brushfire"This, yes, this, it was always like this." -Stanley Koehler
REFLECTIONS OF AN EMPTY NESTER
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Early the morning after the 2016 presidential election, my cell phone rang. The name of a friend I hadn't heard from in a while lit up on the display. “Hey Debbie, what’s up?” I said. “I just needed to call someone today,” she said. “Someone who understands the way I feel.” Suddenly it made sense. We live in a wealthy, conservative suburb in a state that voted red for the first time since 1988. As liberals facing a Trump presidency, we found ourselves even more adrift. My husband and I put up Obama signs in 2008 and 2012, but we hesitated to post a Hillary sign in 2016. Not that we weren’t with her; we were. But this election seemed more polarizing than ever. Debbie and I checked in on each other over the next day or so. Looking back, I realize her impulse to reach out reflected a feeling many of us shared, waking up one morning to a country that suddenly seemed alien. To go from Obama — to this? It was unconscionable. Many of us found comfort in a new Facebook page called Pantsuit Nation, a tribute to — well, you know who. Then emerged a private — later changed to secret — local page with members inviting other members into our growing ranks. As it turns out, Debbie and I and our husbands weren’t so alone after all. There were a lot of us, hiding in plain sight in our tony little town. Men and women joined, but mostly women. Women who resisted. Women who persisted. Women who offered advice and counsel, from help with an LGBTQ bullying issue to analyzing the intricacies of the emoluments clause. Even though many of us were strangers, we knew it was a safe space to voice our concerns, share our ideas and, above all, get organized. What started as commiseration, shared adoration of Barack Obama and a mutual distaste for — well, you know who — quickly evolved into action. The power of the page was put to an early test. Less than a week after the election, a brouhaha developed over an announcement on the intercom by a local high school principal responding to complaints from students who felt intimidated by Trump supporters. Unfortunately, in his call for unity and pledge to make the school a safe place, the principal forgot to include straight white Christian students. A student reported home to her mother, who contacted the superintendent with accusations of inappropriate, divisive and unlawful behavior. Chastising the principal — who happens to be Muslim — was not enough. She also sent an email encouraging recipients to attend the school board meeting the following evening to voice their concerns. Imagine her surprise when more than 100 community members did in fact flock to the meeting. But they weren’t the people she invited; they were members of the Facebook page, summoned with one post to show their support for the principal. As of this writing, nearly 1,500 people have joined this page in a town of 45,000. Organizers of a local peace march scheduled to coincide with the women’s march in Washington, D.C., hoped for a showing of 40 participants. They ended up with 1,200. There are daily calls to action and weekly emails with a list of meetings and events. Task forces have formed, from healthcare to the environment to civil rights. Members worked behind the scenes to promote an education panel on raising global leaders and met with school administrators to discuss diversity plans. They have protested — unpaid — against the immigration ban and defunding Planned Parenthood, rallied against racism at a neighboring school district, and hosted postcard and letter writing parties. Planning is underway for the town's first pride march. New friendships blossom at weekly coffees and frequent meet-and-greets. My husband and I, having lost several friends to post-election divisiveness, attended one simply to make some new ones. And this is only the beginning. As concerned as I am for the state of our democracy with every passing news story, I am every bit as heartened by the power of what we the people are capable of. I experienced it in sheer physical numbers when I attended the women’s march in D.C. I experience it daily from my home every time I go online, deriving comfort and strength from my comrades-in-arms. They are smart, sassy, witty, compassionate and driven. And they are only now recognizing their collective power, finding their voice and marshaling their resources. I am proud to join their ranks. We are a force for the future and we are not alone.
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Mary Anne BrushJournalist, fiction writer, wife and mother |