The TML Blog
Why I'm Choosing to Be Grateful
I’m not here to sugarcoat what’s going on right now…times are tough and things are scary. Regardless of who or where we are, we are all feeling the effects of what is happening in our world. And if any of you suffer from anxiety like I do (G.A.D. 🙋🏻♀️), it can definitely exacerbate the fear and stress of it all.
But in spite of all of this—and because I have no control over these outside forces—I am choosing to shift my focus to one of the few things I do have control over: my perspective. And with that said, I am going to spend some time every day for the next week highlighting the things I am most grateful for…an #AttitudeOfGratitude, if you will.
So I have created this template with the intention to share 5 things that I’m grateful for over the next 7 days, and I’m challenging you to do the same. Because in a time of adversity and uncertainty, it’s important to remember the positive things life still brings us.
Today I am grateful for:
My baby brother. (Happy Birthday, Tobe!)
Being back in Alabama and closer to family. (Fun fact: Today is my 4 year anniversary of moving from LA to AL!)
COFFEE. (I think we can all be grateful for that)
My ability to work from home. (And because of this have been unknowingly honing my "social distancing" skills for the past 4 years...who knew?!)
Cozy pajamas. (That I, fortunately, get to work in from home!)
So whether it's big or small, we all have things in our lives that we can be grateful for...even in these bizarre times. Let me know what you're grateful for by posting and sharing this template and tagging me (and a friend or two!) on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter!
To All the Dems I Loved Before
“If by a ‘Liberal’ they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people-their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights and their civil liberties-someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a ‘Liberal’, then I'm proud to say I'm a ‘Liberal’.”
— John F. Kennedy
Well...we somehow managed to make it to 2020. We have survived 29+ (serious?) declared Dem presidential candidates, 12 (interesting?) debates, and a whooole lotta social media posts (rants?) re: who our best bet is to win back the White House in November. And now Super Tuesday is upon us...
For some, determining who their #1 candidate is has been a journey. For others, they've been ride-or-dies since day one. Some have flip-flopped...some have made complete 180's...and (shockingly) some are still undecided. And though many see this as a problem—the fact that there's not one candidate that everyone wants to back—I get it. We all know that there is no such thing as a perfect candidate, but all of the candidates who have entered this race bring something different and meaningful to the table.
So to honor that (and to have a little fun), I thought I would create my own 2019-2020 Democratic Presidential Yearbook Superlative List:
MOST LIKELY TO STAND UP TO THE NRA / MOST LIKELY TO PLAY THE ROLE OF PRESIDENT ON CBS' NEWEST PRIME TIME DRAMA: Rep. Eric Swalwell
MOST GOOD VIBES / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE YOU GO "HUH?": Marianne Williamson
MOST LIKELY TO STICK IT TO TED CRUZ / TINIEST MOUTH: Sen. Michael Bennet
MOST BIPARTISAN / MOST SWOLE: Rep. John Delaney
TALLEST / MOST LIKELY TO DEMONSTRATE HOW NOT TO EAT NY STYLE PIZZA: Mayor Bill de Blasio
BEST CLIMATE CHANGE ADVOCATE / MOST LIKELY TO BE CAST AS CAPTAIN PLANET IN THE TV SHOW REBOOT: Gov. Jay Inslee
MOST LIKELY TO WANT TO GRAB A BEER WITH / MOST UNFORTUNATE NAME: Gov. John Hickenlooper
BEST LABOR & UNION SUPPORTER / MOST FORGETTABLE: Rep. Tim Ryan
MOST LIKELY TO BRING U.S. TROOPS HOME / MOST LIKELY TO BE THE INSPIRATION OF A FUTURE DISNEY VILLAIN: Rep. Tulsi Gabbard
MOST IMPROVED POLICY STANCES / MOST LIKELY TO WIN AN ARM WRESTLING MATCH: Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand
MOST LIKELY TO SUPPORT DREAMERS / MOST LIKELY TO PULL A "PARENT TRAP": Julián Castro
ES MÁS PROBABLE QUE HABLE EN ESPAÑOL / BEST OLLIE: Rep. Beto O'Rourke
BEST STYLE / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE A SUPREME COURT JUSTICE NOMINEE CRY: Sen. Kamala Harris
MOST LIKABLE BILLIONAIRE / MOST LIKELY TO BACK THAT AZZ UP: Tom Steyer
MOST PET-FRIENDLY / BEST DAD JOKES & SICK BURNS: Sen. Cory Booker
BEST MATHLETE / MOST TECH SAVVY: Andrew Yang
MOST HEALTH CONSCIOUS / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE ME SIGN AN NDA AFTER PUBLISHING THIS BLOG: Mayor Mike Bloomberg
MOST LIKELY TO GET A BILL PASSED / BEST BANGS: Sen. Amy Klobuchar
MOST (NON-POLITICALLY) ACCOMPLISHED / BEST ROBOT-DANCE MOVES: Mayor Pete Buttigieg
BEST MODERATE / BEST SHOULDER MASSAGES: VP Joe Biden
MOST CONSISTENT / BEST LARRY DAVID IMPRESSION: Sen. Bernie Sanders
MOST LIKELY TO HAVE A PLAN FOR THAT / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE A BILLIONAIRE CRY: Sen. Elizabeth Warren
In all seriousness, these candidates have dedicated their lives, sacrificed quite a bit, and opened themselves up to relentless scrutiny during this race all in an attempt to do what they could to push this country forward and make it better for us—for all of us. And regardless of whether you're a fan or not, that at the very least is to be admired and respected. I don't yet know who our nominee will be, but I do know that those still left in the race (and those we have lost along the way) all have the ability to realign our moral compass, inject a necessary level of empathy back into our humanity, and help shape a better and brighter future for everyone from the least of these to the marginalized to the middle-American.
I encourage you to vote for who you feel best represents you and your issues. Don't let polls or concerns of "electability" dictate your decision—people are only unelectable if you don't vote for them. But I do hope that regardless of the outcome of this primary, you will join me and #VoteBlueNoMatterWho on November 3rd. Don't give into the division, and don't lose sight of what really matters. The job of these candidates is to present their best case for why they should lead this country, and our job is to make sure one of them secures that position—and our job starts tomorrow. So let's get to work...
Oh, and for what it's worth...if you reeaally want to know who is MOST LIKELY TO WIN MY VOTE ON SUPER TUESDAY: it is absolutely and most definitely Senator Elizabeth Warren.
Piercing the Echo Chamber
"The civil discourse we need will not come from watching our tongues. It will come from valuing our differences and the creative possibilities inherent in them."
— Parker J. Palmer
It's no secret that we are living in a politically polarizing and divisive time. Facebook friend lists are dwindling, more people are migrating to the silos (and news stations) that best fit their ideals, and those who aren't battling it out with others on the internet refuse to even broach the subject of politics. Our country has essentially drawn a line in the sand, crossed its arms, and said, "Not today (or ever), Satan." And I get it...because I'm guilty of all of that, too. After the 2016 election, I was rolling back my friends list like Walmart pricing on Black Friday. I've made the snarky comments online, I've avoided people in real life, and I sought sanctuary in my little blue bubbles.
And honestly, it was what I needed at the time. But just like anything in life, you have to make the choice—to stay dormant or to move forward. I was presented with this choice a month and a half ago when a friend of mine offered me up as a suggested guest on the show Guerrilla Politics. For those who aren't familiar, it's a local, weekly show hosted by Dale Jackson and Dr. Waymon Burke where they discuss all sides of local, statewide, and national political topics. I was terrified not only of the thought of being on television (hellooo anxiety), but also the idea of having to discuss—nay, debate—politics with someone who has strong opposing views (ahem, Dale) on said television. But with some encouragement from friends and family, I said yes. And...I survived. And not only did I survive, but I was then asked by Dale if I would be interested in trying out a guest spot on his daily morning radio show: The Dale Jackson Show.
Now I'm a firm believer in transparency, so I should have prefaced all of this by saying: I was not a huge fan of Dale's. I had never known him personally, but his on-air personality to me was—to put it kindly—off-putting. Before all of this, I had literally zero desire to listen to/watch his shows, much less meet the man. It was clear to me where he stood on most issues and who his main demographic was, and I could safely say I was not in that camp. But I thought if he was willing to have someone like me on his show, who was I to not afford him that same respect. So again, I said yes. And now I'm not only a weekly guest on The Dale Jackson Show (Wednesdays from 8-9 AM ;) ), but I had the opportunity to serve as Dale's guest co-host on this week's episode of Guerrilla Politics. Do we align perfectly on all things political? Not at all. But through doing the shows, I have found that we have way more commonalities and shared opinions than I ever would've imagined. We've had some interesting debates (#TeamDragQueens), but we've always remained respectful of one another. And he'll probably hate that I'm saying this (so don't tell him I said it), but...he's actually kind of a nice guy.
There's nothing wrong with finding "your people" and getting connected to issues and causes you to care deeply about, but try to maintain respect and empathy in your heart for those who may not fall into those same silos. I still believe it's perfectly acceptable to remove people from your life who you feel are toxic and/or don't add value to your life, but try to be mindful of whether you're purging people because they're truly toxic or just because they may not agree with you. And let's be real...I'm all for an occasional snarky comment when appropriate, but try to make sure it's not hurting your overall cause. Because let's face it, it's easy to sit in a room (or a Facebook group) where all of your ideals and opinions are echoed back to you—that's where the community and organizing happens. But if you want to change hearts and minds—and moreover the narrative of what others may have written for you and your beliefs—then you have to step outside of your comfort zone and into the unknown. You may be surprised to find a different perspective, a deeper understanding, and a more positive outlook for the future of politics and humanity in America. I know that I certainly have.
