I am sitting in Terminal E at Logan Airport waiting for my flight to Toronto, trying to think about how to explain or describe or understand.
The election has knocked me down and broken my heart.
I will survive this. America will survive and someday, make amends. I know this is a historic swing. Nativism to progressivism and back again.
Eight years of Obama in the White House was the far edge of progressive politics for the moment.
I lived through Reagan’s election (twice) and was consumed by disbelief and dread. I’m older now. I’ve watched the cycle.
It does feel worse this time and it is worse. The hatred is naked. The boundaries of civility have been breached. The world is more fragile and evil happens on a hair-trigger.
I don’t know how we move forward from this dark place, but I know we will. Eventually.
The arc of history…. sometimes looks like a corkscrew.
There are so many people of good will. The bruises will heal. Lessons will be learned. Other elections will be won.
If you think it sounds like I’m trying to talk myself into this, you would be correct.
I’m going to Canada to talk to the lovely people at Holy Blossom Temple about books I’ve written. I’ll spend much of my allotted time talking about The Boston Girl, which is the story of Addie Baum, American-born daughter of immigrant parents. Although my story is very different, that description fits me, too: American-born daughter of immigrant parents.
Obama’s election felt like a personal triumph. This election feels like a personal defeat.
I know my Canadian hosts won’t expect me to explain. I’ve already received words of comfort from one of them. And yet, I want to say something helpful or wise or consoling. Maybe next week.
Today, I’m simply in shock. Sitting in the airport. My flight delayed.