blasted hamilton’s “my shot” on the drive to the church we had been assigned to vote at, but it didn’t help. stood in line with my fellow kansas citians. tried like hell to feel something — anything — other than sick to my stomach, but all i could do was think of the terrible way this election could turn out. all i could do was imagine what the future of the country, the country i am raising my child in, could look like should hate win. i wanted to be hopeful, but having lived (almost) my entire life in the midwest, surrounded by regressive thinkers and voters as far as the eye can see, i knew better than to be overly optimistic.
i stood at the polling station, glanced around the room at every life i didn’t know and considered how the results of this day might impact them and the people they loved in the coming months, cast my vote, and cried.
little joys 