At least this time we know

We know who he is. We know he likes to golf. We know he likes watching TV and rage-posting on social media. We know he listens to those who flatter him and attacks those who disagree with him. We know he governs on gut feel, what sounds good to him in the moment, without core principles driving the bus. At least we know who he is.

We know what he’s capable of. He’s already committed high crimes and misdemeanors. He’s been found liable for sexual assault. He’s started an insurrection against the US government. He can whip up violent and frenzied crowds. He can do it again. At least we know what he’s capable of.

We know we took our best shot. Maybe it doesn’t feel that way today, with a near-complete electoral wipeout, but it felt this bad, it felt this hopeless back in July before Biden dropped out. It was nice to have a few months of hope. It was nice to read The Truths We Hold, Kamala Harris’s book released in 2020, and feel like we had a generational talent coming up to the plate. That choice may be debated, perhaps for decades, but it felt right at the time. At least we took our best shot.

We know that this is America, this is what America wants, and this is who we are. There’s no equivocation anymore. His pitch landed. Break the wheel, blame the “other”, rinse and repeat. But in some ways, that makes me feel better. As much as I want to feel like this isn’t me, this is America, and it’s time for me to accept that. The ugliness, the anger, the lack of accountability, the selfishness, the violent rhetoric - perhaps this has always been us. And perhaps it’s time for me to wake up. At least we know that this really is who we are.

We know that the sun will still rise. It may get really rough. It may get really dark. The most vulnerable members of American and global society may be in danger. But the world does keep turning. It always will. So I can’t succumb to cynicism or fatalism - I have to find a path forward, something to believe in. And the path forward I choose is fueled by love for my fellow human, regardless of where they live, where they come from, and who they voted for. I choose to be one of the helpers, one of the good ones, no matter what we have coming up. Because at least we know that the sun will still rise.

We don’t know, but perhaps we can hope, that some folks are tired of the constant fighting. Of feeling like they don’t recognize their country if their political party doesn’t win the election. Of feeling scared of the future, scared of each other, scared of living. I think back to a much-memed Trump rally in October where he decided to cut short his speech, stop taking questions, and decided instead to dance to music for 39 minutes. We made fun of the moment, but perhaps it’s accidentally symbolic. Is this what we need? To stop yelling at each other and to start listening to music in a room together? Was Trump himself tired of the negativity, even for a moment, that he showed us a path forward? I hope so. Because while I don’t know, I really hope that most of us are tired of the constant fighting.