Indivisible?

There is, obviously, a large amount of angst in our country right now. Despite his best attempts at doublespeak and spin, Donald Trump has the lowest approval rating of any recent president upon inauguration. Congress's approval ratings are even lower. Those who voted for Trump are, many of them, having a bit of buyer's remorse. Or, if not full out buyer's remorse, at least a fair amount of concern about what they've wrought.

And, honestly, they should. Sorry to offend, and all that, but if you voted for Trump, you SHOULD be worried. Since the election it's become obvious that at least one, probably two (Putin and Assange) foreign nationals deliberately interfered in our electoral process. That's abominable. Yes, I suspect some Trump voters voted for him merely to keep Clinton out of the White House, or to keep Republicans in power. But some believed in him; those people were scammed. They should be angry, and I hope they are.

But, you know, liberals need to do a fair amount of soul searching, too. We LOVE to talk about how we're inclusive, and enlightened.

Except, we're not always so much. And our outrage at the moment proves that we're not quite as enlightened and aware as we might like to think we are.

This article, from the New York Times, states it way more eloquently than I can. We liberals are shocked by what's happening in our country right now, but sadly, for many, this is the norm. Oh, you're shocked that we might register Muslims and put mosques under surveillance? Hmm. Guess no one's ever stepped away from you when you walk into an elevator. Or crossed the street when they saw you coming. Feel like you're a stranger in this country suddenly? Well, you know, let me (or, actually, someone who really knows) tell you about this thing called the Trail of Tears. Or Little Big Horn. Or DAPL.

I marched in Raleigh last Saturday, and I loved it. I felt better afterwards than I have in three months. And, yes, I've tried to continue that good mojo. I've called. I've written. I've spoken.

But all of that, truly, doesn't mean crap if I can't at least acknowledge the fact that there are people who have been fighting for what I take for granted, for centuries.

Last year, there was outrage when a Texas social studies textbook hit the internet, because they talked about the "immigrants" from Africa who helped make America great. That's idiotic. Unless you're talking about someone who came here VERY recently, no one from Africa was an immigrant. They were slaves. They were kidnapped, thrown into ships where they were treated as less than animals, sold, and beaten. They were treated as property.

Think about that for a moment. No, really. Think about that. These were human beings that were treated as property. They could be sold. They could be disposed of. They could be inherited. They. Were. Property. No whitewashing (pun very definitely intended), no talk of "good" masters, can take away the fact that they were property.

I don't know if it's worse to be African-American or Native American. One involves being kidnapped from your home, another involves being driven from your home. I can't judge that, because I've never been either. Yes, I'm female in a world that doesn't really care that much...but I'm a white female. And, sadly, that distinction may make all the difference.

So, what do we do? I can't stop being white. And, honestly, I don't feel like anyone is asking me to.

But they are asking me to listen. REALLY listen. That means I don't jump in with my own stories, as if my piddly little, "oh, I didn't get to play football when I was 8" is the same as being told to go to the back of the line. Or moved from my land. Or told that I don't matter, at all, ever. It means I recognize that there are people who have been fighting this fight since 1972, and 1968, and 1954, and 1948, and, yes, 1919, and 1860, and 1776, and 1492. It means that I acknowledge that my white skin, as well as my middle class up-bringing, has given me opportunities that others haven't had. It means that, even if it makes me uncomfortable, even if it doesn't fit with my "oh, but I'm a LIBERAL" image of myself, I need to acknowledge when I jump to conclusions. It means I need to recognize that there may be biases, racial or otherwise, that I'm completely unaware of...and when someone tells me about them, I need to think rather than deny.

I don't mean this to be an indictment of white, middle class liberals. I actually think that we may be at a turning point where, amazingly, many of the left-wing, liberal, whatevers may be able to band together to move our country forward to a place where more of us are empowered and enfranchised.

But, oh, my sweeties - we can't do it if we're scared to look at ourselves in the mirror and confront our shortcomings.

One nation, indivisible? Yes. I believe that with all my heart. We CAN get there... but not as long as we're scared of the others who make up this complicated, conflicted, country.