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It took five days for the 2020
election to be called for former Vice President Joe Biden. Five days
with me peeled to the television and the internet. Five days holding
my breath. Five days, meditating and praying for strength. I could
not imagine four more years of Trump. I actually started going
through my belongings, trying to decide which one would make the cut
for my move to Ghana (yes, if the Chump had won, I was seriously
considering a transcontinental move). At 11:34 on Saturday morning,
the good news trickled down. Biden won. Kamala Harris is Madame Vice
President (MVP). People were sending funny and smart text messages.
From one friend – ‘ladies keep your shoes on; there is glass on
the floor. Exhale. Savor the feeling. Kamala’s win is a “dancing
in the street” victory for Black women, for all women, for our
nation.
From
Psalm 30:5, “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the
morning.” Well, on November 7 joy came in the morning, the
afternoon, the evening. All around the country, people celebrated.
Some of us were buoyed by the celebrations, especially their
intergenerational, multicultural, masked participation. But as horns
honked, people hollered, and people hoisted “you’re fired”
signs outside the White House, some of us wondered how much change,
exactly, we could expect from Biden-Harris. Inhale. Inhale the fact
that Donald John Trump was an extreme symptom, but not the cause, of
the structural inequities that plague our nation. Inhale the fact
that all the executive orders in the world can’t fix the racism
that is baked in the cake we call the United States. Inhale their
names, the disturbing roll of Black folks killed by white so-called
“law enforcement” officers. Inhale the macro and micro
aggressions that impact our lives.
I
will not be pessimistic in this optimistic moment, nor will I ignore
the amazing history we experienced in this election. I will simply
say, as I often do, that voting is not the most, but the least we can
do. This election reminds us that Black Votes Matter, that Turnout
matters, that, in the words of Rev. Jesse Jackson, “the hands that
picked peaches can pick presidents.” There was no blue wave; this
was a scrappy contest, with margin, in some cases, less than one
percent. There was no takeover of the Senate (yet), and Democrats
lost seats in the House of Representatives. And more than 70 million
people affirmed Donald Trump, which reveals the stark division in our
nation.
Exhale
(relief). Inhale (recognition). And then just roll your sleeves up
and get to work. Yes, there is much work to do. There are to
elections for Senate seats in Georgia. They’ll be decided on
January 5, and if Democrats can pull both off, President-elect Biden
will have the Senate he needs to make policy changes.
Meanwhile,
45 has seventy days to wreak havoc on our nation. He can randomly
fire folks, mismanage agencies (more so than he already has), develop
harmful executive orders. As of this writing he has yet to concede
the election, even though he has no possible chance of winning. His
refusal to smell the coffee slows the transition process, but since
this is about him, not about our nation, he really doesn’t care.
Yes, we have work to do. We need to roll up our sleeves and get to
it. Civic engagement is not a seasonal thing, it’s an all the time
thing. We get the government that we choose to participate in.
So
kudos to the folks like Melanie Campbell (National Coalition of Black
Civic Participation), LaTosha Brown (Black Voters Matter), Stacey
Abrams (Fair Fight) and the many others who raised awareness, got the
vote out, and then protected it. Inhale. Exhale. Get to Work!
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