"She get it from her mama" ____ Jane Van Cantfort
Letters from (a) Mom.
Every morning I wake up under a dark cloud. I reach for my phone on the nightstand, and see all the new bad things. Torture, Muslim registry, gutting Planned Parenthood, alternative truth, restricting the press, building a wall, taking Iraq’s oil; that is the first week under the occupying party. I can’t tell myself this time that it won’t make much difference in my life, that things will go on as before. Instead, I feel like we are on the edge of a chasm, powerless and hopeless. Will our marches help? Can we do more than unfurl a banner of resistance? Can we prevail?
I alternate between fear and rage. I feel rage, that the democratic ideals of my country are being trod underfoot by an incurious bully. I owe it to my parents to fight back and resist these machinations; my teenage father went to war so that we could live free. I owe it to my immigrant great grandparents to live up to their bravery in leaving their homeland to forge a better life across the ocean. I owe it to my children and grandchildren to leave them with a country I can be proud of, a country that reflects its people, people who embrace diversity and freedom.
I feel fear that the ideals I hold dear, like freedom of the press, freedom of religion, due process, a moral imperative in foreign policy, compassion for those less fortunate, respect for basic human rights. I will march, I will call, and I will argue with the Trump supporters I work with, I will vote. Here is my oath for my country: I will channel my fear and my rage into action, I will not stand by idly, I won’t let my flawed but beautiful country be muddied this way.
-Jane van cantfort. mother, writer, power house and original badass.