"Fight for the things you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you."
— Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Identifying My Identity
“Identity cannot be found or fabricated but emerges from within when one has the courage to let go.”
— Doug Cooper
As humans, I believe that we all to some degree have an innate desire to be known for something—whether it's a job, a trademark look, or some kind of attribute that makes us unique. And today, in a world run by social media, that desire seems to be amplified with bloggers, influencers, and really anyone trying to find something, anything to help them stand out from the crowd. (I believe the kids are calling it their "brand"?) So when you find something that becomes "your thing", there is a strong sense to hold onto it, tightly...and perhaps for some, too tightly.
For me, it's my hair. Throughout the past 15'ish years, being known as "the girl with the long, red hair" has become "my brand". Friends, family, and (especially) strangers make comments often, which as someone who's #1 love language is "Words of Affirmation," it truly makes my little heart sing. But as silly as it may sound (and I'm sure that it does), what can be perceived as an attractive characteristic can start to become a serious point of insecurity.
Because when you start to become "known" for something, you slowly find yourself putting more and more stock into that thing, and little by little it begins to seep into your psyche and sense of being. It initiates in our subconscious until we find ourselves sitting in a salon chair literally staring it in the face and asking questions like, "What if others don't like it?" ... "What if I'm getting rid of the one thing that makes me special?" ... "What if I'm not 'me' anymore?" This is exactly where I found myself last week—in the midst of an identity crisis (and a mild-moderate anxiety attack).
These questions gave me pause, and I sat for a few moments trying to dig deep to understand why I was holding on to these inches of hair—something on the surface so frivolous and superficial, yet I felt tears welling up in my eyes at the mere thought of cutting them off. That's when the epiphany hit: You cannot confuse "identifiable" with "identity". "Identifiable" is how others recognize and distinguish you...'identity' is how you recognize and distinguish yourself. My hair is something identifiable about me, but it is not who I am. It is not a reflection of my talent, my intellect, or my character...it's literally just hair.
"You cannot confuse 'identifiable' with 'identity'. 'Identifiable' is how others recognize and distinguish you…'identity' is how you recognize and distinguish yourself."
There is nothing wrong with having a brand or a niche or a thing that you're known for. By all means, go out and make a name for yourself, earn that title, or rock that look—just know that those things are a part of you, not the whole you. So whether it's a job, a title, or a look, I encourage you to stay focused on what matters, don't take yourself (or "your brand") too seriously, and when an opportunity to mix things up arises, take the plunge...or the cut. ;)
12 inches gone! Shout-out to Christina at The Red Door for encouraging me to take the leap and doing the damn thing on this head.
History in the Making
"Take a stand for what's right. Raise a ruckus and make a change. You may not always be popular, but you'll be part of something larger and bigger and greater than yourself. Besides, making history is extremely cool."
— Samuel L. Jackson
I woke up this morning with what I can only describe as a "Democracy Hangover"...
Yesterday the Alabama State Democratic Executive Committee held its much-anticipated meeting to create new diversity caucuses, remove its current "leadership", and elect a new Chair/Vice-Chair. If you're not familiar with what led to this monumental meeting, first read this earlier post for reference and context. And as dramatic as the lead-up to this moment has been, you could not have written what transpired just hours before the meeting occurred.
On Friday (at 5:00 PM no less) Montgomery Circuit Judge Greg Griffin granted an injunction filed by Nancy Worley et al. that would essentially cancel the meeting. But just as The Reformers were starting to lose hope, an appeal was filed and the circuit court ruling was stayed by the Alabama Supreme Court. The meeting was back on! And then if all of that weren't crazy enough, later Friday evening Nancy accidentally butt-dialed someone from The Reformers and the 45+ minute conversation between Worley and Joe Reed (the Minority Caucus Leader) was live-streamed on Facebook...and let's just say it was not favorable to their cause. (They even did a rough transcription of the call, because it's so unbelievable, you have to hear it AND read it for yourself—bless you Cara McClure!)
So after this roller coaster of a Friday, I showed up at the Convention Center in Montgomery on Saturday morning (after hyping myself up with lots of caffeine and Hamilton) honestly not quite sure what to expect. I of course was feeling hopeful, but I couldn't help but hold just a tad bit of cynicism (and a whole lot of anxiety) in my heart. After all, the previous SDEC meetings I had attended had all been next-level shit-shows. But those negative thoughts were immediately dashed as soon as I entered the Youth Caucus room—it was FILLED with young people (#demkids). And not just young people, but diverse and impressive and from all over the state. The energy in the room was electric, and I was genuinely overcome with emotion as I sat listening to them one-by-one give their 30-second pitches as to why they wanted to be elected as at-large Youth Caucus members. Unfortunately, we couldn't elect them all, but we were able to add 48 superb new Youth members—39 of which were African American—as well as electing members to the newly-created Native American, Hispanic, Asian/Pacific Islander, and LGBTQ+ Caucuses. THIS is what the Alabama Democratic Party is supposed to look like and represent!
As soon as the caucuses were in place, we gathered downstairs in the main hall for the commencement of the meeting of the full SDEC body. Once a quorum had been established (108 members who were elected prior to this day), it was showtime. It was noted that neither Worley nor Kelly nor Reed were present, although Nancy may still be at home trying to figure out how cell phones work. (#blessherheart) The meeting began with a unanimous vote to adopt the minutes from the October 5th (DNC-approved, Worley non-approved) meeting, as well fill a handful of vacant House District seats. Then—one by one—each caucus presented its slate of new at-large members which were all accepted unanimously and greeted with a standing ovation as they received their credentials and joined the rest of us on the voting floor. It was truly a sight to behold.
Then came the moment we had all been waiting for...the vote to remove Nancy Worley as Chair and Randy Kelly as Vice-Chair. Initially, the motion to remove them was put to a voice vote, but at the wise suggestion of Senator Vivian Figures and the majority vote of the body, it was moved to a roll-call vote. Now, with now 172 voting members present, this becomes a looong and tedious process. But I will say this—getting to verbally shout-out “YES!” in favor of removing Nancy Worley as Chair was one of the most satisfying things I have ever done in my life. And after a unanimous vote (172-0!), it was done: "Nancy Worley and Randy Kelly have been removed as Chair and Vice-Chair of the Alabama Democratic Party." And the crowd ERUPTED. We had done it...we had actually done it.
https://twitter.com/_LifeOfLisa_/status/1190684767517327360?s=20
Now came the next part...electing a new Chair and Vice-Chair. The nominees who had declared their candidacy prior to the meeting were Dr. Will Boyd, Rep. Chris England, and Tabitha Isner. Let me preface this by being forthright and stating my biases regarding this topic—I was #TeamTabitha all the way. That's not to say I was against any other candidate. Both Dr. Boyd and Rep. England have done countless things to better the ADP and represent it and its values well. But in my personal opinion, Tabitha impressed me not only with her incredible run for Congress in 2018, but also with her six months of hard work to help unite our party, recruit at-large members, and make this November 2nd meeting happen. She had earned my vote. But honestly, the beauty of this election was that there was no bad choice.
After some compelling speeches from all three candidates and a roll call vote, Rep. Chris England was declared the Chair of the Alabama Democratic Party (England-104; Isner-63; Boyd-4). This in itself was a historic moment—Rep. England was the first African American elected as Chair of the ADP. After a well-deserved standing ovation, Rep. England took his place to head the remainder of the meeting. The next item on the agenda was the election of the Vice-Chair. (FYI: Per the ADP bylaws, the Vice-Chair must be the opposite gender of the Chair...so in this case, since the newly elected Chair was male, the Vice-Chair would have to be female) There were two women who had declared their candidacy for Vice-Chair prior to the meeting—former Rep. Patricia Todd and Dr. Adia Winfrey—and Tabitha Isner was nominated from the floor. Isner declined the nomination, because (in her words): "I would like for the Chair to have the Vice [Chair] that he wants, so I respectfully decline."
After another roll call vote, Patricia Todd garnered 113 of the 141 votes cast, thereby becoming the new Vice Chair. Patricia Todd, having already made history back in 2006 when she became the first openly gay representative in Alabama, had now added her name in a big way to this historic moment. After the election of Caucus Chairs, a few more motions were brought to the floor—most notably a motion to end the lawsuit filed when Worley was Chair and prohibit any more money from being spent on the attorneys in that case, as well as a motion to add a Disability Caucus as soon as possible but no later than 2022—both of which passed unanimously. Finally after a total of 8.5 hours, the meeting was closed out with some encouraging words from Senator Doug Jones (who had been present all day, as well as DNC representative, Harold Ickes).
It has been a trying 15 months to say the very least. I have personally felt beaten down, discouraged, mortified, furious, frustrated, and a myriad of other unpleasant emotions over these past few months. But this time...this moment...it felt different. It was different. We had proven that not only a quorum of the body wanted change...wanted a better Democratic Party...but we showed up and we demanded that change...we were that change. We let it be known loud and clear and unanimously that we wanted a more diverse and inclusive and forward-thinking Democratic Party. We rallied...we showed up...and we voted. I know there are a few more battles ahead of us, as Nancy has already stated to AL.com that she has not conceded in her role as Chair. But I also know this...
After being surrounded all day by Democrats of all ages, races, backgrounds, and walks of life who are passionate about putting in the work to rebuild this party, what we have done these past 15 months, what we did this weekend, and what we will do in the weeks and months ahead fighting this battle will all be worth it. It won't be easy, and it won't be pretty...but then again when has making history ever been?
