by cheri sabraw
Sometimes elections do not go our way. Sometimes they do. It’s the ebb and flow of our democracy in which, unfortunately, Maturity and Critical Thinking are not mandated by our Constitution.
I remember when Obama secured his second term: I opened my eyes on the day after the election, felt a pang of concern about the future of the Republic and of the Supreme Court, got out of my bed, readied myself for the day, and went to my office.
Even though the election had not gone my way, even though we had elected a president who would, at times, ignore the law and write his own executive orders, I trusted the system to purge when needed.
I felt like looting that day. I even considered running into the middle of the Sunol Grade on Highway 680 and stopping cars. Topless.
I felt like kicking a stick or swatting a fly—Obama’s rhetoric had been as hollow as Daisy Buchanan’s—but I had students to teach, employees to guide, and parents to counsel.
Besides, I’d give Mr. Obama another chance because that is type of girl I am.
Life went on as it always does. You know how that goes:
You want to make a quesadilla and find a package of shredded cheese with an appropriate expiration date at the bottom of the meats and cheese drawer in your refrigerator only to discover that it has begun to mold.
So you improvise and use hummus instead. You move on.
Of course. (Now get a grip)
There have been times in history when staying in bed over an outcome, hand-wringing until your knuckles are raw, popping tranquilizers, or moving out of your home country to Jupiter (Cher and Streisand, you idiots)–might seem appropriate. Serious times in history or in your own life. I, myself, can think of a hundred examples.
Can you imagine this type of hyperbole during World War II? Can you visualize the Greatest Generation stopping traffic on 680?
Or better yet, can you visualize the millenials who vandalized the Pearl District of Portland storming the beaches at Normandy?
Dudes. The sky is not falling. Only your entitlements are going away.
As someone I know said, “They (the Millenials) just want their binkies.”