I feel hopeful. I have to feel hope and I have to believe in our ability to continue to do important work. Because the first feeling I had last night was fear. And fear is what brought us here in the first place.
My younger sister goes to school in a swing state, one of the few I stayed up to watch. She told me about how the dorms are being vandalized, how she saw someone in the town wear a white hood, and how her campus is divided.
She has a reason to fear. But she doesn’t. When I called her as the map went red, she said “This is the wake-up call.”
My parents have a reason to fear. They came here to build a better life, and so here we are. But they don’t fear either. My mom said “Que mas se puede hacer? Para adelante.” (What else can we do? Move forward.)
Their outlook, despite the stakes and their sacrifice, gives me a reason to continue. To remember the consequences of fear, but to never forget hope.