What I Knew And What I Know
I've heard women say so many times, "I knew...I just knew!"...and I remember thinking, "How do you just know?" Well, one day in mid-September I finally understood what they meant: I just knew I was pregnant.
After a week of feeling all of the feelings—excitement, anxiety, fear, hope—I finally took a test... "PREGNANT". Those same feelings instantly amplified and washed over me like a terrifyingly glorious wave. This was real...this was happening...I was actually going to be a mom! It was a high I was sure I would never come down from, nor did I ever want to. But what I didn't know is just how quickly that high would end...
A few days (and several more positive tests) later, I started experiencing some minor pain. I had read that was normal and tried to focus on how I was going to surprise Alex with the news. Our six year wedding anniversary would be that Saturday, and I thought what better way to celebrate than with this incredible news! But a few days before, the pain started to intensify, as well as the bleeding, and it became almost unbearable. I called my doctor and made an appointment to have some blood work done, but I knew...I just knew...
I have experienced the loss of loved ones and dear relationships...I have suffered heartbreak and tragedy...but nothing—none of it—could have prepared me for the level of pain I felt in that moment. I cried til my eyes were swollen shut...I screamed til my throat was raw...I cursed and threw things and prayed and laid in the fetal position in the floor of my bathroom. I was gutted. I was angry. I was devastated.
“It's an odd dichotomy…feeling as though you—or your body—has failed, while also feeling like something has been stolen from you.”
See, what many people don't know about me is that since I was a young teenager, I have always held this (seemingly irrational) fear that I would never be able to have children. No doctor had told me such—it was just some dark notion that has lingered in the back of my mind for nearly 20 years. And for a little while, those dark dreams had been dashed, and I had proven my anxiety to be wrong. So when it was confirmed that I had in fact miscarried, those dark dreams had now turned into my worst—and very real—nightmare.
I still have a hard time even saying the word: "miscarriage." If you look it up in the dictionary, one of the first synonyms you will find is "failure," and that really resonates with me. It's an odd dichotomy...feeling as though you—or your body—has failed, while also feeling like something has been stolen from you. I feel guilty, yet victimized. I feel self-reproach, yet self-pity. I feel "why not me?", yet "why me?!"
“It's a club that no one wants to join, yet there are so, so many members.”
The first few weeks I went through (what I dubbed) the Triple D Cycle: 1) Depression; 2) Denial; 3) Distraction. Repeat. I've tried my best to keep busy and put on a brave face, but I've also allowed myself to have moments where I feel those hard feelings fully and deeply. The goal is to not suppress those emotions, but also to not become consumed by them. And a month later, I'm still struggling with finding that balance.
One out of every four pregnancies ends in a miscarriage. That is a truly devastating statistic. I have dear friends who have suffered miscarriages and fertility issues, and my heart broke for them. And now being on this side of it, the heaviness somehow feels even heavier. Because you're not just grieving this lost embryo…you're mourning the nursery you had already decorated in your head, the joy on your parents' faces after telling them they're going to be grandparents, the life that will never be. It's a club that no one wants to join, yet there are so, so many members. But I am fortunate in the sense that my friends have been very open with me about their pain and struggles, which has allowed me to be more open and honest about my own experience—and therapy...thank god for therapy.
But keeping with that honesty, I initially didn't want to tell anyone (with the exception of my husband, of course). I mean...how do you casually bring that up in conversation? Why tell people who care about you something that will just make them sad and pity you? Why burden others with your sadness or pain if you don't have to? But then I felt that sadness begin to turn into anger... You see, the world doesn't just stop, even if it feels like it's crashing down on you. I still had projects to complete...laundry to do...relationships to maintain...emails to respond to...meetings to attend... There were days where I sat at my computer and literally screamed at the (obviously unknowing) person on the other side, "Do you have any idea what I'm going through right now?!" And of course, the answer was no.
“...I understand that your gain does not equal my loss...”
That's when I knew I had to write about it. Not for sympathy or pity or to make excuses for being emotionally/physically checked out—but for understanding. I also wanted to write about it, because as an advocate for removing the stigma surrounding mental health and related topics, to not share my personal experience would be hypocritical in my eyes and only perpetuate the stigma. And as I said, I am so lucky to have friends who have shared their experiences with me, as well as an amazing therapist...and I understand everyone is not as fortunate to have both or either of those things. So if my story can help one person out there feel less alone, then it's worth the temporary pain and vulnerability that comes with writing this blog.
To all my mama friends out there—please do not feel like you have to tiptoe around me or handle me with kit gloves. Keep sharing your funny stories and cute pictures of your kiddos. To all my pregnant gal pals—please do not feel like you have to avoid me. Keep posting those baby announcements, ultrasound pictures, bump updates, etc. Will they make me a little sad? Honestly, they most likely will. BUT...please know that I understand that your gain does not equal my loss and that I am genuinely and sincerely happy for you. And to all my ladies who have experienced or are currently experiencing the loss of a pregnancy—please do not feel like you have to bear this burden on your own. Let your family, friends, loved ones help you carry some of the weight. Lean on them, talk to them, confide in them. And if you feel like you can't, then please come lean on me. I will sit with you, cry with you, scream with you, or just quietly hold your hand. Your feelings—whatever they may be—are yours and yours alone, and you are justified in all of them...just don't feel like you have to feel them alone.
I've learned by now that you can't put a time limit, or any parameters, on grief—it ebbs and flows like the tide, with some days giving you space and the appearance of "normal" while others leave you feeling like a tsunami is crashing over you. I still have good days and bad days...moments of complete peace and moments of absolute meltdowns. But along with support, my friends' stories have also given me hope, as many of them now have beautiful, precious rainbow babies that I, too, have the privilege to love on. So it may not be today...tomorrow...or even months from now, but I am confident that I will get through this...that I will be okay...and that one day I will be granted the blessing of being a mother.
I know it...I just know it.
Point of (dis)Order
"A house divided against itself cannot stand."
— Abraham Lincoln
Whew. Where to begin? I suppose at the beginning...
After diving head-first into local politics almost 3 years ago, I decided at the beginning of 2018 I was going to take an even bigger step in "being the change I wish to see" by running to represent House District 10 on the Alabama State Democratic Executive Committee. I had been warned by previous/current SDEC members that it was quite the cluster, but I thought, "What better reason to get involved and help the Party progress!?" After the election of Senator Doug Jones, my level of hope for Democratic politics in Alabama was at an all-time high with dreams of turning this crimson red state into a light shade of purple. That hope was shaken back in August of 2018...and those dreams were nearly dashed 2 days ago.
I won't dive into the details of what led to the October 12th meeting, but some fellow young SDEC members and I wrote an open letter on the importance of this meeting and urged all SDEC members to attend this past Saturday. Upon arrival, it was very clear that this meeting would not be going smoothly—the tension in the air was thick and the emotions were already running high. Roll call was done, which showed that 161 members were in attendance (which notably included House Minority Leader, Rep. Anthony Daniels, Rep. Laura Hall, Rep. Chris England, and Sen. Vivian Figures). The meeting (which started 30+ minutes late) kicked off with some bizarre ramblings from Chair Worley (Shriners concession stand breakfast hot dog, anyone?), a request for the paper signs to be put down (because it was a "potential safety risk"?), and (one of the few positive notes of the day) a recognition of the historic elections that recently occurred in Montgomery and Talladega. But—as you can imagine—the positivity was very short-lived.
Several SDEC members began calling for a Point of Order, as well as a Point of Inquiry—requesting her to state which set of bylaws this meeting would be operated under (the old, non-DNC approved bylaws or the DNC approved bylaws which were voted on by the SDEC on October 5th and accepted)—all of which Chair Worley blatantly ignored. After many attempts to ignore and skirt around the Point of Inquiry, Chair Worley finally stated that she did not acknowledge the (DNC-approved and legally called) meeting held on October 5th as legitimate and that the current meeting could be operated under both sets of bylaws. This outrageous statement unsurprisingly sent the room into an uproar and was met with a motion to immediately adjourn. The roll call vote on the motion to adjourn: 73-YES; 88-NO. The chaos would continue...
Again several Points of Order were called—one specifically asking how much of the Party's money has been spent in legal fees defending the Chair and Vice-Chair against the many recent challenges (which, FYI: ~$200,000)—and again, Chair Worley flagrantly steamrolled them. That is until Vice-Chair Kelly called for a motion to postpone the minutes of the October 5th meeting indefinitely, a moment which aroused confusion and, frankly, laughter. Because as Rep. England eloquently pointed out, this motion would mean that the ADP "leadership" is in fact acknowledging AND validating the meeting that occurred on October 5th and the business that was conducted within it. From what I could discern from the debate that followed, that motion was (temporarily) tabled.
Another much-needed bright spot of the meeting was the announcement of numerous and amazing accomplishments of Alabama Young Dems this past year—although it was somehow not acknowledged by the Vice-Chair of Youth Affairs and had to be brought up as a motion to correct the record (shout-out to James Parker, Jr. - HD28). In hindsight, I believe it was this very moment that retained what little hope I had left and fueled me through the rest of the meeting (that and the two very large coffee drinks I consumed that morning). And it was desperately needed. Because what happened next was a level of shit-show I was not prepared for...
