I know that some of you hoped for the best. You saw this as the path most aligned with your values–for democracy, the economy, a soldier’s life, the unborn.
What grieves me most is that we–those who intersect every cultural group–from the entitled to the disenfranchised—were so dispensable–even among ourselves.
How is it that a culture disregards its life givers?
What are the consequences of that disregard?
Last week I sat in a women’s circle supporting the work of the United Nations 61st Commission on the Status of Women. The indigenous among us spoke on behalf of water–the waters of our nations/the waters of our wombs.
“A growing number of studies reveal that hundreds of toxic chemicals are present in a mother’s womb,” they said, “And subsequently in her newborn baby, and in the breast milk from which she nourishes life.”
I know that 3/4 of the population didn’t vote for this.
I know that more of us voted against it than for it.
I know that women (and men) throughout this country–and around the world–in unprecedented numbers and solidarity–wore pink to say:
WE STAND WITH THE FEMININE.
And still, my body aches, the earth aches, the waters ache, with the weight of this disregard.
It’s time for a cleanse.
Of the burden of the womb.
Of the body politic.
Of what it means to be an American.
Of what it means to share the earth as our home.
Yours in spring’s lightening,