Fired Up and Ready to Go

The last 24 hours have been a roller coaster of emotions. Not the good kind where you're waving your hands in the air next to your best bud and your tears and screams are those of joy, but the kind where you're turned upside down and you almost scrape the ground sideways and returning your lunch is imminent.

As I sat down to watch the election results with my father, a Muslim immigrant and ardent feminist, I truly believed, with all my heart, that humanity, justice and progress would prevail. I truly did. And he did, too. We kept our Hillary logo shot glasses, with the words "Made from 100% shattered glass ceiling" nearby and planned to take a drink of wine every time CNN declared a state blue. 

As the numbers for Florida came in (rather early in the evening, mind you), my heart started to sink. My stomach started to knot. My smile started to fade. I had a bad feeling. I looked at my father and said, "I'm scared."

And then Ohio ... and then North Carolina ... and then ... and then ...

By 1:30 a.m., my hope was all but lost. I couldn't believe what I was watching. The group texts among family and close friends were grim. There was no more to say, no more to do. I went to sleep, crying into my pillow, with Jasmine by my side (because dogs, along with laughter, which I had none of, are the best medicine).

This morning I sat in silence for my entire commute. Upon arriving at work, I was greeted with hugs and understanding and camaraderie. We all felt the weight of what had just happened. We all felt the uncertainty of the future of our great nation, and particularly of the women and children we serve - the immigrants and refugees escaping violence who turn to the U.S. for safety and solace. We came together for lunch, 30 of us, to reflect and pray and lock arms in unity.

So yeah, it was a crappy day. And there will be more crappy days to come. But you know what - there will be great days, too. Because, as our dear Hillary says, "If we stand together and work together with respect for our differences, strength in our convictions and love for this nation, our best days are still ahead of us ... let us have faith in each other, let us not grow weary, let us not lose heart, for there are more seasons to come and there is more work to do."

Damn right. I've been grieving all day. But you know what else I've been doing? Getting FIRED UP. Getting READY for the next step. You thought I was an outspoken activist before? You ain't seen NOTHIN' yet. I am ready to fight, every single day, for what I believe in. Because "fighting for what's right is worth it." Thanks, Hill. Thanks for showing women like me that we are "valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world." I know I'm not alone. I know there are women and men who feel just as passionately about the issues, just as fiercely about progress and just as confidently about our bright future. That, in and of itself, gets me FIRED UP and READY TO GO.

One of the Lucky Ones

The truth is, I am one of the lucky ones. Tomorrow's election results will not have a huge impact on how I live my day-to-day life, nor am I in any real danger of having pieces of my life stripped away.

I use my voice - and my vote - for our children who deserve a world still in bloom and world leaders who believe in the reality and urgency of climate change.

I use my voice - and my vote - for women seeking reproductive health care, women recovering from sexual assault, women fighting for equal pay.

I use my voice - and my vote - for families fleeing violence in war-torn countries who are seeking a life of safety and dignity, with the opportunity to reach their full potential as citizens of this planet.

I use my voice - and my vote - for the 50 million people who, for one reason or another, in their greatest time of need, benefit from government assistance and social programs.

I am one of the lucky ones. I have the privilege of using my voice - and my vote - for others who have lost their own. Or who never had theirs to begin with. Or who simply can't find the right words.

Before you go vote tomorrow, I hope you take a moment to think about who you are voting for ... what you are voting for ... and why it matters.

Proud to Be a Woman

Look what came in the mail - our official WOMAN CARDS!

Now before you get all "ugh, those are from Hillary's campaign" (heck yes they are), let me explain why I am so bothered by Trump's derisive use of this phrase ...

My woman card doesn't mean being a woman is my only defining characteristic. It doesn't mean I vote with, agree with or understand all other women. And it most certainly doesn't mean I'm against men. (That last notion irks me to no end.)

I'll tell you what it does mean. It means I am an intelligent, compassionate, strong, capable human being who deserves the same respect, liberties and opportunities as any other person. It means I dream and I achieve. It means I aspire to inspire. It means I believe in the power of women to create change and build a beautiful future for our world. It means I stand with other women. And, it means I stand with men who stand with women.

I am damn proud to be a WOMAN.

‪#‎IAmWoman‬ ‪#‎HearMeRoar‬ ‪#‎WCW‬ ‪#‎LeanIn‬ ‪#‎NoCeilings‬ ‪#‎Mamadukes‬

If you have the privilege to speak up, do it.

I turn on the news. Another episode of brutality. Another mass shooting. More lives taken too soon.

My heart weeps. But I'm not surprised. My blood boils. But this is our new normal.

Why do we keep doing this? Why do we keep letting this happen? And by "we," I mean the human race. Screw the white vs. black vs. cop vs. politician vs. Christian vs. Muslim. WE are doing this to each other, WE are letting this happen to us. WE are ALL responsible. WE are ALL affected. When one single person is brought down by hatred or injustice, WE are ALL brought down. When one single life is taken, WE ALL lose a piece of our lives. A piece of our freedom. A piece of our future. A piece of our hope.

I feel so disappointed ... so frustrated ... so helpless.

Before now I didn't know the name Philando Castile. I didn't know the name Alton Sterling. I still don't know the names of the nearly 300 victims in the recent Baghdad bombing. Or the names of the 49 shot and killed in Orlando. Or the 11 police officers shot by sniper in Dallas.

But I have long known the name Elie Wiesel. A Nobel laureate, author and Holocaust survivor, who also passed away this week. He lived through the worst atrocities this world has ever seen and instead of letting that history eat away at him, he used his voice, which he was LUCKY to still have, to spawn global awareness and have real conversations about racial hatred and inequality.

I don't have any words of wisdom to contribute at this time. I feel too broken. But if I may quote him: "Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe."

If you have the power to stand up, DO IT. If you have the privilege to speak up, DO IT. “Thou shalt not be a victim, thou shalt not be a perpetrator, but, above all, thou shalt not be a bystander.”