The DNC—oh, excuse me—TOM PEREZ sent a letter to Chair Worley on October 9th clearly stating that the bylaws voted on and passed on October 5th had been validated by the DNC Rules and Bylaws Committee and that those should be the bylaws under which all meetings going forward should be operated, as well as no vacancies should be filled until the November 2nd meeting. As you can imagine, Chair Worley gave two giant middle fingers to those instructions and not only conducted business under her bylaws but also moved forward with filling several vacancies. More Points of Order and motions to adjourn were simply ignored. But the ultimate "F U" moment came when Matthew Brown - HD21 made a motion to have DNC representative, Harold Ickes, speak to the Committee, and Chair Worley stated that "there would have to be a unanimous vote for a non-member to speak", and wouldn't you know it...there were a few objections from the Committee, so Mr. Ickes was not allowed to speak. I repeat—A MEMBER OF THE DNC WAS NOT ACKNOWLEDGED OR ALLOWED TO ADDRESS THE COMMITTEE.
During the umpteenth roll call vote—this time on whether to substitute the bylaws (which ones, I'm still not even sure)—I took this opportunity to meditate, eat some chips, and watch the kickoff of the Alabama v. TAMU game. At this point, the mental break was honestly welcomed and very much needed. Once the bylaw substitution vote passed (I believe substituting the non-DNC approved bylaws for the DNC approved bylaws), Vice-Chair Kelly motioned for the (previously voted on and DNC approved on October 5th) November 2nd meeting to be canceled and instead held on November 16th...maybe?? But again, this would be acknowledging and validating the October 5th meeting and all of the business discussed and voted on as a result—which was in complete contradiction of the claims of illegitimacy made by Chair Worley and Vice-Chair Kelly himself. What is real...what is valid...what is legitimate...what the hell is happening??
At this point, the room, completely consumed by animosity and division, erupted into total anarchy—screaming, name-calling, and more calls for Points of Order and motions that (shockingly) were ignored. I honestly couldn't tell you what was said by Chair Worley in the last two minutes of that meeting due to the pure chaos that had ensued, except the word "ADJOURNED" echoed loud and clear over the speaker. And that was it. We were dismissed. Four and a half hours of pure pandemonium, and all I was left with was embarrassment, disappointment, confusion, and an overwhelming amount of sadness.
I have been a Democrat all my life—even before I knew what it was or what it meant. I want to uplift, empower, and support those of marginalized communities and those who also want to do all they can for the betterment of the collective. I want elections like that of Senator Doug Jones, Mayor-elect Steven Reed, and Mayor-elect Timothy Ragland to be the norm, not an anomaly. I want to leave my community, my state Party, my world better than I found it. As a young(ish) person, I constantly hear, "Yay a young person! Where are the rest of you? Why doesn't your generation care about what's going on?!" And on the surface, that seems like a fair question. However, after witnessing firsthand the atrocity that was the October 12th meeting, how could anyone in their right mind—much less the youth—want to involve themselves in such ridiculousness? Moreover, we (Millennials and Gen Z) are trying to finish school and establish careers and start families and pay bills and be activists whilst a majority of us are being crippled by student loan debt paired with low-paying jobs, and quite frankly we do not have the time nor the patience to engage in this kind of bullshit. But even in those moments when some of us attempt to pull up a chair and join the conversation, we are then swiftly patted on the head and told to go sit at the kiddie table to wait our turn.
I don't know what the future holds for the SDEC or the Alabama Democratic Party as a whole—only time (and the DNC) can tell us that. But I know this much...this state is full of hardworking, smart, talented, dedicated, and all-around badass progressive young people who want to move the Democratic Party and the state of Alabama forward. Our futures and those of our children are most at stake. So my suggestion to those who, too, want these things would be to drop your decades-old grudges, step aside, and allow space for people of our generation to make the significant contributions that we know we have the potential to make. Otherwise, you can fully expect my fellow young rabble-rousers and me to build our own damn table...and you can't sit with us.
The Lizzo Effect
"If I'm shinin', everybody gonna shine // I was born like this, don't even gotta try // I'm like chardonnay, get better over time // Heard you say I'm not the baddest, bitch, you lied..."
— Lizzo
I love to dance—I always have. I'm not talking about "So You Think You Can Dance"-formally-trained dancing (although I did take one "acrobatic jazz" class when I was eight years old where I gave an epic recital performance dressed in all the neon-colored polyester and set to the tune of "Joy to the World"). <insert hair flip> I'm talking about out on a dance floor with my best girlfriends...in the aisles of the grocery store...all up in my car (safely ((ish)), of course)...I just love. to. dance.
And a few months ago (after falling down yet another rabbit hole of dance videos on YouTube), I was feeling inspired to research adult hip-hop classes in the area. Now mind you I am certainly not the greatest of dancers, but ya girl has some rhythm and was known to drop down and get her eagle on from time to time back in the day. (You're welcome for the visual) There was nothing I could find at the time that was what I was looking for, so I just went back to twirling with my vacuum in the privacy of my living room a la Mrs. Doubtfire.
Fast forward to a week ago when—lo and behold—I received an email from a local dance studio advertising their new adult hip hop class! And not only that, it is reasonably priced, happening on a day/time of the week that I can easily attend, and literally located across the street from my neighborhood. It's as if the dance gods were all hitting the Woah whilst smiling upon me in unison.
But then I immediately felt that switch flip. You know the one—insecurity, apprehension, terror. I found myself looking down and taking inventory of my body: I'm not in the greatest of shape. Parts of me move and jiggle that didn't use to before. That knee injury from twelve years ago is starting to take its toll. What if others in the class stare at or judge me? What if I look ridiculous? What if I'm *gasp* the "big girl" among a gaggle of J-Lo backup dancers?!
I felt myself spiraling into this black hole of self-doubt and started to just delete the email from my inbox and my brain. But as luck (or maybe those dance gods I mentioned earlier) would have it, just as I was clicking through the email, Lizzo's Good As Hell came up on my playlist. I suddenly found myself singing along and doing some serious chair-dancing and hair-tossing. The switch had been flipped off...just like that. And it was in that moment I realized that I was about to allow my fears and insecurities to prevent me from doing something I love.
"We cannot allow anything or anyone to steal our joy—especially ourselves."
Am I currently in my "physical prime"? No. But I am still healthy and capable of movement. Am I carrying around more weight than I ever have? Yes. But my body is deserving of love no matter how many imperfections or the number on a scale. I know these things...and I knew these things when I first opened that email. And yet I—like so much of our society—have been conditioned to believe not only that the weight/size of our bodies matters, but also that they must reach a certain standard to be deemed "acceptable". As if there's a specific criterion we must meet in order to wear certain clothing, move on a dance floor, or just exist in the world.
And the craziest part for me is that if someone else were to talk to me that way—tell me I'm too big or too old or too inexperienced—I would be 100% that bitch and tell them all the way the hell off. So why would I allow myself to speak about myself in that way? Life is too short and the world is, at times, too ugly to not enjoy every pleasure it can bring. We cannot allow anything or anyone to steal our joy—especially ourselves.
"The hardest type of love is and will always be self-love—but it's also the best kind of love."
We are all deserving of love and the opportunity to pursue our passions. Full stop. Should being healthy and taking care of our bodies be a priority? Of course. But instead of taking physical inventory of myself—whether it be my pants size or that new roll that seemingly appeared overnight—at the end of the day, I'm going to take inventory of the things that actually matter: was I kind to someone today...did I accomplish a goal...am I allowing myself enough self-care mentally, physically, emotionally...did I learn something new...did I do something today that brought myself or someone else joy.
The hardest type of love is and will always be self-love—but it's also the best kind of love. We can speak about it, write about it, and even sing about it til we're blue in the face, but until we practice it—consistently—every day, we won't ever fully achieve it. That is why at the end of each day I am challenging myself to start writing down 3-5 things that I accomplished, that I'm grateful for, and/or that I love about myself in an attempt to shift my perspective. And when those icky thoughts start to creep in, I will reject those words as if they were being spoken by my greatest of haters. And I challenge you to do the same—because we are smart and kind and strong and hard-working and funny and loving and giving and so many wonderful things that actually matter.
And if you're wondering if I signed up for that hip hop class or not...the answer is not only did I sign up for it, but I also pre-registered and committed to taking the entire multi-week session. I'm still nervous and have some insecurities to work through, but I'm excited to step out of my comfort zone and do something that brings me joy. I owe myself that—nay—I deserve that. Because in the words of our Lord and Savior Lizzo: "I don't need a crown to know that I'm a queen." And neither do you.
My Take on the Third Dem Debate
GRAPHIC COURTESY OF FIVETHIRTYEIGHT.COM
Whew. After a semi-exhausting first two rounds (and four total nights) of debates, I was excited to take in this pared down round of front-runners, where they would have more of an opportunity to get down to the "nitty gritty" of some of the issues, as well as address other issues that had been neglected in previous debates.
Here are my humble views on how Round 3 went down:
Round 3:
Sen. Bernie Sanders — Nothing new to report here, really. If you err on the side of optimism, he was consistent. If you don't, he was predictable. Although regardless of where you stand on the issue of Medicare For All, Sen. Klobuchar's quip, "While Bernie wrote the bill, I read the bill," paired with Mayor Pete's comment, "The problem, Sen. Sanders, with that damn bill that you wrote and that Sen. Warren backs is that it doesn't trust the American people," definitely landed hard and helped make a case for those with a more moderate/centrist position regarding healthcare.
Sen. Elizabeth Warren — Per usual, I felt she was solid in the beginning, but then seemed to almost disappear for most of debate. Her opening and closing statements were the strongest and most balanced, and she certainly connected with me (and I'm sure many other Millennials) when she spoke on the student debt crisis and the high costs of childcare.
Mayor Pete Buttigieg — Like Sen. Warren, I felt as though he faded into the background for a large chunk of the debate, but when he did speak, he delivered some solid talking points and made the most of his time. His highlights to me were when he called for his fellow candidates to stop using the platform to score political points (we're all looking at you, Castro) and his closing statement, which was heartfelt and resonated with anyone who has a soul.
