Yesterday, I Wept

Yesterday, I wept.

Alone in my office — with my back to the door.

Quickly. Quietly. Sadly.

It was almost 4:30pm PDT when the news alerts illuminated my phone’s lockscreen:

The Los Angeles Times:

After a bitter confirmation battle, the Senate today confirmed Jeff Sessions as the nation’s 84th attorney general.

The New York Times:

Jeff Sessions has been confirmed as attorney general, a day after a Senate flare up over Elizabeth Warren’s criticism of his record.

The Washington Post:

Jeff Sessions, who has helped shape many of Trump’s early policies, is confirmed as attorney general after a bitter Senate debate.

It was inevitable, I suppose. Even amidst the rancor and dissent, I realized on a gut-level that Senate Republicans would carry out the bidding of the president. And yet somehow, I wasn’t fully prepared for how helpless, afraid, angry and hurt I would feel when the Alabama legislator with a deeply flawed record was confirmed to lead the Department of Justice. The Department of Justice…It hit me like a freight train. At the time, I wrote a simple Facebook post stating that I couldn’t adequately express my grief and disappointment at seeing the Senate confirm Jeff Sessions for Attorney General of the United States.

Well, today I can.

I wept — not because I am weak. I’m five feet and four inches (okay, three and three quarter inches) of steel, heart, and chutzpah. I’m not a snowflake. I’m not hysterical. I’m not irrational.

I wept because in one callous vote, 52 legislators effectively conveyed their contempt for my human and civil rights and it felt like there was nothing I could say or do about it.

I wept because I understand that I (and the majority of those I hold dear) am one bad day or series-of-unfortunate-events away from becoming a hashtag and this country seems unwilling to acknowledge or address it.

I wept because I suspect — with good reason — that the White House and Attorney General will collude to chip away at the civil rights gains of the past 60 years in the name of making it “great again”.

I wept because I have three nephews, two of whom will come of age in the next few years. I hate that their rights and essentially their well-being are in jeopardy.

I wept because I know what this means for minority voting rights. I know what this means for free and fair elections. I know full well the likelihood that barriers to the franchise will increase and impede justice. Impede democracy.

I wept because after barely three weeks of this administration, I am already tired. Exhausted, really.

I wept because as a nation, we are perilously close to descending into an abyss the likes of which we’ve seen before. It wasn’t pretty then. It will be even worse if we allow history to repeat itself.

I do not want that burden. And for a brief, suspended moment all I could do was cry.

Because sometimes that’s what you do when you love something and it doesn’t love you back.

Yesterday, I wept.

Today, I took a deep breath.

Tomorrow — nevertheless, I will persist.

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