this is what democracy looks like. [west of the moon, 8 february 2017]
Two weeks ago--oh god, it really has only been two weeks. These have been a long and difficult two weeks. (Two and a half weeks, by now--it takes me forever to write anything, apparently.)
In any event. Just over two weeks ago, I went to the Women's March in New York. I took the train to Grand Central, where I was going to meet up with my friend Jen. The subway was packed, mostly with women, people in bright pink and purple hats, people carrying signs. One guy was handing out stickers that looked like the "I Voted" stickers you get at polling places, but instead they said "I Protested". Moving along with the tide of people sweeping through Grand Central Station, a group with coordinated signs began chanting. "Show me what democracy looks like? This is what democracy looks like!" And I started crying, because it felt like the first bright spark in weeks.
(Convalescent protesting is no joke, either. I managed a full day at the March that Saturday, but the cost was spending the day before and two days after mostly just resting. We've been adjusting some of my medications, including my blood pressure meds, and right up through Friday night I wasn't sure that I'd be steady enough to make it through a day out. But it was fine!)
I have been working so hard to hold on to that spark. It's been hard to write because everything feels so dark. Half of what I want to say is "ugghhhhhh" and the other half is lecturing. (History teachers: always annoying in a crisis.)
Such as: I have vehement thoughts about the legitimacy of a free press, fears of a Reichstag Fire incident, the lessons of world history. (No, seriously. Themes that have developed over a decade of teaching world history range from "encouraging the free movement of people, goods, and ideas is directly correlated to flourishing economies, cultures, and the power of states" to "control of reproduction is the single biggest factor enabling women to achieve full citizenship" to "every empire inevitably ends.") (Also it's been hard to quiet the small voice in the back of my head that keeps asking, is this what a coup looks like, in slow motion?)
While I'm in lecture mode: One of the things that most consistently frustrates me about the political landscape in the United States is the way that Republicans (construed broadly? I don't want to debate terminology: Republicans, or conservatives, or the political right) deny reality. Over and over and over again. At this point it feels like a core principle of their political ideology, that they're more committed to what seems like it should be true, and less committed to what is actually true. It's ideology-based rather than evidence-based policy. It seems like the forces of the free market should be enough to sort out economic imbalances, even though all the historical evidence shows that unfettered free markets consolidate wealth and enhance income inequality. It makes sense that unrestricted economies would also reduce discrimination, because it's not in anyone's economic interest to artificially limit their talent pool, except that history shows over and over again that prejudice overrides economic self-interest. (Oh please, at seventeen I was a libertarian, I know these arguments inside out.) It seems logical that teaching kids to not have sex will lead to kids having less sex, even though every single goddamn study ever done on the subject shows that abstince-only programs lead to more sex, earlier sex, riskier sex. You would think that restricting access to abortions would reduce the number of abortions, when in fact history and evidence and data shows the opposite is true.
Every single one of these "well it makes sense" propositions only makes sense if you're willing to rely more on implicit instincts rather than rational inquiry. Once you get in the habit of relying on rational inquiry, that whole set of "it makes sense" propositions stop seeming like they make any sense at all. Reality actually makes a lot of sense, once you start paying attention.
This could not have more clearly been on display than at the Republican National Convention last summer. If you watched it, what you saw over and over again was people talking about their feelings. Rudy Giuliani's speech was a masterclass in this; he kept talking about how Americans feel unsafe, they feel unprotected, they feel that crime rates are up and they feel that terrorism is on the rise and they feel that the government isn't doing enough to protect them. People can feel whatever the eff they want, the fact is that crime rates are down. People can feel like blocking brown people at the border will keep us safe, but the reality is that we're in more danger from angry white dudes than we are from anyone whose visa was revoked last week. (And how do you create even more of those dangerous angry white dudes? Encourage them to keep feeling like the rest of us are their enemy.)
Also, while I'm at it, I wouldn't be surprised if future historians target "America First" as the pivot that marked the end of the American empire. For a century, the United States has extended economic and cultural and political influence across the globe. It hasn't been unilaterally positive; we have a pretty solid track record of undermining the principles of democracy when they're in conflict with the corporate interest, for instance, and I wish we as a nation of educators were more willing to talk about that openly. (I mean, start with Queen Liliuokalani or Patrice Lumumba and move on from there.) But we've been a dominant presence in global affairs, and we're rapidly losing that dominance. Reasonable people can disagree about whether it's a good thing or a bad thing! But it's hard to see it not happening. I don't know how much longer we can expect American companies to be global leaders, American universities to draw the best talent, American interests to be courted in global diplomacy.
I can't do this all the time. I can't be this angry all the time. (I lost track of the attribution, but I saw what felt like a really smart comment last week: this is neither a sprint nor a marathon, it's a relay race.) At some point we'll probably have to put our bodies upon the wheels and upon the gears, as it were, but right now... you know, why isn't this that time? How will we know when it's that time? For today, for now, I still have to live my life, and I can't keep this anger in my focus all the time.
One Foot In Front of the Other, Literally
Big milestone today, in that I started cardiac rehab! Sort of. I had my first evaluation for cardiac rehab. They hooked me up to a bunch of electrodes and had me walk on a treadmill while they gradually increased the speed and the incline. Walking isn't the problem, so much; I've been pushing myself a little, and I can do quite a lot of walking with no difficulty. Inclines, on the other hand, are a beast. The guy who did the stress testing, his conclusion was that I'm basically fine but very out of shape (I think the word he used was "deconditioned") and also that I'm fat and should consider seeing a nutritionist in conjunction with the rehab classes. I agree that I should lose some weight (I've lost about ten pounds since the surgery, actually, but in the interests of keeping this heart valve from having to work too hard, I'd like to lose some more) but it was still startling to hear him so matter-of-fact about it. My primary care doctor is very much of the "if you're happy with your weight I have no problems with it" school of thought.
The big news, though, is that we have a date for my return to work. February 27th! Which is shockingly soon! I've started making a list of everything I need to get lined up before I go back. (Get a goddamn haircut finally, stock up on a few more crew-neck shirts and sweaters, find my day planner, actually finish this quilt project, etc.)
I haven't written much about how my recovery period is going, mostly because it's boring. Until very recently, I was frequently and unexpectedly tired, so I haven't been able to do anything really ambitious. (Write a novel! Read Mason & Dixon! In reality, my big accomplishment has been to get most of the way through Person of Interest and do a lot of jigsaw puzzles. Oh, I got my four-year-old hooked on Neko Atsume, that cat-collector smartphone game. So I guess it's been a productive couple of months.) But I'm getting closer and closer to normal, so it's time to pick back up a normal life.
Until next time--
--Susan