What I Thought Was Guaranteed

Until forty-seven became president, I believed that no matter who won the presidency, we would get through it and be fine. Republican or Democrat felt less important than the simple fact that we lived in a democracy where we had the right to vote. I trusted that whoever was elected would follow the law and at least try to make Americans’ lives better.

That no longer feels true. The only people forty-seven appears interested in helping are predominantly white, male, and wealthy. His cabinet is filled with like-minded people who seem far more focused on what benefits them personally than on serving the country as a whole.

Before forty-seven, my political anxiety faded quickly. I could watch the news for thirty minutes or an hour each day and feel reasonably informed. Now, there are not enough hours in the day, and even then it feels like I have barely scratched the surface. I struggle with the idea of tuning it all out because staying informed feels like a responsibility. If I know what is happening, I can respond. That might mean donating to causes that support democracy, writing about it here, or talking with people who are regretting their vote for forty-seven.

Any response feels better than silence. At the same time, as important as it is for me to stay informed and engaged, I also want my life back. I want to return to the days when I trusted that safeguards were in place and that everyday Americans were protected.

I want to know my grandchildren have a future in tomorrow’s America. I want to believe there will be jobs that allow them to support their own families. I want them to have affordable health care. I want my granddaughter to have the same rights as her brothers. I do not want them growing up in a country where people are forced into poverty to protect the wealth of an oligarch.

I have few regrets in life, but I do regret taking the America I grew up in for granted. I assumed it would always be there, steady and imperfect but moving forward. Now I understand that democracy requires more than belief. It requires attention, participation, and sometimes grief for what we thought was guaranteed.