To the Editor:
I am a 58-year-old, educated, gay, tax-paying woman with a gigantic funny bone, a registered Independent, a creative thinker, an artistic type. Originally from New York but most of my life a New Englander. If that description labels me as a left-leaner, then some of you think I live in a tilted world. I actually live a very balanced and open-minded life…considering myself more ambidexterous and inclusive.
As an elementary school student I learned to read phonetically by sounding words out. My Social Studies and History teachers taught me about The Melting Pot and my music teacher Mrs. Rosen, like it or not made, us sing “It’s a Small World after All” and “This Land is My Land” every week. It is also where I read the story, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” by Hans Christian Andersen.
Yesterday (the day after the election) these memories bubbled up, serving as powerful metaphors. They clearly shaped my vision of the world and my place in it. But on this particular day I found myself twisting my head the way my dog did whenever I asked her a question.
What happened to us? Yes “u” and “s,” the U.S. How did our need for change get twisted and land on a platform of hate, xenophobia, and ignorance? While not a religious person, I do try to do and be good. I do not understand how someone who lives a Christian life can get behind a person who reeks of dishonesty, bigotry and self-importance.
I am trying to land in a place of acceptance and balance, to hold on to what I know to be the goodness and essence of our country, but I am traumatized. The “I remember where I was when” roster of my generation includes the assasination of JFK, RFK, MLK and 911. This election has joined that list. I am angry and afraid, more fearful than George W. tried to make me.
In trying times I make my world smaller; being thoughtful about taking good care of myself and the people, places and things I hold dear. I am thankful that I live in New England, abundant in beauty, history, art and smarts. If our president-elect ever comes here, I will likely miss him because we will be leaning away from each other.
Dawn Lane
Stockbridge, Mass.
