Here’s the question that’s on my mind – and so many other people’s minds – lately: What do we do now?
Yes, the Women’s March was incredible; yes, more people showed up than anyone could have imagined; yes, it’s clear that millions of people are ready and willing to fight back…but still, the question remains: How do we keep going? Especially in the face of the tidal waves of news stories that wash over us every morning, alerting us to the fact that yes, once again THE ABSOLUTE WORST THING A PERSON CAN DO HAS BEEN DONE? (I’ve actually started trying to internally narrate my morning news consumption using John Oliver’s voice, because every single day opens with “Here is a decision that must be made, and the options are a) Goodness and Light, and b) Death and Hellfire,” and virtually every time the answer is “Well, B, OBVIOUSLY. Why? Because…hey, look over there! Is that Ivanka in a cute dress?! THE BABY IS CRAWLING!”
The question “what’s next?” is crucial. It’s a question that needs to be answered, both because people want to help and don’t know what to do, and because all that helplessness and not-knowing is unsustainable. I don’t know about you, but I have no idea how to keep feeling this way – useless, furious, swimming in links and Tweets and clips from nightly talk shows – every single day, and not burn out.
Personally? I’m obsessed. I find it hard to talk about anything but Trumpity Trump Trump Trump – what else is there to talk about, really? – but I’m trying not to completely alienate every friend I have, so I’m more or less confining my rants to the people around whom I can’t help myself (…and apparently that includes every single RG reader. I’m sorry; I can’t help it). That said, I’m not sure all this obsessing is particularly healthy. Or helpful.
I’m exhausted from waking up at 3 o’clock every morning and eating crackers in bed while scrolling through my news feed to make sure nothing cataclysmic happened because I clocked out for a couple of hours. The need to monitor – to know what’s going on at every single moment – pulls my eyes and words and mind away from my children, who just want me to color with them and are really, really sick of listening to me trying to explain racism via a Star Wars analogy.
When I picture Mike Pence, my brain hurts. I fantasize about stealing Melania and hiding her in my guest bedroom so we can eat chocolate mochi and watch Footloose together.
I cannot keep this level of hysteria up – I know this – but to pull back on any front feels both irresponsible and impossible. So what to do now? Well, first thing’s first: Go read this Medium post on how to stay outraged while still staying sane. Read all of it.
One step at a time.
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