My dearest, sweetest Sarah,
As I write this, you're wandering around the apartment in a half-awake stupor, sipping your green tea, watching the Graham Norton show, or whatever DIY YouTube channel has struck your fancy this morning. We're doing good - more importantly, you're doing good. These first three months of marriage have been, in a word, real. I love you more than ever. And it's so good to see you up and about and smiling.
Dear Artivists,
I was sitting alone in a Georgia hotel room as the election results rolled in, and it felt increasingly surreal as the projected blue states turned red. I called my family and friends to ground what I was seeing in reality. That night, the same dream played on repeat: I wake up, look at my phone; this has all been a mistake. Relief. But when I reached for my phone the next morning, the notification screen read, “Donald Trump has been elected President of the United States.” There was no more room for denial.
Dear women who felt like I did on November 9,
If comedy is tragedy plus time, 2016 felt like the year time collapsed and those two tropes became indistinguishable.
Dear everyone (of every gender, skin tone, bodily arrangement, assignment given or achieved in the Universe known or unknown in perpetuity now and in the hereafter),
To queer youth of color,
It sucks to be familiar with the sense of impending doom. You might have survived being socialized cis or straight in a queer body. You might have survived institutionalized racism, the gentrification of your home, and the fight to preserve your culture. You might have survived your given family. You might have survived the realization that your home is on a minefield; dirt, grass, concrete and tiny wildlife under siege.
Dear Sex Trafficking Survivor and EMPOWER Clinic Patient,
Dear friends,
I was 22 when Reagan was elected, and seven months later AIDS began. I understand the pain, the devastation, and the loss. This is what I have learned:
Dear Indigenous Family,
Dear Fellow Revolutionaries,
I write to you as a dusty-kneed soldier of the great unfolding rebellion that is America.
I write from the heart, in a pivotal moment in which each of us must decide whether to lead with love or fear. I urge you to remember: Only love is real.
Dear Amazing Activists Everywhere,
The Guerrilla Girls have learned that you just have to keep doing one thing after another, no matter what. Don’t worry if it seems that you are not creating the change we all want. The key is to keep fighting. If you do that we promise that over time your efforts will add up to something, even after the disastrous election of Not My President Trump.
