![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
No words that haven't already been said
I haven't posted anything about politics for awhile, have I? At least not here -- if you follow me on Twitter, you've likely seen that it's almost all politics, all the time, with occasional forays into fandom and cute stuff, because if I can't lighten the load with fandom and cute stuff then I can't do anything.
But I find that I can't leave today's disaster unmarked, even though I don't have anything to say that hasn't been said already. It's frustrating and enraging and terrible, and I can't even begin to think about the long term ramifications about having such a man as one of the nine people making the most important decisions about our country, and yet it's hard to feel any kind of hopeful feelings about the Supreme Court anymore. Not after the slow chipping away at Roe v. Wade, and the gutting of the Voting Rights Act, and their choice to reverse almost every lower court decision in order to uphold the immigration ban. And especially not after the travesty of the Merrick Garland situation, when the GOP made it plain that they were going to take over the court no matter what it took. The Supreme Court was never going to save us; now they are especially not going to save us. Even if Democrats win back both houses of Congress, and hold them long enough to get a Democratic president elected in 2020, we can never count on the Court to be the last line of defense, ever again.
It's awful and it's terrible and I especially feel for everyone who has experienced sexual assault, for the old wounds that this battle must have opened, and I'm so sorry. I hear you and I see you and whatever you need, I'm here.
Still, I'm glad we fought. And that we'll keep fighting. And that I already see us taking the energy from our righteous anger and carrying it forward to Election Day next month, and beyond to whatever work needs to come next. Although I don't blame anyone for despairing right now, I always prefer action, and to that end I've given money to a number of Democrats running for Senate and signed up for Postcards to Voters. I'm sorry I didn't start with action earlier, rather than just sharing information, but I'm determined to do what I can from here on in.
One of my favorite metaphors for activism right now is staggered breathing. It's a concept from choral singing -- when you need to sing a long note, or sing through a long passage with no rests or breaths, everyone takes their breath at a different times. The sound will continue unbroken, and no one ever runs out of air. It can work the same way with activism. If you need to take a break, to just breathe, do it. I promise, the rest of us will keep singing until you can come back in.
But I find that I can't leave today's disaster unmarked, even though I don't have anything to say that hasn't been said already. It's frustrating and enraging and terrible, and I can't even begin to think about the long term ramifications about having such a man as one of the nine people making the most important decisions about our country, and yet it's hard to feel any kind of hopeful feelings about the Supreme Court anymore. Not after the slow chipping away at Roe v. Wade, and the gutting of the Voting Rights Act, and their choice to reverse almost every lower court decision in order to uphold the immigration ban. And especially not after the travesty of the Merrick Garland situation, when the GOP made it plain that they were going to take over the court no matter what it took. The Supreme Court was never going to save us; now they are especially not going to save us. Even if Democrats win back both houses of Congress, and hold them long enough to get a Democratic president elected in 2020, we can never count on the Court to be the last line of defense, ever again.
It's awful and it's terrible and I especially feel for everyone who has experienced sexual assault, for the old wounds that this battle must have opened, and I'm so sorry. I hear you and I see you and whatever you need, I'm here.
Still, I'm glad we fought. And that we'll keep fighting. And that I already see us taking the energy from our righteous anger and carrying it forward to Election Day next month, and beyond to whatever work needs to come next. Although I don't blame anyone for despairing right now, I always prefer action, and to that end I've given money to a number of Democrats running for Senate and signed up for Postcards to Voters. I'm sorry I didn't start with action earlier, rather than just sharing information, but I'm determined to do what I can from here on in.
One of my favorite metaphors for activism right now is staggered breathing. It's a concept from choral singing -- when you need to sing a long note, or sing through a long passage with no rests or breaths, everyone takes their breath at a different times. The sound will continue unbroken, and no one ever runs out of air. It can work the same way with activism. If you need to take a break, to just breathe, do it. I promise, the rest of us will keep singing until you can come back in.
no subject
no subject
no subject
-- Staggered breathing is a useful concept,
-- I did the Act I Must DO SOMETHING Act for the first six months and burned out (calls to senators who agree with you and reps who never will are only so useful), and since then have done monthly slacktivism donations to vote-flipping ActBlue plus ACLU and other important orgs as I can; Emily's List on Friday to fight back.
-- I had a brainfart and very briefly thought you were the friend I knew in charge of the social media part of Emily's List, but you're not. Her name is @AlyssaFranke on Twitter, or @WhovianFeminism on Twitter/Tumblr. I think you would like her, so I mention her in case you would find her Twitter something you'd like to follow.
no subject
>> takes their breath at a different times
This is beautiful. Thank you.
no subject
Also, as someone else I know pointed out recently: we will not get through this unscathed but we will make it through. That's something I'm hanging on to hard. That, and the fact that I can see the changes we've already made in society just in my lifetime, and we won't allow ourselves to be shoved back there. We won't.