.  They have a voice.

What about those who don’t belong to a family or those who do not know love?  What about those who are voiceless and alone?  Tonight, they sit in a state of complete hopelessness. I want you to know this, and I kindly request that you remain quiet and respectful. Please don’t hurt them anymore!

Policies will change that will impact my own children’s lives, for the remainder of their lives, but they will be loved.

My own precious children will possibly lose freedoms. They are already losing hope.

I will encourage them to raise their voices loud and clear, and they will be heard.  Will you hear them?

Those on the margins of our country need our gentle support and guidance, not our anger and condemnation. I just saw reports on the internet of eight transgender youth who’ve committed suicide since last night, and though I have no documentation of this as fact, it is for them (and those like them) that I fear.

People with disabilities, people who are gay, people who are transgender, people who are undocumented, people of color, people with mental illness, people who are homeless, they, and others, are all on the margins of this beautiful and incredible country. They need to be seen waving their white flags! They are here.

They want you to hear them, even if they are too weak to speak. They surrender to you. You won, for now.

What do I tell you?

Listen. Look. See.

Please be kind. Think before you speak, tweet, or post!

And, lastly, know that I have a voice and I am breathing. This will certainly not be the last time I have something to say.