The weeks following the 2016 presidential election, I barely left the house. I just read.
[scroll…scroll…click…read]
Holy shit.
[scroll…scroll…click…more reading]
No no no.
[scroll…scroll…click…head in hands]
Shit shit shit shit.
I read everything I could get my hands on. What was I missing? I wanted to understand. A LOT of people were really unhappy. It could not be discounted. I needed to understand.
Between articles on political theory, human behavior, and the electoral college, I guiltily pored over stories of post-election racism, bigotry, and misogyny sent in by people from all over the country (even from my insanely liberal city of Boulder, Colorado).
I found myself constantly checking horrible horrible websites like Why We’re Afraid. Not horrible for its purpose which is powerful and important. But horrible for what reading it did to my insides. I assumed that 95% of the stories were fakes, but even so, which 5% was I ok with being real?
I stumbled across websites dedicated to stories of Asian-specific racism. Shit. Then Chinese-specific racism. Shit shit. Even some Chinese racism that was actually Korean racism because people couldn’t tell the difference between the two. Shit?
When I was inevitably too exhausted to read any more, I lost myself in my kids. I lost myself in their purity and truth. The truth of being 6 and 3. There is no greater truth. I played as hard as I could. I poured every ounce of my energy, awareness, and athleticism into trying to catch those squirrely rats under that damn picnic blanket. They squealed and ran away only to sprint back begging for more. We did that for HOURS.
Don’t we have somewhere to go Daddy?
Nope, we don’t have anywhere to be, just this.
Yes! Best day ever!
We laughed and fell until both sets of cheeks hurt. We went home and bathed away the filth of a day spent completely outdoors. We laughed and laughed some more.
In those hours, in those moments, the world was ok. The world was PERFECT. When I eventually looked up and let the rest of the world seep back in, everything flooded back. Like the precious seconds after awakening where your brain carefully sifts through and organizes what was just a dream and what is reality.
In those weeks, I avoided human beings whenever possible, especially when I was with the kids. My story was that every person I passed was just biting their tongue ready to unleash a scathing “CHINK!” or “Go back to your country!” like I had seen happening in the media.
I wasn’t afraid of dealing with the racism. It’s something I’ve dealt with my whole life and have leveraged to help shape the person I am today and want to be going forward.
My fear was around knowing I wasn’t emotionally ready to respond to a racist encounter in a way I wanted my children to see. I wasn’t emotionally ready to explain to my children why that person had said or done what they had to us.
Just the act of practicing that conversation with the boys in my head broke my heart. But I practiced and practiced because I had to. And when I was finally ready, I walked out of the house and got a coffee for the first time in weeks.
So many people have written about their own experiences with the election. So many different views. All beautifully written. All poignant. All human. So I started to write my own. The more I wrote, the worse I felt.
In sheer desperation, I reached to remember the last time I felt “right.” I felt right being utterly lost in the moment with my kids. What was it? The laughter. The humor. Throughout my life, humor has been my beacon. I crave the laughter. I live the laughter. That is who I am. You cannot take that away from me. You cannot take that away from my kids. In that moment of clarity, I wrote the poem below.
For those who want to try to steal my laughter, I will continue to create things like this poem. And you will see the truth in my laughter and you will see that you cannot take that from me.
WHY I STARTED POPPING MY COLLAR AFTER THE ELECTION
When I’m completely lost in you
My child
Everything about the world is perfect.
The fear that someone will judge you,
The fear that someone will hurt you,
The fear that someone will judge me,
The fear that someone will hurt me,
Melts away.
When I’m completely lost in you
My child
I know who I am in this world.
Even when you climb out of the bathtub
Soaking wet and naked
Begging for a piggy-back ride
I smile and laugh
Because everything about the world is perfect
Even when your balls are on my neck.– Angus Shee
And now you know why I started popping my collar after the election. Neck protection from kid balls. The kind of protection that is apparently necessary in those beautiful moments you are able to be fully present and aware.
For the sentimental types like myself, I put together a printable, cubicle-friendly version to remind me every day of what really matters. All yours if you want it.
