The alarm clock was set for 6:30 am. I was planning to get up and watch Hillary Clinton’s acceptance speech. At 5:30, my mother woke me up: “You better come have a look. It’s not good.” I bolted out of bed and sat in disbelief until I could muster the strength to make coffee.
I never took into consideration this could happen. Not for a second. I had faith in America – how naive of me.
My stepson texts me “I am scared”. He is white and somewhat privileged.
My country has spoken and is telling us that a black president needs to be wiped off the map. That a woman cannot aspire to the highest elected office. That my Latino friends don’t matter and are not welcome. That stopping at the headlines is enough information to go by.
That it is acceptable to have a groper in chief. That climate change never happened.
Mostly, I am upset that a large part of the country that seemed to have opened up to minorities has come out of the closet, emboldened, and revealed nothing but bigotry and racism. As sofa girl says: humanity has not moved forward.
Friends are texting me from Los Angeles in equal disbelief, in tears, because we cannot see a pathway to sanity for the next four years.
Today, on a cold and gray Italian dawn, I am profoundly ashamed to be an American.
The only upside is that California has legalized marijuana – at least, I can smoke myself into oblivion for the next four years. And plot a Californian secession.