Beto O'Rourke — Ok, so...I still not planning to catch a ride on the "Beto Bandwagon" anytime soon, but I would be lying if I said he didn't have a good night. After the tragic mass shooting occurred in his hometown of El Paso a few weeks ago, he came out the clear winner on the topic of gun control with a bold and fiery exclamation, "Hell, yes, we're going to take your AR-15, your AK-47!" paired with the accolades he received from some of his fellow candidates on his stance and outspokenness on the topic. And I, too, give him kudos for his advocacy on this incredibly important issue. (But if you think I've forgotten about the Round 1 Debate, you would be incorrecto)
Sen. Amy Klobuchar — Like Beto, I found her performance this round to be a big improvement upon the earlier rounds. She (both literally and figuratively) read Bernie for filth regarding his Medicare For All bill, as well as put up a strong defense of her record when it was called into question. And her personal story regarding her work to enact the 48-hour maternity hospital stay rule in Minnesota really resonated with me. But also like Beto, I am still not "All About Amy" just yet.
Sen. Kamala Harris — She definitely had a different strategy going into this round, which was clearly to focus all of her critiques on the current administration as opposed to her Dem opponents. And with several comments made throughout the debate about "infighting", this appeared to be a good move on her part. (But did anyone else grab some popcorn and pray for mercy on Ol' Joe when the topic of race came up again?) She seemed very relaxed this round, too, even landing some pretty funny jokes with her opening statement and her comparison of 45 and the Wizard of Oz (“You know, when you pull back the curtain, it’s a really small dude.”) Oh, and her closing statement somehow kicked up some dust in my living room... #imnotcryingyourecrying
Julián Castro — BRUH. I had actually begun to like him more and more, round by round, but his performance this time was ROUGH. His blatant and overzealous attack on Biden was cringe-worthy, and it only benefited Joe by making him appear more sympathetic. (I mean, come on, Julián, he's somebody's grandpa!) I personally think he's vying for a VP spot, so maybe this was part of his plan?? (Because let's be real...I would pay a pretty penny to see him go in on Pence like that on a debate stage)
Andrew Yang — Whew. Ok, so...like Castro, I too had started to become a fan of Yang's the more I heard from him. I felt he brought an interesting perspective and had some great policy ideas. BUT...between his icky Asian stereotype "joke" and his gimmicky promotion of his Freedom Dividend plan, he certainly didn't do himself any favors. I honestly don't think I could sum up his performance any better than Mike Drucker did on Twitter, so I'm just going to leave this right here.
Sen. Cory Booker — I felt this was another solid night from Sen. Booker. His multiple references of his experiences in his community and neighborhood felt sincere and humble. And Sen. Harris wasn't the only one who came with jokes—I'm still giggling over his wisecrack about Trudeau's "menacing" hair. Being the first to chastise Castro for his attack on Biden while still holding Joe accountable for the things Castro was calling him out for definitely scored him some points. (But whether those points will reflect in the polls remains to be seen)
VP Joe Biden — I've got to be honest...he performed well this round. Aside from his continued efforts to cherry-pick his involvement with the Obama administration, the strong defense of his attacks paired with the support he received from his fellow centrists (and again, the mercy showed to him by Kamala regarding race) allowed him to not only garner the most talk time but also come out as one of the top performers.
Final Thoughts:
Overall, I enjoyed this debate. I would personally like it to be pared down even more, but I was still able to get a better feel for these candidates and see aspects of them I hadn't yet before.
One of my biggest "CONS" was the lack of diversity in which candidates were asked questions. Although I know there's no way to ensure that they all get exactly equal talk time, I feel that much more could be done by the moderators to see to it that there's a more level playing field. (After all, we are Democrats, right?) Another big "CON" for me: again, this debate was dominated by the topic of healthcare. I mean, don't get me wrong...healthcare is obviously one of the most important issues America is facing today, but sweet Democratic baby Jesus, there have been so many critical issues that have yet to have much (if any) discussion on the debate stage. For example: the economy, equal pay, abortion rights, maternal health, family leave, domestic violence, mental health, education, childcare, student loan debt crisis, criminal justice reform, marijuana legalization, LGBTQ+, sexual harassment, etc. etc. etc… "PRO"(ish): Was it just me, or did everyone suddenly shift from giving Obama hell last round to kissing his as...err...feet this round? (My guess is Michelle made a couple of phone calls after that last debate to check some people, remind them of who the hell they are, and gave them some "notes" for this round) Regardless, I'm glad everyone's back on #TeamObama.
Thanks again for reading my thoughts on this third round of debates. What were your takes on my rundown? What did you think were the biggest hits and misses of this round? I would love to hear your thoughts!
If you'd like to read my takes on the previous debates, you can do so here:
My Take on the Second Dem Debate
GRAPHIC COURTESY OF FIVETHIRTYEIGHT.COM
Alright...here we are again. ROUND 2. I felt like the first round of debates was more of a warm-up with the candidates in feeling out the debate stage, their opponents, and what the viewers would respond to most. My hope for the second round (aside from less candidates, which clearly didn't happen) was that some of the candidates would come out strong on their stances and make attempts to separate themselves from the pack—some did, some faded into the background, and some are possibly still on the debate stage in search of their political careers.
So here it is—my takeaway from Round 2:
Round 2, Night 1:
Sen. Bernie Sanders — He came dressed in his best pair of sassy pants, and I was here 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 it 👏🏻 . He had some great zingers + sound bites, and he definitely held tight to the left with his progressive messaging.
Sen. Elizabeth Warren — I felt she was extremely strong throughout the night on all topics this round, and her Mortal Kombat ending of Delaney was more than epic. She’s my declared winner of the night. #FinishHim
Mayor Pete Buttigieg — I thought he was solid and did an excellent job leveraging his age as a strength, when most would perceive it as a weakness. And his lines about structural democratic reform and “Repubs will call us crazy socialists no matter what, so let’s just stand up for the right policies” were definitely shining moments for him.
Beto O'Rourke — Well, he was better than the last round, but that’s not saying too much. (¿Cómo se dice…"meh"?)
Sen. Amy Klobuchar — I found her to be stronger and more confident this round as well. She has some good policy ideas, but I just don’t think she’s a candidate people can get really excited about (including myself).
John Hickenlooper — I still stand by my statement that he should be disqualified for his name alone.
Rep. Tim Ryan — In the words of our Lord Ariana Grande: #thankunext
John Delaney — R.I.P. Swole Daddy
Marianne Williamson — I'm shook just typing this, but she did well. Like, shockingly well…to the point where I thought momentarily I might be the crazy one…that is until her closing statement. #CareBearStare
Gov. Steve Bullock — He won’t win the nomination, but he could always try for a career in beauty pageants and/or soap operas.
BONUS: Jake Tapper was definitely "that friend" in middle school who would secretly 3-way call you to try and get you to talk shit about your other friend on the line.
Round 2, Night 2:
Sen. Kamala Harris — She was strong and polished, but I felt like she didn’t bring the same level of intensity this round as she did the first (maybe it was muted by the others who raised theirs?). Also, as much of a fan as I am not of Gabbard, her call-out of Harris’ record stung. Still think she’s a strong contender regardless.
Rep. Tulsi Gabbard — Did y’all know she was deployed to Iraq?! Ok, in all seriousness, I sincerely appreciate her service to our country…and I would also appreciate it if she continued that service in Congress.
Gov. Jay Inslee — He did just as expected and harped mostly on the climate crisis. And there IS a climate crisis…but the world is also figuratively on fire with so many other issues that we have to address. You can’t come off as a single-issue candidate and expect to go far. Another #thankunext
Sen. Michael Bennet — Sweet, sweet Michael Bennet. I know you are more than your abnormally tiny mouth and Muppet voice, but it is incredibly distracting from anything you’re saying. I truly cannot.
Mayor Bill de Blasio — From attempting to moderate the debate himself to trying to pass the buck on the Eric Garner issue, he sucked👏🏻it👏🏻up👏🏻. More like de BLAHsio…de BlasiNO…de BlasiGO…DUH Blasio…(thanks folks, I’ll be here all night) 🙋🏻♀️
Julián Castro — I felt he had a great night, and I am becoming more and more a fan of his the more I hear from him. I'm hoping he's able to qualify for the September debates.
Andrew Yang — Ok, so he has no chance at winning (obviously), BUT…the man has some great ideas AND is hilarious. I’m glad someone like him is in the mix to bring a different perspective to some of these big issues. I am very much here for the #yanggang.
Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand — Girlfriend was snatching wigs AND sponsors! (#clorox) Straight out the gate she came off much stronger and more fierce than last round. She’s not in my top tier currently, but I feel like last night she showed a different side of herself and gave her campaign a much-needed boost. Not sure if it will reflect in the polls, but BRAVA!
Sen. Cory Booker — CLEAR WINNER. Even though he is known for being a great speaker, I was still surprised by how well he performed: talked policy, went on the offense and called others out when necessary, called for unity among the candidates when things started getting messy, and—like Gillibrand—probably snagged himself a new sponsor (#koolaid) along with one of the best lines/sickest burns of the whole round.
