2019: The year of courage.
I’m frustrated.
Not the kind that goes away after a large glass of red wine and a good book. Not the kind that goes away after a hard yoga class — when you forget why you were off kilter in the first place. And not the kind that a long conversation with a friend, or five, or ten, is going to magically smooth over.
I’ve tried all of those things. This feeling is not going away.
On November 6th at 9:02 PM CNN named Betsy Dirksen Londrigan the projected winner of the 13th Congressional District. Packed into a lively Springfield restaurant, the screams erupted around me as I remained glued to the TV in utter disbelief. For ten seconds, Cafe Moxo was a perfectly staged Aaron Sorkin scene. Thunderous applause filled the bar as strangers hugged one another in triumph. Frozen in shock, it truly didn’t seem real.
It wasn’t.
I rushed back to hug Lincoln for another moment of celebration, but a look of stricken panic had replaced the surreal jubilance from just seconds earlier. Oh god, I thought. No, no. no.
“They messed up. New York Times is projecting Rodney. He has 51% and Macon isn’t even in yet.”
That was it. We lost, and I knew it in that moment. The rest of night was a blurry haze of grief. I think denial is the first stage, and that’s sure what happened. While volunteers took to the streets in celebration, the campaign staff quietly found corners to deliberate and cling on to any semblance of a victory. What was CNN saying now? Was anyone saying anything different? Words grew too painful.
At some point, I found a quiet storefront awning to just be alone. Denial was over. The tears started to spill. There was nothing, and no one to hang onto anymore. Betsy Dirksen Londrigan was not going to be the 13th Districts next Representative, and Rodney Davis was.
Losing to Rodney wasn’t just losing a potential seat in the House. It was far more than that. It was losing everything I’d clung onto for four months. It was losing the sense of purpose in my own life, the hopeful vision for America that Betsy helped thousands of voters envision for themselves. It was losing the battle to get money out of politics, to create a more accessible healthcare system for voters across central Illinois.
Or so I thought then.
Two months later, I sit at Compass coffee on the last day of this calendar year. A sullen haze of darkness has engulfed Washington DC (literally) as storm clouds close in. The government remains shutdown, our president remains holy only to an app called Twitter, and if you’re like me — 2018 was at many points a difficult year to call myself a proud American.
But frustration is not synonymous with fatalism — and I’m sure as hell not fatalistic. The deeply painful sense of loss I felt on November 6th has been replaced with an even more urgent sense of purpose in my own life, and a recognition that change is incremental.
Rodney Davis won the 13th District by 19 points in 2016 — and two years later — by .5 points. That’s why I’m in the game. That’s why fighting for your values and ideals has power. Change really is possible when you fight for it.
I’m more hopeful than ever for the future of American Democracy because of candidates and teams like #TeamBetsy. And while it’s easy to get caught up in the excitement of the 2020 presidential election, 2019 is here first.
2019 needs to be the year of true activism — the year of canvassing for candidates who might not be household names yet, the year that wide-eyed college graduates choose campaigns over Wall Street, and the year that we decide America’s better history will persevere. 2019 is the year we must keep chipping away at injustice, and pick up where we left off in 2018.
As President Obama reflected this year to students at the University of Illinois, “You cannot sit back and wait for a savior. All we need are decent, honest hardworking people who are accountable and have America’s best interests at heart.” Essentially, it’s going to take all of us. All of us who are unhappy with the status quo.
Nothing short of our nation’s moral compass is at stake. Frustration, meet courage. I’m not sure I believe in New Year’s resolutions, but I believe in a commitment to courage for this new year.
Courage made big waves this past year.
In 2018, 100 women were elected to the House of Representatives, the activism by Parkland students put pressure on lawmakers to address gun violence, and the bravery of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford inspired thousands of women to share their own stories. Voter turnout in the 2018 midterms hit a record, and the first step towards criminal justice reform was met with bipartisan support.
I am still frustrated, but today it is a new kind. It is a deep seated sense that things can and should be better for Americans and citizens of the world. I’m not naive enough to think one year will fix all of our woes, but I’m wise enough to know that courage has momentous power. The right kind of power.
See you tomorrow 2019.
