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Writer's pictureTanio McCallum

post-Election Blues

Photo ©Tanio McCallum, 2024


Last night I went on Facebook and within a few moments of reading a friend’s short yet powerful post about how she is handling the results of the election, I felt uplifted. Until I read the comments, which quickly devolved into what I am sure you can imagine was not so very uplifting. I slammed my laptop shut and went to bed.


But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Yes, I am devasted, abhorred, in shock and disbelief, terrified and angry. True, raw emotions that I have to live with – to process and find a way through. But this isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this. And I don’t mean in 2016 (well, yes, then too).


But I mean in my own life. I have been wrecked and gutted more than once by events and people in my life. And I have found a way out and back to the path of my truest self and my own intrinsic light. Over and over again. I believe we as a country can do this too.


I have been split down the center. Divided. I have gone deep into the crevices of that dark space between sides until I became lost. There are moments I thought I would never return, but I did. Here I am. Here we are.


The morning after the election, my friend, who voted for Trump, texted me.

Just checking in to see how you are…thinking of you all and hoping you’re not too scared or nervous, she wrote. Grateful for your friendship, despite our difference of opinion.


A week before the election, she’d shared how afraid she was to tell her friends who she was voting for, as we live in an area of mostly Harris supporters.


The next day, I was in desperate need of some self-care, so I called a masseuse I’ve known for years to make an appointment. When I asked how she was, she answered: “Great, now that Trump’s been elected.”


I paused, and my actual jaw dropped as I scrambled past my default politeness to the truth of me.


“I feel the exact opposite,” I said.


“I just want America to get back on track,” she responded.


“Me too,” I answered.


There was moment when I felt sick to my stomach and wasn’t sure I wanted to schedule the massage after all, but I pushed past it. That is not who I am or want to be. As a Professor, I teach my students to respect each other’s beliefs and opinions and to, no matter what, respond respectfully and honestly when their opinions differ. I encourage them to find their curiosity and ask questions of the other person to better understand them and where they are coming from.


My son’s father and I aren’t together. We have very different beliefs about many things and our son sees it all. Like the morning after the election, I crawled into my son’s bed to snuggle and told him that Trump won. I had tears in my eyes and we had an open conversation about why I’d wanted Harris to win, and not Trump. Later that day I dropped him off at his papa’s house and as I pulled in, noticed that they were putting up the American flag and seemed celebratory.


I encouraged my son to ask his papa why he voted for Trump, so he could understand that, too and make his own decisions as he grows towards adulthood. I don’t want him to be split in two.


Why am I writing and sharing all this? Because that’s what I do. I process things through writing. I connect with others through sharing my writing.


Is it scary? Yes. It’s scary and thrilling. It makes me want to shine and hide.


I was taught young not to make trouble. There was enough of it going around and I didn’t want to make things worse by speaking up or being rebellious, even though that was and is my true nature. I held things in and often felt I might combust. I never did – I imploded instead. Not to cause anyone else damage. I sacrificed myself, like I’d been taught to by my own mother, and she’d been taught by hers.


Imagine the force of that power when it’s not held in. When it’s collectively gathered and released.


The earth needs all of us. Every single one. We cannot stand divided. The cost is too great.

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