I DON’T WANT TO WRITE THIS COLUMN
When I was growing up in the 1970s, my very conservative, very fundamentalist Christian parents were preparing for civil unrest and the end of the society as we knew it. I was a teenager far more interested in the cute guy in the church choir than I was in potential political or economic turmoil. Layered on this were the patriarchal structures of my father and the church, against which I began to rebel. My father’s deep concern as he was dying was that I wasn’t going to church, that I might not believe in his God, and thus wouldn’t make it to heaven.
Over the years, my parents and I have had some arguments. Our relationship became particularly challenging during Trump’s first term when my father, in a rage, claimed God could work through Trump, and I suggested maybe someone kinder and more thoughtful to begin with might be a better Christian choice. I suppose there was healing before he died, but I could never be the daughter they wanted.
All this is to say that I spent my formative years around people preparing for the end of the world: guns to protect ourselves; alcohol and cigarettes to give to those who would come to take what was ours; a survivalists’ store of dried food and a vegetable garden; a woodstove to make us self-sufficient. Up until my father died, my parents were encouraging me to buy clothes and food for storage—just in case. For when things got bad.
Many of these beliefs gave me skills. I don’t have guns or cigarettes, but my freezer is stocked with my homegrown veggies. I can make a good fire. I am aware of my surroundings and of threats. What it didn’t do was make me feel secure—or that I was living with mentally balanced humans. I’m not sure how a 17-year-old is supposed to manage all that. Either they were crazy or I was; the way to survive was to assign the crazy to them.
And now: a crazy man has been elected to the White House. He controls all three branches of government. He doesn’t respect the processes of law or our Constitution. He is profoundly unstable and surrounded by those who have much darker plans for our republic that involve the consolidation of power and wealth among a select few white men and the revocation of rights for women, people of color, and LGBTQ people. People across my various social media feeds are moving to Iceland, Canada, Portugal.
And the part of me made primally afraid by my parents is awake. Run, it says. Hide. But where is safe? And that’s crazy. Right?
Thanks for reading.
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Upcoming Events:
Hubby and I will be at the Westbrook Mall on December 21 for an all-day author event. There will be a wrapping area, giveaways, and other holiday celebrations. Come for some last minute shopping and grab a few stocking stuffers from local authors. Hope to see you there. If you prefer to buy online, you can find me on Instagram and Facebook, and at my website. Have a safe and joyful holiday season!