Yesterday Was Terrible

               Yesterday was terrible. Some of us are having flashbacks to November 8, 2016, when this country elected a man who had already proven himself to be an egotistical, racist, misogynist, and who was accused of multiple sexual assaults, to its highest office. For some yesterday was worse. Because yesterday a majority of senators representing a minority of people elevated a man to the Supreme Court who has shown himself to be a ruthless, dissembling partisan and who is credibly accused of sexual assault and sexual misconduct. A president we have for eight years; a Supreme Court justice we have for the rest of their lives. Brett Kavanaugh is not an old man. He could very easily sit on that court for thirty years.

               Judge, soon to be Justice, Kavanaugh represents the worst parts of this country. He represents a willingness to ignore facts to pursue an end goal. He represents the ability to construct and maintain a deeply ingrained image indistinguishable from self-delusion. Most importantly, he represents a complete disregard for women and anyone who has been touched by sexual violence. A man whose ascendancy to the Supreme Court at the expense of a woman he seems to have sexually violated and emotionally wounded, and at the expense of the millions of people, predominantly women, who have been sexually assaulted, is no Justice. He is the embodiment of might makes right, toxic masculinity, white privilege, and the very essence of injustice itself.

               A Supreme Court with both a Justice Kavanaugh and a Justice Thomas sitting on it is not simply a Supreme Court that stands against progressive ideas, but is one that has jeopardized its legitimacy. For how can any progressive, liberal, or Democrat expect fair treatment from Kavanaugh when he openly, publicly, and on television railed against liberals as attempting to take him down as some kind of long-form revenge on behalf of the Clintons, yelling "What goes around comes around!"? How can any woman believe that any case involving them or their autonomy will be fairly heard by this Court when both Thomas and Kavanaugh have been accused of violence against women and their defenses were equal parts 'she's crazy and mistaken' and 'how dare you accuse me, I am the most attacked person on the Earth, a man, and all of my women friends agree'? And in Kavanaugh's case, having been confirmed by fifty senators against the wishes of the majority of the country, every decision that he takes part in, every opinion he writes, will have an asterisk next to it reminding us that he is a liar, a partisan, and quite possibly a sexual violator that we didn't want but was foisted upon us anyway.

               This is a betrayal of the highest order. Our systems have failed us. For while no left-leaning person wanted Kavanaugh on the Court because of his extreme conservatism, the argument against him has been centered around his intemperance, his partisan hostility, his entitlement, his lying, and sexual assault allegations. Any one of those is disqualifying for being considered one of the nine wisest, fairest people this country has to offer who must grapple with the most intense, complex, and consequential issues we can imagine. Yet, instead of replacing him, he was defended as if he was on trial for a murder that not only did he not commit, but was committed by his mustache-twirling accuser. He became a stand in for all men everywhere, as if some woman would one day, at great physical and reputational risk to herself and her family, come forward and accuse us of some chilling sin and forever thwart our wildest dreams. Because if a man like Brett Kavanaugh, who I may remind you not only went to Yale but also knows some women, could be brought down by such an accusation, then what hope is there for the rest of us? But this of course means that we have an Executive Branch that couldn't be bothered to fully vet this man, a Senate that couldn't be bothered treat his nomination and the charges against him as more than a political football, and a culture that cares so deeply about a man's second, third, and fifteenth chance, that if a woman's first is ruined it doesn't care.

               There's a lot of pain right now. And it's deep pain. The kind that's not just in your bones, but in your soul. That pain is real. And it's not real because I feel it, too. It's real because you feel it. It eats away at you, like termites gnawing at wood. Incessant. Constant. Total. And it doesn't stop. There are tears of sorrow and howls of anguish. There are the scowls of hurt, and glares of disgust. And then there is the silence. The silence that comes from being told your pain is not my concern nor is your experience. The silence that comes from being told your government exists for me to consolidate my power and to take away yours.

               It feels hopeless right now. These are the darkest times most of us have ever seen. But though it feels hopeless, there is hope. Not because there is some unseen hope well from which we can draw hope. Not because of some nonsense about how it can't possibly get worse or that it's not so bad. There is hope precisely because you feel pain right now. That pain is proof that you care about your family, your friends, your country, and yourself.

               So in this meditation on the state of our home, and in this realization of all this hurt, I humbly, selfishly, and perhaps out of turn, ask you this: will you please not forget your pain? Will you please not forget your sorrow and your rage? Will you please let it burn so that it lights up the sky for everyone to see? For out of pain there is power. It is your incandescent rage that is the light of our future. That is the fuel that will drive you to seek change, whether through community service, protesting, volunteering, running for office, or just being the best goddamn friend you can be. The fear, pain, and hopelessness each of us feels right now, if we remember it and we use it, is the hope for a better, brighter future.

               Take your time. Drink all the alcohol you need to. Watch all the TV you need to. Sleep as much as you need to. Mourn. But when you're done, please don't give up on America. Please remember your pain. Please remember your hope.