My Weekend Presidential Crush

This is, as you all know, a gay pop culture blog. Duh. I write about the effervescent fluff that makes life fun, because who doesn’t like having fun? But as a queer person of color, politics is always personal – as I know it is for so many of you. So I have also written about every presidential election since this blog started – wayyy back in 2006.

Remember 2006? Before Obama. Before Hillary. Before Trump. And I’ve been unabashedly liberal, progressive, whatever you want to call it since this blog started. Heck, I’d say I’ve gotten more liberal as I’ve aged – to defy the getting more conservative as we age stereotypes. This Gen Xer is no Boomer, dammit.

I think this is because with each passing election, it feels like the stakes keep going up. The differences between the choices become more stark – more dangerous, more destructive, more divisive. So much so that we’ve gotten to the point where democracy is, legitimately, on the ballot. Someone who says he wants to be a dictator on “day one” and says vote this once and we’ll “fix it” so you never have to vote again is no small threat to our life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.

So, I dreaded this election. I, like so many others, continue to have PTSD from 2016. And, up until late July, it felt like it was all slipping away again. A second Trump presidency felt almost inevitable. I renewed my passport. I kept reminding myself that lots of people around the world live under fascism and authoritarianism. It would be awful, it would be painful, but maybe we could survive it – maybe. I even started to mentally prepare myself for the possibility of not seeing progress on civil rights in our nation for decades, possibly longer. Possibly for the rest of my lifetime.

It felt like election night Nov. 8, 2016 all over again. I remember the next day writing that the America I believed in did not exist. And, for a while, it didn’t.

But, whew, what a difference a Kamala makes. Now, instead of the existential dread of a wanna-be-dictator running our country, I am filling the giddy excitement at the possibility of America’s first female president, first Black and South Asian president. The possibility of, yes, hope. And the realization that there have always been more decent, rational, welcoming and inclusive Americans who care about their neighbors and communities than angry, spiteful, fearful hatemongers. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve got plenty of those too. But, essentially, we are a people who want to be seen as, and do, good.

While we don’t always live up to our better angels, we have indeed made great progress. We’re still not that more perfect union, and who knows if we’ll ever be. But as long as we keep striving, keep fighting, maybe we’ll get there one day.

I think the great lesson on Kamala Harris’s candidacy is that we should dream bigger. No more we can’ts because (x, y and z). No more, but will people vote for a (fill in the Black). Because, yes, we can. We can elect the first woman president. We can elect the first Black and Asian woman president. We can do better. We can fight for better. We can defeat Trumpism, once and for all. We can demand a better future, because we deserve it.

I know Vice President Harris isn’t perfect. (Hello, neither is Bette Porter – ahem.) But I believe she is a decent, rational, welcoming and inclusive American who cares about us, our neighbors and our communities. And I believe if we work hard, talk with our friends and families, and continue to fight for what is right, on Nov. 5 we will write a new, better chapter for the history of our country together. Now wouldn’t that be truly great. Happy let's fucking win this thing weekend, America.