I don’t know what I expected after the 2020 election, but it wasn’t this. Sometimes I think, I don’t want to do this anymore. None of us does. We’re all worn out, depleted; the divisions have become chasms, which often feel as though they’re etched in marble. Once again, we’re on the brink of losing democracy while constantly fighting a rear guard action against fascism, and keeping informed has begun to feel like a constant IV drip of poison being injected directly into our bloodstream. It’s corrosive.
And yet …
Four years after E. Jean Carroll first brought her defamation suit against Donald Trump, she prevailed, to the tune of $88.3 million. My lawsuits may be stalled; three of the four criminal trials may not be brought before the election; but E. Jean demonstrated a level of courage and integrity that reduced Donald to the petty, vengeful sexual abuser that he is. And she did this simply by showing and telling the truth.
This is not how I ever imagined I’d be measuring my life, but here we are, Donald and I, still on diametrically opposite ends of everything, just as we were at my grandparents’ formal dining room table.
The difference now—he’s not the only one with power.