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I started drafting this at noon on Election Day. Not knowing exactly how the country would vote as a collective, I was encouraged by what I witnessed and read about early voter turnout, numbers of newly registered voters, and the galvanization around keeping our democracy intact for four more years.
Whenever I zoomed in, though, it also felt like our democratic system was being held together with duct tape and bubblegum, loopholes tearing wider and increasing in number. Incarcerated persons are unable to vote while a convicted felon and twice-impeached politician was on the ballot. There was a possibility that one party could hold the majority in all three branches of government (i.e. the Constitution was supposed to ensure that no individual or group would have too much power). Not to mention the seismic influence of all media types, oppressive algorithms, corporations, the list goes on.
And yet the compassionate, lifelong student of Buddism in me wants to understand—not “how we got here” (because white supremacy) but how we make sense of it all for the purpose of rebuilding once it all crumbles to the ground. I think a lot about impermanence.
The Trauma of a Broken Society and System
It’s easy to see how flawed, corrupt, and otherwise broken our entire ecosystem has become. Our society has always been on this trajectory because it was designed from the onset to benefit the homogenous majority while intentionally creating barriers for those of us in the margins. Like a house built on a cracking foundation, each attempted repair only revealed deeper structural flaws.
As we underrepresented folks fight for the same rights as everyone else, there is a scarcity wound that we activate. This zero-sum thinking—the belief that extending rights to others somehow diminishes one's own—reveals itself as both the weapon and wound of white supremacy. They are also unknowingly grieving the power and privilege they perceive as loss after centuries uninterrupted.
Since we know that at least half of us desire an inclusive society, a system designed for exclusion can no longer function.
Holding Space for Our Shared Values
I think we have to start with our conflicting definitions of “freedom” and “protection.”
We all voted for freedom on November 5th. We all voted to protect women that day, too. The issue is that we applied different meanings to each of these. And this illustrates another fundamental flaw in the system—because if we all want the same things, then an intentional division must have been created to suggest that our freedoms are at odds with one another. And our versions of protecting women are odds with each other.
For me, freedom means the power of self-determination—to choose to live my life and express myself the way that I see fit. The same goes for our free press, freedom of speech, and freedom of assembly. For many (but not all) Trump supporters, it means to control the way in which people can live and express themselves—which includes LGBTQ+ people, the media, and peaceful protestors, among many others.
For me, protection meant a woman’s right to bodily autonomy, reproductive justice and access to affirming healthcare for all. For many (but not all) Trump supporters, it meant “keeping boys out of bathrooms and men out of women’s sports”—also known as misinformed and weaponized transphobia—and protecting life, no matter the extenuating circumstance, human cost, or choice of the woman.
If that wasn’t enough, there’s also the deep distrust in government that many of us shared leading up to this moment. The difference here, again, is that while I personally don’t trust our government, I believed in the promise of a democratic nation—or at least was invested in the experiment that is America. Some (but certainly not all) Trump supporters viewed him as an anti-government outsider—not a typical politician—who would buck the system on their behalf. That he would remove the government’s control on their lives and reinvigorate the strength of our economy.
So, can we ever move forward when we so staunchly oppose one another? I actually do think so, but not through a mechanism that many people will be able to digest.
An Unpopular Perspective
A new system must be rebuilt from scratch, and that requires the organism to die.
Supremacy—and all its related comorbidities: racism, misogyny, nationalism, homophobia, xenophobia, transphobia, etc.—has spread from its original location to all the other parts of the body. As a nation, we have been diagnosed with metastatic cancer. And like any terminal diagnosis, it forces us to confront both our mortality and our legacy.
The good news is that the quickest, most humane way to bring an organism to an end is to do so as swiftly as possible. It will be a painful four years, but any other outcome would have prolonged this.
My entire body is shaking as I type this.
Why is this necessary? Because the system worked as is currently intended. And if that democratic system could allow an unchecked imbalance of power under a fascist, authoritarian leader, then this system is irreparable. Unable to be modified to meet our modern day needs and desires.
Where Do We Go From Here?
I don’t know what you believe. But I am very clear that my soul signed up for this—to be here at this very tumultuous time to do the work that needs to be done.
“In love and for love, we walk together toward the best world we can build for and with each other.”
—Candis Fox
This is not just about the immanent dismantling of what hasn’t worked; it's about reimagining and creating what could be, doing that with much greater intentionality, and with the entire ecosystem in mind.
It starts by taking a deep look from the inside out.
It means listening to others who have perspectives and lived experiences different from your own.
It means birthing (breathing and pushing relentlessly) new ways of relating, working together, and tending the earth. Re-membering and elevating Indigenous wisdom seems to dovetail nicely with how we might rethink what we’ve been fed for so long.
And perhaps, most importantly, it means accepting that the pain of transformation is not separate from the process of healing—they are, in fact, one and the same.
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