Tag Archives: 2020 Election

Shock and Awe

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10:48 am, Thursday, November 5, 2020.  The US elections were two days ago and we still don’t have a declared winner, but it looks like it will be Joe Biden.

Friends on social media and in conversations are talking about how shocked they are that almost half of their fellow Americans voted for Donald Trump.  They have pivoted from being anxious about the election results to being anxious that they live in a country of—as they see it—racists, homophobes, misogynists, and people who think it’s okay to separate children from their parents and keep them in cages. 

Many Trump voters are willing to overlook the many horrible things the Trump administration has done because he’s done one thing that benefits them. I saw half a dozen interviews prior to the election where a Trump supporter was explaining his or her vote thusly: “My retirement investments have done really well in the last four years, and that’s what matters to me.”

As someone on the cusp of retirement, I get it. But guess what—the stock market surged yesterday—the day after the election, with Joe Biden the presumptive winner. The stock market has seen growth in Republican and Democratic regimes. But people associate Republicans with “good for business and investments” and that’s hard to shake.

I’m glad my investments have grown, but I also know that fewer than half of all Americans have any investments at all. I don’t want to live in a country where “I got mine” while so many of my compatriots are losing their jobs, being evicted, or going bankrupt thanks to medical bills.

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I remember the feeling of shock when George W. Bush was re-elected in 2004. I had volunteered a bit to support his opponent, John Kerry. Remember him? My fellow condo association owners hosted a Kerry for President house party. I think I did some door-to-door canvassing.  I wasn’t too worried because, who in their right mind would vote for W again after he lied to us and invaded Afghanistan (which sort of made sense because that’s where Osama bin Laden was supposed to be hiding out) and Iraq (which made no sense).

Then he won! I was stunned. The worst part was—then as now—that 50.7% of my fellow citizens were okay with this moronic war monger (wars we are still embroiled in and will be paying for decades, I might add). In 2005 I put my belongings into storage and ran away to the UK and Ireland for a year. When you’re 4,000 miles away, the sins of your own country don’t feel so real.  But that wasn’t a long-term solution, if I wanted to be part of the solution.

Trump makes Bush look like Mr. Rogers. Still, my advice to you if you’re experiencing presidential election shock and awe: Work on accepting reality. Acceptance doesn’t equal agreement or approval. But it will help keep your soul from dying and conserve your energy for the fight.

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I worked a 15-hour day as an election judge. I live in a very blue collar precinct which is 67% people of color. A few of the 550 some voters remain vivid in my memory, like the elderly Puerto Rican woman who I helped to register. It took the assistance of three family members interpreting and running home to get documents to get it done.

A dude with a braided chin beard, sporting a Harley face mask and black leather chaps, sauntered in with a girl who appeared to be about 8 years old. She was a beautiful, charming child and we were all taken by her. We were surprised to see her come in again a few hours later, with another man. He looked like he had been spat out of a cement mixer, along with a dead cow. His clothes were filthy and splattered with what looked like blood. Did this girl have two dads, or was one grandpa and one her papa?  Two uncles maybe?  Were they child traffickers?  Who did they vote for?! I wouldn’t assume.  People are so complicated.

Meanwhile, Covid is wreaking havoc in my family.  More on that next time.

needs and NEEDS

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In real time, last weekend I spoke at a synagogue about my son’s incarceration and its aftermath.  There were about 20 people in attendance and I was nervous.  I rarely speak in front of groups, and this was a sensitive subject.  But it went fine.  Unfortunately, I know my stuff when it comes to being a prison mom, and authenticity carried the day.

They specifically wanted to know about challenges of re-entry into society. I described them in detail: housing (few landlords wants to rent to an ex con), employment (ditto, although some employers are known for be open minded), social support (many ex-offenders have been written off by family and friends), mental health and sobriety (it’s hard to stay on a healthy path when your housing is precarious and you can’t afford food, etc), medical and dental care (thank you, University of Minnesota School of Dentistry, for discount care!) and finances (prisoners net about 25 cents an hour in their jobs; Vince had amassed $300 after working full time for a year).

Supervision makes all of the above more difficult. A revolving door of agents can shop up at the ex-offender’s job or house anytime, day or night, and demand a urine sample.  Vince lived with me, and I had to have a landline installed because the Department of Corrections is not operating in the 21st Century yet.

The agents strictly enforce rules one day and let things slide the next; the capriciousness of the system is enough to drive anyone mad.

“What about voting rights?” someone asked.  It is thought that most ex-offenders would vote Democratic if allowed to vote.

“To be honest, that’s the least of their concerns, for sure when they are first released,” I replied.

Think of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.  Ex-offenders are struggling at the bottom.

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A few days later I was at a friend’s house.  She and a neighbor agreed they want a Democratic presidential candidate who will bring about drastic—not incremental—change. Free college education.  Reparations for slavery.  Medicare for all.  Green New Deal.

I think about my coworkers at the YMCA.  They’re a racially diverse group of mostly blue collar young people who will probably vote Democratic—if they vote.

In nine months since I’ve worked there, none of them has ever talked about climate change, institutional racism, voting rights, or gender-neutral bathrooms.

Their concerns are: Where can I get the best deal on snow tires?  Should I make tacos or spaghetti for dinner tonight?  Should I color my hair red or get highlights or keep it black?

My coworkers aren’t at the very basic level of needs, but I worry.  If the Dems choose a candidate that Trump can paint as “extreme,” I don’t think ex-prisoners or my coworkers will vote at all.

It’s not that they’re incapable of understanding higher-level issues.  It’s that they have more basic needs demanding their attention and they’re not going to get fired up about a candidate who lectures from a flip chart about emissions trading.

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In Nara, I deployed my secret weapon, a stash of five pills leftover from one of my Restless Legs Syndrome prescriptions.  I slept well for the first time in 16 nights and was giddy with energy when I awoke.  Lynn was still asleep so I hung out in the huge bathroom and made coffee with this …

… while I talked to Vince on Facebook.

“I think it must have taken five mechanical engineers to design this,” I said as I demonstrated it to my son.

Vince laughed at the thing.  “Bring me one, will you?” he requested, “so I can show it to my coworkers in the kitchen?”

“Will do,” I replied.  The connection failed so I took selfies of myself in the Nara Hotel yukata.  I never take selfies, so you know I was feeling good.

“Why don’t you just take medication every night?” Lynn asked later.  Fair question.

“Because it works, and then it stops working, and then I need to take more and more, and then it starts to actually make the symptoms worse, and then I have to go through an excruciating withdrawal process,” I explained.

“But for today, I feel human again!”