VP Joe Biden — Has anyone checked on Uncle Joe since last night’s ass whoopin’? Sweet baby Democratic Jesus. I’m interested to find out if the other nine candidates made a pact prior to the debate to go IN on him collectively. It was hard to watch at times. I felt like he defended himself the best he could given the circumstances (and definitely got the most screen time because of it), but some of the blows landed REAL hard and I truly think will hurt him going forward. And he certainly didn’t do himself any favors with his greeting of Harris pre-debate or his seemingly senile closing statement. Siiiiigh #malarkey
BONUS: All in all, it was a very spirited debate, but I HATE the whole first hour was almost exclusively focused on healthcare with lots of other potential topics being left out. Looking forward to the next round being pared down in candidates and amped up in varied issues. Oh, and Jake “Regina George” Tapper still sucks.
Thanks for reading my humble thoughts on this second round of debates. I'm interested to see who will make the cut and qualify for the next round, and I'm excited to have the field more narrowed down. Did you agree with my rundown? What did you think were the biggest hits and misses of this round? I would love to hear your thoughts!
If you'd like to read my take on the previous debate, you can do so here:
My Take on the First Dem Debate
Graphic courtesy of FiveThirtyEight.com
Like millions around the country, I found myself glued to my TV to take in what was sure to be an interesting night (err...nightS) of debate between the twenty qualified Democratic candidates all vying to become the 46th President of the United States.
And also like the millions watching, I had some opinions about it. There was a lot to take in (and by that I mean entirely too many damn candidates), so in the interest of time and attention span, here is my abbreviated takeaway from Round 1:
Round 1, Night 1:
Julián Castro — He was my clear winner for night one. He was prepared, but genuine…showed as experienced, but not super-establishment…asserted himself without being obnoxious…and pushed the other candidates on some of the issues, especially immigration.
Sen. Elizabeth Warren — I felt like she started strong and finished strong, but there was a serious lagging in the middle. Being the first one out of the gate hitting Medicare For All definitely scored her some solid points.
Sen. Cory Booker — He definitely flexed his strength as an orator and had some solid policy points, but his speaking on the opioid crisis paired with his baggage with Big Pharma didn’t sit well with me.
Mayor Bill de Blasio — The only shining moment for me was when he pointed out the misplaced blame of America’s problems on immigrants instead of big corporations and the 1%. Of which I concur.
John Delaney — #swoledaddy
Gov. Jay Inslee — I'm sorry...who??
Sen. Amy Klobuchar — I truly, truly hate to say this about a fellow woman, but…I found her to be bland and borderline obnoxious. I did feel she got one or two good talking points in, and her call-out of Inslee on the topic of women's rights was equal parts glorious and hilarious!
Rep. Tulsi Gabbard — I have complete and utter appreciation for all service men & women and vets, but I think she misused what little time she had constantly talking about her service instead of actual policy. Also, that reminder of her early non-support of LGBTQ+ issues definitely hurt her. But her call-out of Ryan on the Taliban/Al-Qaeda comment made me literally LOL.
Beto O'Rourke — Pandering. Word Salad. Cringey. Or in Beto’s words: "No bueno."
Rep. Tim Ryan — #boyBYE
Round 1, Night 2:
Sen. Kamala Harris — WINNER by a mile. She was strong and measured while making some exccellent policy points. She also took great control over the race conversation and in the process #AryaStark’ed the hell out of Uncle Joe.
Mayor Pete Buttigieg — He did as well as I had expected. He, too, made some good policy points, and his line: “We’ll have no idea who he’s pissed off more by that point” was a great LOL moment and a personal highlight of the night. And although I feel that he handled the question regarding the recent South Bend police incident fairly well, it still leaves the question of, “Why wasn’t/hasn’t more been done to prevent this?” unanswered and will potentially hurt his run in the end.
Sen. Bernie Sanders — I’ve never been a big fan (don't @ me, Bernie Bros), but I’m also not a hater. I felt he was predictable and used his time to drive home his main talking points. Not a negative necessarily, just…predictable.
Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand — She did well, but she was immensely overshadowed by Harris. And although I appreciate her attempt to address women’s issues, it was so rushed and talked over by some of the other candidates that it didn’t land as strongly as it could have.
Andrew Yang — I love a good wildcard, and I’m seriously considering donating to his campaign just to hear more from him.
Sen. Michael Bennet — The only thing worth remembering is his comment about not being able to get anything done in Congress til Cocaine Mitch is gone. Also #DitchMitch.
John Hickenlooper — Should be disqualified by name alone.
VP Joe Biden — #AryaStark'ed
Marianne Williamson — #CareBearStare #WITAF
Rep. Eric Swalwell — When you actually manage to out-cringe Beto. He was definitely tonight's #boyBYE.
Thanks for reading my humble thoughts on this first round of debates. I for one am certainly looking forward to how things develop over the coming months and these future debates. Did you agree with my rundown? What did you think were the biggest hits and misses of this round? I would love to hear your thoughts!
Do You Even Ally, Bro?
“The job of a good ally is not to save anybody but rather to help create the conditions under which people can assert and grow their own power.”
— Rinku Sen
We just finished celebrating Pride Month—and a beautiful Pride Week here in Huntsville, AL—but these past few days I have found myself constantly thinking about something I saw recently in regards to being an "ally".
Ally is defined by Webster as "one that is associated with another as a helper," which I feel is essentially what most people think of when using the term. And although I consider myself to be an ally of any/all marginalized groups, this video I came across titled "5 Tips For Being An Ally" by Franchesca Ramsey really opened my eyes and mind to certain aspects of allyship I was overlooking. She perfectly explains "privilege" (what it is and what it isn't), which I have personally done a lot of work on the past few years—fully understanding my own privileges and how that affects my experiences, relationships, and the world around me (and I still have work to do).
But the most crucial piece of the puzzle that I was missing—and I feel many others are missing—is shifting the focus from the noun form to the verbform. By this I mean that it is not enough to call yourself an ally or to not hold bigoted/racist/homophobic/xenophobic/misogynistic ideals, but you—WE—must actively (and continually) fight against these ideals and support those in the marginalized communities who are affected. Simply put, it is more important to DO than to BE.
We need men to fight against and call out misogyny when they see it...we need straight/cis people supporting LGBTQ+ organizations and educating the people around them on issues important to their communities...we need white people to protest when unarmed black men are being gunned down and support people of color who run for leadership positions.
Wearing statement tees, reposting a supportive article, or attending a rally or march is good and important, but your activism and allyship cannot just be performative and superficial. You have to listen to people in these marginalized communities, learn what their issues are, figure out how you can leverage your own privilege to help elevate (but not drown out) their message, and then continue to stay engaged. I recognize that this isn’t a completely original thought or a subject that hasn’t been broached before, but it’s important that we continue to have these conversations and remind ourselves that we can always learn and grow in our activism. As a person of privilege, the conversations can be uncomfortable and hard at times, but they’re vital and necessary. We need to learn how to be more comfortable in the uncomfortable because that is where change truly happens.
It's Okay Not to Be Okay
"If we start being honest about our pain, our anger, and our shortcomings instead of pretending they don’t exist, then maybe we’ll leave the world a better place than we found it."
— Russell Wilson
Nervous. Anxious. Unsure. Scared. Embarrassed.
The waiting room had the sounds and smells like that of a spa, but I was anything but relaxed. In the few minutes I sat waiting, I contemplated jumping up and running out of there as fast as I could so many times.
"Do I really need to be here? Is this truly necessary? I mean, no one's making me be here, so I should just go."
At that moment, a lovely woman with the warmest expression opened the door and gently called my name. I somehow managed to gather myself up and cross the hall into her office and onto the couch.
You see, I had been contemplating therapy for years but had always come to the conclusion that all-in-all, I was okay. In my mind, there was no super-traumatic experience...no devastating loss...no abuse...which I interpreted as "okay." It almost felt silly to me the idea of seeing a therapist—not because I haven't had my fair share of sadness and loss (I have) or that I don't think mental health is incredibly important (I do), but because I never saw my problems or issues or feelings as "that bad." I essentially had what I like to call the "Kourtney Kardashian mentality"—as in when it comes to the rest of the world's problems, mine sort of pale in comparison.
But after years of encouragement from one of my best friends and some recent "ah-ha" moments, I decided to finally take the leap, and here I was.
I had no idea what to expect. We started out making small talk—standard get-to-know-you chitchat and comments about the weather. Then it started to get real: she asked me about my goals and what I wanted to achieve through our time together, and I started to feel the panic set in.
I had filled out a form previous to our meeting that asked that question, and I had written down some fairly vague answers: "Better my relationships" ... "Process my feelings in a healthier way"...etc. But I hadn't really considered why I was going or what I was wanting to get out of it in the end. Again, I thought I was "okay" and my life was "okay" and everything was pretty much "okay," but then I opened my mouth to answer, and it happened...word vomit. I honestly couldn't even tell you what I said if I wanted to. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience, spewing all of these feelings and tears onto this poor woman. It was like a switch had been flipped inside of me, and I couldn't turn it off.
After rambling on for what seemed like hours, she kindly informed me that our time was up, but that she would like to see me again...once a week for the next few months. I stood there half-stunned, half-confused. I smiled and nodded as she discussed available dates, but in my head, I kept repeating, "But I'm okay...I'm okay...I'm okay...??"
I stood up, gave her a half-hearted "thank you", and walked out of the door to my car. I sat there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened when I suddenly felt this wave come over me—and I let out the most guttural, cathartic scream I have ever heard, much less produced, followed by uncontrollable sobbing. And that's when I knew...
I. was. not. o. kay.
So I went back, and week after week—slowly but surely—I could feel things shifting. And then, just a few weeks ago, I had a major breakthrough: it turns out the awful thoughts and feelings I had been experiencing most of my life that I had chalked up to as "normal" were in fact quite the opposite. Stress, work, politics, #life—albeit contributors—were actually not the cause of the moderate/severe progression of these thoughts and feelings in recent years.
