When you have been holding your breath for as long as we were, it is normal for breathing to feel strange and astonishing. The last time I felt anything akin to hope about our country’s future, it was in the fall of 2019, when Joe Biden defeated Donald Trump. Even then, I didn’t feel this kind of hope. Biden is a very sweet, very dedicated man, but I don’t think any of us expected him to perform miracles. We breathed but our breaths were shallow, guarded. We willed him to put a damper on any and all dangerous strategies and to live long enough to see his presidency through. And then came January 6, 2021.
As we sat in front of the television, transfixed, we drew in our collective breath again. Our eyes widened as we watched a gang of right-wing thugs march on Capitol Hill by the order of the loser, Trump, seemingly aiming to prevent the certification of the election by any means necessary. We gaped in horror as police officers were trampled and beaten, as windows were broken and as shots rang out. We watched the oozing sea of red hats moving across the most precious buildings in our democracy, hats bracketed by waving guns, batons, shovels, anything to use in an attack. Like guerillas, they scaled steps and walls, clambering over the railing on the balcony of the United States Capitol building, the home of Congress, striking anyone who tried to stop them. “Sore loser” doesn’t begin to describe the people who attacked the Capitol that day. I genuinely thought our nation was about to fall to a bunch of sycophants and cosplay QAnon-ers, doomsday preppers who had just been waiting for a chance to play at rebellion. It horrified me.
Prosecuting those people who killed, maimed, and literally shat on our Capitol, who sought to lynch Mike Pence for doing his job of certifying the election, who wanted to kill Nancy Pelosi, proved to be incredibly difficult. Trump promised, during his 2024 campaign, to pardon all of the people who were in jail because of their actions on January 6. Those who were released from jail at any point usually ended up back in jail on charges unrelated to January 6. These were genuinely bad people, emboldened by more bad people. And then came the Epstein Files.
I mean, we had no illusion of Trump being a good guy. So many moments told us otherwise. When he mocked the disabled man at a rally, when he told Billy Bush he could do anything he wanted to women (“grab them by the pussy“), when he went lower than anyone has ever gone in demeaning his rivals… but his association with Epstein and Maxwell, and Epstein’s mysterious, sudden death in prison while the cameras were off (“glitched”) – well, that was beyond the pale. We are still waiting for him to be prosecuted for his association with Epstein. We are still waiting for a lot of things.
Of course there were also fake assassination attempts staged so his followers would become even more radicalized – and they were! At his rallies after the first “attempt”, everyone was wearing a matching maxi pad to his on their right ears. (Do you feel stupid yet, dummies?) There is, of course, no evidence of any damage on his ear. And we haven’t heard must of anything about the “shooter”. What a tool he is, but his followers are even more so.
He and his family and cronies are essentially an organized crime “family” that have raped our country and its resources, allied themselves with actual Communists (Putin, Xiping, Un), made the Department of Defense the Department of War, stolen from veterans and retirees, made billionaire assholes like Musk and Bezos and their plastic Barbie brides even richer, and lied that AI is “super intelligence” so that they can use it to their advantage. They have used the Fox network to push their lies to the point at which even Fox is starting to pull back. It’s ruination everywhere you look. The beautiful rose garden at the White House was ripped out. The South Lawn became a stage for a UFC event. (One contender showed up to the weigh-in drunk and vomiting on himself. He now says he faked that, but don’t you believe it.) The East Wing was torn down. He had plans for an arch just outside Arlington Cemetery. All this money he has stolen from us (don’t trust me on it – go look it up) to build monuments to himself could have fed hungry people, could have built affordable housing, could have been used to fund more renewable energy projects such as solar farms.
I want to see those chickens come home to roost. I want subpoenas and firings and prison for those who did bad things to our country. But first, I want to see our newly elected officials start to heal the nation and solve some of the most pressing problems. I want there to still be a country left for my son when I’m long gone.
I never thought I would see Texas turn blue though! I grew up in Houston back when it was a Democratic state. Ann Richards was the first woman elected to a state office (Treasury) in fifty years and later became the governor in 1991. After George W. Bush beat her in 1994, it was the last time a Democrat held the governorship until now!
You don’t understand how long we have waited for things to get better. When Trump took office and immediately started carrying out Project 2025 (which we told you he would), signing 26 executive orders before midnight on the day of his inauguration, you might have gaped in disbelief, but if you are one of his supporters, maybe not. He denied knowing anything about Project 2025, yet he began to carry it out immediately.
Some people thought we were overreacting, that he’s just the president and doesn’t have enough power to do what he did. Two of those people are my brothers. They’re wrong. Hate to tell them. Actually, one of them doesn’t speak to me. I’m not his kind of people. And he, sadly, isn’t mine.
Clearly I’m still processing the outcome of Tuesday’s election results. I’m still trying to absorb the news that there is hope, that there is possibly a future for America. I’m trying really hard not to gloat, because I know how precarious this is, how easily it could all be taken away. We need for the people we elected to do something to stop the madness that has happened in front of our very eyes in the last decade. We need, in my son’s words, to finally “claw back some sanity” in our nation. We need to stop fighting with each other and fight for each other.
A woman who works at my chiropractor’s office was super friendly and attentive to me when I first started going there. She helped me a lot with the physical therapy I received after each treatment, and we had great conversations about our families. But one day we were talking about an upcoming trip she had planned to Pigeon Forge. I was asking if she had ever been to the Dixie Stampede, which is a place much like Medieval Times but with a country theme. It was one of Dolly’s properties there, and it was a lot of fun. Well, she got a sour puss on her and said, “No, it’s not called that now. All these ‘woke’ people made them change it.” She carried on like that for a few more sentences until I said, “Hey now…” She put her hands on her hips and said, “Oh, are you one of those? Are you one of them?” I mumbled something about wanting everyone to be comfortable and welcome.
She has never said one word to me since them. If she sees me, she hands me off to someone else or looks the other way. Well, I saw her the day after the election, because I was in there for an adjustment of my lower back. She couldn’t avoid me.
I smiled and said, “Hello!”
I held her eyes, my face was open, waiting to see if she would finally speak to me. She looked at me, stone-faced, and did some sort of click-click noise with her mouth before she walked out of the room. I guess that was supposed to be some sort of acknowledgement? That’s the kind of thing that divides us. Nothing I said should have divided us. She was the one who called me “one of them“. But I’ll continue to say hello to her when I see her. I’ll keep being me. I have never let my doctor know she makes me uncomfortable. This is all on her.
I invite you now, as I will try to do myself, to keep an open mind and try to heal some rifts. When I think it’s safe, I might reach out to my brother. Maybe I’ll send a Christmas card this year. It’s really risky for me, because he hates everything I am, and I won’t change who I am.
I invite you also to bask, rather than gloat, in the moment. The moment matters, and it might be all we get. Go grab it!
And because I have a sense of humor, here’s a little music for you!
Namaste,
Jude
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