It's November 6th and I am sitting in at the Phoenix art museum in Phoenix, Arizona. My mind is racing with excitement for the 8th of November. My first election! in any other instance, I would be so excited to take part of something so important to me. I one day hope to hold a public office and I want to have a say in my predecessors.
But as I sit here inside the building, I can't help but wonder what's going to happen the day AFTER the election. Who will win? What will happen in other countries? Will I be forced to live with some glorified sexist/racist/homophobic man who wants to take away the rights of other woman around me? Or will I be subjected to the rule of a woman who let a rapist get an easier sentence while she was a practicing lawyer and put our nation's security at risk? Or will the rare occurrence of the 3rd party prevailing come to be? I have no idea but I'm worried, regardless.
I'm sitting here looking at art. Something so beautiful and raw and pure. Something that never has to know the pain of the human experience but it is, however, the result of a human experience. It is something that will surpass the tests of time. Art is a distraction from what is going on outside and forces you the think about inside. Art can be ruined by weather, but it can't be ruined by the outside political climate outside of the walls of the museum.
It's November 10th. I'm sitting at a table with my family in Tucson, Arizona. It's two days after the election, and Donald Trump is president. There are words being exchanged from everyone about their respective party. I'm sick to my stomach. The conversation is loud and I'm trying to focus on the appetizer on my plate, only interjecting when really necessary. The only place I want to be is standing in the midst of the beauty that surrounded me not even a week ago. My happy place, the safe haven of the walls of a museum.
You may be elated by the outcome of your local election and the national election, but for as happy as you are, you may be scared to celebrate for being associated with a racist/sexist/fearful man. If someone attacks you for being happy, find your happy place. If someone attacks you for your views, find your happy place.
On the other hand, you may be absolutely terrified. You may find it hard to suppress your tears and anguish. You may want to run to the furthest place from our country. If someone attacks you for being upset, find your happy place. If someone attacks you for your views, find your happy place.
It could be your childhood bedroom, it could be the cobblestone streets of Paris, it could be next to the person you love most in this world. Find your happy place. And stay there, at least for now. Regardless of how you feel, you have the right to feel the way you do.
November 6th was my calm before the storm. Now, the day I spent there is the calm inside the storm that seems to only be getting worse.
It's a bad moment, but it won't last forever. Find your happy place.
