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The day after the election, my son and I texted, commiserating, musing about where he might move. “Yearning for Copenhagen,” he wrote but without the caps. He crossed off England (nativism) and Italy (homophobia). Canada maybe? “toronto supposed to be nice.”
The thing about being a parent is that you have your own emotions to sort through after a catastrophe, but you have your children’s emotions, too. Even parents of young adults — even parents of adult adults. I’m 54; my parents worry about me.
And yet, as I reached out to comfort my son, I knew how lucky I was that this catastrophe was electoral. It felt tectonic, it felt like an attack, but in reality it was neither. My children weren’t in physical danger. Even with a total Trumpist takeover, neither they nor I would need to flee.
Not because we live in the United States, though. Because we live in New York. That’s what I told my son. You are in a good country. You live in New York state.
I look ahead, and I see a future in which the federal government slashes protections for health, the environment and civil rights. But those of us who live in blue states will still have people running the government who believe in government. We’ll still have a department of education, a climate action plan, a constitutional right to clean air and water.
New York has a population of 20 million — three times the size of Denmark. It’s like a small country. And if a country should be a haven for its citizens, New York is my country now.
The newly elected government of the United States of America threatens to take away the rights of my gay son and my teenage daughter, but New York has just passed a constitutional amendment to protect them. The newly elected government of the United States of America threatens to dismantle the health insurance law my husband and I rely on, but New York didn’t let insurers run amok before the Affordable Care Act and it wouldn’t after.
New York will protect me — but also, I still have a chance of protecting it. I need that, too. At the national level, this election made me feel bewildered, angry and, especially, helpless. Helpless writing letters to Arizonans begging them to vote with me and my vulnerable kids and my climate-ravaged farm in mind. Helpless watching a false but powerful story — heroic man returns to vanquish America’s enemies — prevail over a true but boring one — competent woman keeps everything working.
A lot of New Yorkers fell for that, too. But at least the New York political tradition — though scruffy with corruption and bent by party machinery — accords with my understanding of government as the way we pool our resources to help one another. Here at least, when faced with a ho-hum female candidate for governor, New Yorkers, realizing that electing Kathy Hochul’s (male) opponent risked our civil rights and social services, resisted the misogyny that plagues America.
Now, my job as a New Yorker — my job as a citizen — is to shore up the protections that my blue state offers, fix the holes and uncover the hypocrisies. The fealty to religion that undermines our reproductive health and our education laws, the shortsightedness that derailed New York City’s congestion pricing plan. We need affordable housing and a living wage, not just a minimum wage.
We also need to prepare to defend New York residents from the threats of the country that surrounds us: refuse to use our resources to support federal immigration enforcement, make sure immigrants have legal representation, protect our health-care providers and health data, and increase abortion access, not just abortion rights.
I’m not giving up on the rest of America. I can find hope. The map that looks like a sea of red — it’s worth noting — includes 18 states that allow citizen-led ballot initiatives. Direct democracy is how Arizona just passed a constitutional amendment guaranteeing abortion until viability, loosening its 15-week restriction, and how Missouri’s citizens won the right to overturn a total abortion ban. It’s how Alaska increased its minimum wage and mandated paid sick leave and how Kentucky soundly rejected a constitutional amendment to allow public funds to pay for private school.
Even as I cheer on red-state progressives, though, I’ve learned my reach is limited. Republican control of statehouses, and the national electoral advantage that has conferred, emerged from decades of concerted effort at the state and local levels. From my farm in Albany, I can send money to abortion funds. I can make a little noise when this or that state thumbs its nose at the U.S. Constitution. But mostly I can recognize and defend on my own political turf the blue-state protections that shield my family — protections everyone in America deserves.
And if anyone out there decides to move to a safer country, I will be happy to welcome you to New York.
The day after the election, my son and I texted, commiserating, musing about where he might move. “Yearning for Copenhagen,” he wrote but without the caps. He crossed off England (nativism) and Italy (homophobia). Canada maybe? “toronto supposed to be nice.”
The thing about being a parent is that you have your own emotions to sort through after a catastrophe, but you have your children’s emotions, too. Even parents of young adults — even parents of adult adults. I’m 54; my parents worry about me.
And yet, as I reached out to comfort my son, I knew how lucky I was that this catastrophe was electoral. It felt tectonic, it felt like an attack, but in reality it was neither. My children weren’t in physical danger. Even with a total Trumpist takeover, neither they nor I would need to flee.
Not because we live in the United States, though. Because we live in New York. That’s what I told my son. You are in a good country. You live in New York state.
I look ahead, and I see a future in which the federal government slashes protections for health, the environment and civil rights. But those of us who live in blue states will still have people running the government who believe in government. We’ll still have a department of education, a climate action plan, a constitutional right to clean air and water.
New York has a population of 20 million — three times the size of Denmark. It’s like a small country. And if a country should be a haven for its citizens, New York is my country now.
The newly elected government of the United States of America threatens to take away the rights of my gay son and my teenage daughter, but New York has just passed a constitutional amendment to protect them. The newly elected government of the United States of America threatens to dismantle the health insurance law my husband and I rely on, but New York didn’t let insurers run amok before the Affordable Care Act and it wouldn’t after.
New York will protect me — but also, I still have a chance of protecting it. I need that, too. At the national level, this election made me feel bewildered, angry and, especially, helpless. Helpless writing letters to Arizonans begging them to vote with me and my vulnerable kids and my climate-ravaged farm in mind. Helpless watching a false but powerful story — heroic man returns to vanquish America’s enemies — prevail over a true but boring one — competent woman keeps everything working.
A lot of New Yorkers fell for that, too. But at least the New York political tradition — though scruffy with corruption and bent by party machinery — accords with my understanding of government as the way we pool our resources to help one another. Here at least, when faced with a ho-hum female candidate for governor, New Yorkers, realizing that electing Kathy Hochul’s (male) opponent risked our civil rights and social services, resisted the misogyny that plagues America.
Now, my job as a New Yorker — my job as a citizen — is to shore up the protections that my blue state offers, fix the holes and uncover the hypocrisies. The fealty to religion that undermines our reproductive health and our education laws, the shortsightedness that derailed New York City’s congestion pricing plan. We need affordable housing and a living wage, not just a minimum wage.
We also need to prepare to defend New York residents from the threats of the country that surrounds us: refuse to use our resources to support federal immigration enforcement, make sure immigrants have legal representation, protect our health-care providers and health data, and increase abortion access, not just abortion rights.
I’m not giving up on the rest of America. I can find hope. The map that looks like a sea of red — it’s worth noting — includes 18 states that allow citizen-led ballot initiatives. Direct democracy is how Arizona just passed a constitutional amendment guaranteeing abortion until viability, loosening its 15-week restriction, and how Missouri’s citizens won the right to overturn a total abortion ban. It’s how Alaska increased its minimum wage and mandated paid sick leave and how Kentucky soundly rejected a constitutional amendment to allow public funds to pay for private school.
Even as I cheer on red-state progressives, though, I’ve learned my reach is limited. Republican control of statehouses, and the national electoral advantage that has conferred, emerged from decades of concerted effort at the state and local levels. From my farm in Albany, I can send money to abortion funds. I can make a little noise when this or that state thumbs its nose at the U.S. Constitution. But mostly I can recognize and defend on my own political turf the blue-state protections that shield my family — protections everyone in America deserves.
And if anyone out there decides to move to a safer country, I will be happy to welcome you to New York.
