Letter from a friend

Today a dear friend, who is extremely politically active in her community on the Left Coast, wrote the following message to all of her friends:

This is a devastating day on the national and international scene. I
don't know that I have much inspiring to say on that count. What I do
know, though, is that I'm feeling the ties to the people I care about
that much more strongly today.

And I am pissed off on your behalf.

I am feeling the anger of a mama tiger ready to defend her cubs against
anyone who would dare attack. I'm burning brightly with the fierceness
needed to protect my circle of amazing, kind, funny, decent friends
from the evil afoot. I am formidable, I am powerful, and I will not be
moved away.

Ironically, this election has given me a new sense that this nation is
mine, too, goddammit. Why should I feel like I have to hide in the
corner and make sardonic comments? No matter what ballot measures
fearful people pass, I am *not* a second-class citizen. (Hell, given
how much I get involved with civic life, my credentials are especially
shiny.) They don't like that I'm here, with my progressive views and
bold words and beloved wife? Let THEM leave this time.

And so, my brilliant circle of friends, I accept that this
administration is what we have to contend with for the next few years.
But I won't accept the fear and paralysis and demoralization that are
anathema to claiming my place in the world.

I've got your backs. And as we stand in this circle, I know you've got
mine.

I pass it on to all of you, hoping that they will help to rekindle your flame.

Letter from a friend

Today a dear friend, who is extremely politically active in her community on the Left Coast, wrote the following message to all of her friends:

This is a devastating day on the national and international scene. I
don't know that I have much inspiring to say on that count. What I do
know, though, is that I'm feeling the ties to the people I care about
that much more strongly today.

And I am pissed off on your behalf.

I am feeling the anger of a mama tiger ready to defend her cubs against
anyone who would dare attack. I'm burning brightly with the fierceness
needed to protect my circle of amazing, kind, funny, decent friends
from the evil afoot. I am formidable, I am powerful, and I will not be
moved away.

Ironically, this election has given me a new sense that this nation is
mine, too, goddammit. Why should I feel like I have to hide in the
corner and make sardonic comments? No matter what ballot measures
fearful people pass, I am *not* a second-class citizen. (Hell, given
how much I get involved with civic life, my credentials are especially
shiny.) They don't like that I'm here, with my progressive views and
bold words and beloved wife? Let THEM leave this time.

And so, my brilliant circle of friends, I accept that this
administration is what we have to contend with for the next few years.
But I won't accept the fear and paralysis and demoralization that are
anathema to claiming my place in the world.

I've got your backs. And as we stand in this circle, I know you've got
mine.

I pass it on to all of you, hoping that they will help to rekindle your flame.