Turns out I have severe anxiety.
Now, younger Lisa would have immediately thrown her defenses up, argued her case, and found every excuse to explain away the notion that there may be something "wrong" with her...that she wasn't "okay." But not now. In that moment, I felt this enormous weight lift, and I cried at its release—but these tears were different. These were tears of relief...relief in finally putting a name to the cause of the negative thoughts and feelings that I had accumulated and which had plagued me for so, so long. In a sense, it felt...freeing...
Because it's only when you can identify an issue—whether it be with your physical health, a relationship, or your mental health—that you can truly begin the process of healing it.
It has now been 120 days since I started my journey to better mental health, and I still have such a long way to go. It has been hard and, at times, downright painful. But my only regret thus far is that I didn't seek help sooner. I write this not only as a way to externally process my feelings or because it is #MentalHealthAwarenessMonth, but also as an encouragement to anyone out there to not suffer in silence. Your feelings and experiences are valid. Full stop.
It's okay not to be okay...but it's not okay to not live your life as fully, beautifully, and freely as you deserve. And I wish nothing less than that for myself...and for you.
Just Say "Yes"
“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”
— Dale Carnegie
Yesterday's MY BODY, MY CHOICE rally was brimming with so many emotions: anger, excitement, fear, courage, frustration, hope. So many amazing people of all genders, races, religions, ages, identities, backgrounds, cultures, and walks of life showed up at Butler Green to have their voices heard and to stand in solidarity with one another—friends and strangers alike—and it was truly a thing of beauty.I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to speak at this event. And although I still hold the same beliefs on this issue today that I have my whole life, 10 years ago...5 years ago...hell, 2 years ago, I would have never had the courage to speak publicly like this. (Fun fact: I would have failed my public speaking class in college if it hadn't been for A) it being a summer class; B) my professor's pity.) But when asked, I said "yes"...because saying "yes" has been what has gotten me to where I am today.Before 2017, I had zero political background, zero political experience, zero political education. I had no reason to believe that there was a place for me in this world or that I had anything to contribute to it. But I was lucky to have amazing people believe in me, and when opportunities presented themselves, I then had the audacity to believe in myself and say "yes."I say all this to tell you that not only are politics vital to all of us, but also there is a place for you, too, in this realm—there is a place for all of us. And there needs to be. It doesn't matter your age or experience or where you come from or your level of education—your perspective and ideas and voice are needed and necessary.And that was the message I wanted to convey yesterday—one that would encourage you to also step outside of your comfort zone and find ways to get involved. Because you have it in you and the opportunities are there...you just have to say "yes."
Below is the text of MY SPEECH, as well as links to local/statewide progressive political organizations to help you find your place and how you can get involved.
"Today we’re going to be hearing from some incredible advocates and activists, but I’m here to talk to you all about the political aspect. Now, I don’t want to stand up here and bore you with a bunch of numbers and data—that’s not my style—but I have to cite these very important ones: The female population in AL: 51%Do you know what the percentage is of female members of the AL House? 17%And the percentage of the female members of the AL Senate? 11% Just think about that for a second: 51% population, but only 17% and 11% representation. Advocacy for reproductive rights is incredibly vital—but so is supporting and electing candidates who will listen to those advocates and implement the policies that will support reproductive rights. This means supporting PROGRESSIVE candidates. And more specifically, supporting progressive FEMALE candidates. And even more specifically, supporting MARGINALIZED female progressive candidates. We saw a huge rise nationwide in progressives, women, women of color, and LGBTQ+ persons running for office last year. And here in Alabama, we, too, saw a rise in progressive, women, and women of color candidates running for office—locally and statewide. I was actually lucky enough to act as the campaign manager for the amazing Amy Wasyluka’s State Senate campaign. And the data shows that in a community when women are uplifted and empowered, the community as a whole thrives. And when progressive women are elected to office, they put forward and support legislation that supports and protects women. If I could encourage you to do anything today, it would be to not let the fear of not knowing about politics keep you from getting involved. I promise you—no one knew less about politics than I did 2½ years ago. You don’t have to come from a family of politicians or have a degree in Political Science to be involved in politics, you just have to be a citizen of the world who cares about what’s going on in your community and a desire to make a difference. And there are SO many ways to get involved: You could run for office, or encourage a friend to run. If running for office isn’t an option, then find a candidate you support and volunteer for them. Get involved with a local political or activist organization. Support organizations like Persistence PAC and Emerge AL who are doing work to financially support and train progressive female candidates here in Alabama. Call, write, or meet with your representatives to let them know where you stand on this issue and hold them accountable. Remember: they. work. for. you. Talk to your family, friends, neighbors, coworkers about the issues you care about—like reproductive rights—and use your personal relationships and experiences to help them understand why it’s so critical and why they should support candidates who also find it critical. Make sure that you and everyone you know is registered. to. vote. Whether big or small, we all have a place in politics and a role to play—there is a place for you—you just have to show up. In closing, I want to leave you with this: Regardless of how messy and frustrating and overwhelming as it can be, we no longer have the luxury to not care when it comes to politics. Elections have consequences, and the passing of this abortion ban is proof of that. So I urge you, when you go home today—go home with a sense of hope, but also with a sense of purpose...go home feeling inspired, but also empowered to be the change...go home angry, but also with a plan of action. But please, PLEASE...do not just go home. Because hope and inspiration and anger without action is just that. Today we have proven in the most spectacular way what a group of empowered women and allies with a sense of purpose and a plan of action can do in a very short amount of time. We can be the difference—and if we keep fighting the good fight—we most certainly will be. Thank you."
(Originally published May 20, 2019)
Finding My Voice in the Perfect Storm
"Let us have faith in each other. Let us not grow weary. Let us not lose heart. For there are more seasons to come...and more work to do." — Hillary R. Clinton
It's been one year. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 525,600 minutes. And when I think back on this time last year, those visceral feelings come rushing right back as though it were yesterday... The panic. The disbelief. The anger. The sorrow. I got caught in a tailspin of emotions and was left feeling hopeless.And then came the phone call from my grandmother—words which I will carry with me for the rest of my life: "Honey, I know you're sad. We all are. But you're only allowed to be sad for so long...then you have to do something. So what are you going to do?" I knew she was right...but I didn't have an answer. I had just turned 30 years old, and I had never been politically active in my life, nor did I know anyone who was. So I made the typical Millennial move—#GoogleIt—and there it was: Madison County Democratic Women. And that's where it all began...
Before I knew it, I was being embraced by this force and found myself saying "Yes!" to everything. I was busy—I joined several organizations and multiple committees. I was meeting people—I met so many people from different backgrounds and generations and walks of life that I probably never would have otherwise met. I was doing things I had never fathomed I would do—I marched. I protested. I put signs in my yard and magnets on my car and dedicated a portion of my closet to statement tees. I was feeling that force become a part of me...or was I becoming a part of it?
As I reflect back on this past year, it was most certainly a whirlwind. It was at times frustrating and stressful and even down-right maddening. But there were many more moments that were educational and inspiring and, honestly, just a whole lot of fun. I learned so much about the world and myself this year...from complacency and advocacy to apathy and empathy. I got to hear from people I greatly admire and even meet some of them. And I have formed some of the greatest friendships that I know I will cherish all the days of my life.
And in that reflection, I can't help but think about all the things that had to happen to get me to where I am today...to this very moment—from moving back home to work flexibility to the (hellacious) election to joining the right groups with the right people at the right time. You see, I had always had thoughts and opinions and ideas about the world and politics—but it wasn't until this perfect storm that I truly found my voice to put thoughts to words, and in turn, those words to action...
And I am then left wondering: "Is this a new version of myself that I have become?" or "Has this always been a part of me that I've just been too afraid to embrace?" Perhaps it's a little bit of both, but that doesn't really matter. What I do know and what does matter is that those feelings I was so deeply consumed by this time last year have been replaced with: panicCalm. disbeliefBelief. angerPassion. sorrowHope. Whether it was there all along or a recent discovery, I am better now than I was then. I still have so much more to learn and to do, but I am hopeful for the future and excited for this new season of my life.
I would encourage anyone reading this to not wait for some catastrophic occurrence to start caring or speaking out or doing something to better the world around you, but if it does—always keep your eyes, ears, heart, and mind open. Because who knows...you may one day find yourself caught up in your own perfect storm, and you don't want to miss your shot to find the voice you never knew you had. Now that I have found my voice, I don't plan on being quiet anytime soon...or throwing away my shot...
"...I’m past patiently waitin’ // I’m passionately // Smashin’ every expectation // Every action’s an act of creation! // I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow // For the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow // And I am not throwin' away my shot...”
— Hamilton: An American Musical
(Originally published November 15, 2017)
I Can't Keep Quiet
"I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't."
— Audre Lorde
Let me start by clarifying something...
FEMINISM:
(n.) fem·i·nism \ˈfe-mə-ˌni-zəm\ 1) the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes; 2) organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests.
Ok, now that we've cleared that up...
Regardless of your personal feelings, this past weekend's Women's March was a historic HERstoric day—millions of women (and men) gathered together in solidarity across the nation AND world with the main focus being love, equality, and a willingness to stand up for what is right. I was fortunate to be a part of this beautiful movement, and I came home with this incredible high of empowerment and hope for a better tomorrow. And then, as it tends to do, reality set in.
I scrolled through my social media pages that were (gloriously) flooded with positive photos, articles, and stories about the Women's March on Washington and all of its sister cities...that was then abruptly and brutally cut by anti-March posts. I gasped. I couldn't wrap my mind around the concept of someone being AGAINST this movement—a peaceful, inclusive movement—especially those who were women.
.Why?! How?!
I could feel this tinge in my heart reading these words of disgust and disapproval. Questions began to swirl in my mind: "Do they not understand what this was about? That it wasn't ONLY about women, but also rights for LGBTQ+, immigrants, Muslims, working-class, poor, education, and the environment?? Do they not know the difference between 'whining' and 'activism'???"
With all of these thoughts bouncing around in my head, I decided to take the time to read and re-read these negative posts in order to gain some sort of perspective as to where these comments were coming from. I had to keep in mind that these people have the same right to an opinion and a voice that I do, and they, too, deserved to be heard. And after careful review and quite a bit of processing and reflection, this is my personal observation and understanding as to why these people feel that the Marches are wrong/unnecessary/anti-men/whining/pointless/etc.:
These individuals do not feel that they are victims and/or have not been victimized. These individuals feel that they are equal in every way. These individuals do not feel that any of their rights or freedoms are being threatened. These individuals feel respected as men/women and humans. These individuals have never felt discriminated against or marginalized. These individuals have never felt like second-class citizens. These individuals feel that because Americans by birth are given more freedoms than those of other countries, that should be enough. These individuals don't believe climate change is a pressing issue. These individuals are more concerned with economic issues than social issues.
Notice I did not say, "Those who didn't participate in or support the March are sexist, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, gun-toting, woman-hating, anti-feminists!" Because they are not one and the same. Just as those who did participate in these Marches aren't "men-hating, police-degrading, gay-agenda-pushing, handout-taking, godless baby-killing socialists" (to put it lightly, just based on things I've read). The main problem on this one particular matter isn't that one side is "bad" or "wrong"...the problem is that we don't understand each other.
If you are anti-March, I do not hold any ill will towards you—because I know the root of why is that you don't understand it. If you can relate/identify with the paragraph above, then I truly and sincerely congratulate you. I wish there were more people who felt the way you do. But unfortunately, there are not.
In fact, there are far too many who have felt victimized, discriminated against, threatened to have their rights and freedoms taken away, scared for their future/the future of their children/the future of the planet, and harassed solely for loving who they love or being who they are.
And with an administration that has built its platform on these very fears, the gesture had to be BIG and it had to be NOW.
And honestly, I myself identify with a few of those statements—as a straight, white, cisgender, middle-class, educated, American-born woman, that is part of my privilege. And there is nothing wrong with being born privileged (I repeat, there is nothing wrong with being born white/Christian/straight/American/privileged/etc.), as it cannot be helped...just as it cannot be helped to be born less privileged. The privilege itself is not what matters—what matters is what you DO with that privilege. And by that, I mean you essentially have two options:
1) you can use your privilege to help those less fortunate; or
2) you can live life under the motto: "If it's not a problem for me, then it's not a problem."
If you fall under the first category, then I think we're good here. If you fall in or around #2, then Imma need you to have several seats and listen up...
I get it. Truly, I do. Because I used to be like you: I used to live in my own little world and worry only about myself and those closest to me. "Racism isn't a thing anymore, right? I mean, I'M not racist, and I've never really experienced anyone else being racist. So...everything must be cool on that front."
And yet, I've never seen a million dollars in my life, but I'm pretty sure it's safe to say millionaires do exist. Let me put it to you this way... "OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND" DOES NOT APPLY HERE.
Just because you haven't personally experienced something, doesn't mean that it's not happening around you or that it's not a problem.
Have I personally experienced racism? No. But I have seen it firsthand and have had African-American friends tell me horror stories of situations that they have endured. Am I personally worried about having my marriage rights revoked? No. But I do worry that my best friend may lose his right to marry the man of his dreams. Do I personally fear being shipped off to another country? No. But I do fear for my friends who may have been born here, but risk losing their parents to deportation. I finally had my "wake up call"—hopefully this can help serve as yours.
Although there are things that I selfishly fear for myself (women's health, education, equal pay, etc.), this March was never about me...or you for that matter. This was about something far bigger than myself or any one person. This was about walking the walk. This was about taking a stand for something I have always believed in, but was either too apathetic or too afraid to speak up. But then I realized that feeling compassion and empathy is only half the battle—you also have to SHOW it. I know the world can be a scary place that can cause you to become cynical. And I know it's so much easier to sit in the comfort of your home behind your keyboard and criticize those who are actively trying to make a difference. But if you TRULY want this country to be great, you have to put in the work. You have to be willing to look past your front door, get out into the world, talk to people who aren't like you, and put out what you hope to receive.
These past few months have shaken me to my very core, and I have decided that I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change...but I am going to change the things I can no longer accept.
I cannot accept injustice—and I won't. I cannot accept inequality—and I won't. I cannot accept hate speech—and I won't. I cannot accept "alternative facts"—and I won't. I cannot keep quiet—and I won't.
(Originally published January 23, 2017)
No Dress Code Required
"She is clothed in strength and dignity and laughs without fear of the future."
— Proverbs 31:25
I'm not usually one for "social media rants/posts," so I decided to take my views to the blogosphere (also because who wants to read a 3 page-long Facebook post? *eye roll*). But I read an article this morning that really resonated with me, as it is an issue I have felt very strongly about since I was a young teen. And although I highly disagree with most of the views within the article (Ms. Erykah Badu's, to be exact), I do agree that it is a topic that deserves more conversation among ourselves as adults and with our children/youth in general.
Let me start by saying as I am not a perfect adult, I was also not a perfect child/teenager/etc. But as a teenager, I have to say I wasn't too bad, generally speaking. I was an athlete, I had a good group of friends, I was involved in several school organizations, I made good grades, and I rarely got into trouble. But the few times I remember getting into trouble at school was always for...my attire. Either my shorts were "too short", a sliver of my mid-drift would show if I reached over my head, or the straps of my shirt were "too narrow". Several times my mom would have to leave work to bring me clothes to change into, or I would be forced to wear my sweaty gym shirt for the remainder of the day. I would ask the teachers, and even the principal, why this was made such a big deal, and all they could tell me was, "Those are just the rules." When I posed the same question to my mom, she basically said, "I guess it's because they feel it could be 'too distracting’ to the boys in class." And my immediate reaction was: "Well, shouldn't that be THEIR problem, not mine?"
And shouldn't it be? Why does society feel it is our responsibility as females to "protect" males from their own "lustful desires"? Instead of talking to our young men and raising them in such a way to see women as more than sexual objects, we find it more appropriate to throw blankets over our young women and shove them into these "appropriate boxes" filled with shame, insecurity, and self-deprecation. In 2016, doesn't that seem like such an archaic ideology?
Some people may argue (as Ms. Badu does throughout the article) that it is more so to "protect our youth," but again, I disagree with this point. Because in my experience, it had an adverse effect on me. Although these instances initially made me feel ashamed and guilty, those feelings would later shift into feelings of hyper-sexualization, as though that were my main purpose on this earth—to attract male attention. And if I didn't do that, well then I must not be "worthy" or "woman enough." Basically, my thirteen-year-old thought process was, "Oh, so boys are only looking at me and being nice to me because they find me physically attractive? And even more so if I wear some clothes that are a little more revealing?? And so if I ever want a boyfriend, this is how I need to dress and act in order to get a boy to like me??? I can do that!" (Poor, poor little thirteen-year-old Lisa...)
But this is the message we are sending to our daughters and sisters and nieces—by doing this, we are saying to them, "YOUR identity is mostly based on your physical appearance and sexuality and YOU are the problem and it is YOUR responsibility!" Instead of empowering our young women by teaching them to use their brains, to know their worth, and to own their sexuality, we are perpetuating the idea that a female is not only defined by her outward appearance, but she should also tailor that appearance to society's views of what is deemed "appropriate" or "fitting". We are living in an age of Beyoncés and Hillarys and Oprahs, where women are finally coming to the forefront in all different fields and female empowerment is a growing movement...and then here we are taking 12 steps back by telling our young women, "You can do anything and be anything in this world—as long as you dress appropriately and don't distract the boys in the process."
It wasn't until my mid-20's that I finally had a breakthrough and was able to break away from these imposed notions. If I wanted to wear a pencil skirt with a silk blouse and heels to work, it wasn't to impress my boss. If I wanted to wear a form-fitting dress and some lipstick for a night out, it wasn't to attract a man. I wore it because I liked it...because it made me feel good...because it expressed my personality and mood at that moment. The clothes didn't change—my attitude and perspective did. It took me 25+ years to finally take back and own my sexuality and cultivate my identity as a woman. I am still a work in progress and learning every day, but I can at least say that I love myself, unabashedly and unapologetically.
And don't you want that for your daughter...for your sister...for your niece…for yourself? I know I do. And whether it's my teenage sisters or (God willing) my future daughter, I want them to grow up in a world where they don't feel defined by the bearing of their shoulders or the hemline of their skirts. I want them to be able to look at themselves in the mirror and love themselves for their thoughts, their talents, their aspirations, their hearts, their compassion, and yes—even their bodies. I want them to focus on their goals and dreams and desires...not what others' opinions or perceptions of them may be. I never want them to ever feel as though they need to cover themselves up or dumb themselves down for anything or anyone. That's the world I wish for more than anything for these young women in our world and for those to come—freedom to explore and express all parts of themselves without hesitation or fear of judgment.
That is the future I pray for. For my sisters and my nieces and my cousins and my future daughter—and for yours. But again, it is not only up to us to empower our young women, but also it is our responsibility to educate our young men on how to respect themselves and young women. So let's make sure we're doing our part to make a better future for our youth—no dress code required.
(Originally published April 12, 2016)