How I “Woke” Up
Ever since January 6, 2021, more people are paying attention to politics (or whatever you want to call the shit-show the RWNJ party is running). At least I am, for two big reasons, one fundamental and one highly personal.
On January 6, 2021, I was three weeks post-surgery following a discectomy and fusion at C5-6 and C6-7 (yes, only I could have discs decide to protrude and try paralyzing me at the height of the pandemic). I also had a broken shoulder from a fall a week after surgery. Needless to say, I was dopey from the meds as I sat there in my cervical collar and shoulder brace watching the attack on our nation’s Capitol. I was in such a dream state that I called my best friend and asked her if what I was seeing was real. Her succinct response was, “Sadly, yes.” That is my fundamental reason.
Now, at this same time, my Dad was in a hospital in San Antonio, TX fighting for his life against Covid. He showed symptoms on Christmas Eve and was intubated on New Year’s Eve. My Dad, who was a Union guy when I was growing up; who encouraged my liberal leanings from an early age; who would get me to debate him to hone my skills at intelligent discourse; and who would tell me I could be the first female President if I wanted; my Dad became a product of his environment. After my parents divorced, my Dad moved around the country for work. He was a Quality Control consultant, and companies in decline would bring him in to improve production, employee morale, and management practices. He lived in Arkansas, Wisconsin, Georgia, Oklahoma and ended up in Texas.
And that’s where he changed, politically. He was never full-blown MAGA – he didn’t fall in with the ugly memes saying VP Harris “slept her way” to office. He didn’t hurl insults online. Hell, he didn’t even agree with the GOP on anything other than the economy. He was pro-choice, pro-woman, had no problem whatsoever with the LGBTQ+ community. It was all about Trump being a “tell it like it is” businessman who wouldn’t take any shit. The successful, non-politician, tough-guy from New York was exactly what my Dad thought this country needed. Dad was a Trumper – he voted for him twice, he had signed pictures and a “membership” into some scamming “Trump Presidential Voter Recognition club”. (My brother put these items in with my Dad’s other possessions. I promptly burned them in a small cleansing ceremony. It was very cathartic). He was a huge fan, but not a cultist. (I’d like to think, had he survived, Dad would’ve opened his eyes to the incompetence and hypocrisy of Donald John Trump, but who knows? My brother and I would have continued to try and open his eyes). My Dad also believed Trump’s Covid lies and subscribed to his stance on not masking and not distancing.
My prevailing thoughts as I watched the horror of that day fluctuated between many things. I went from being glad that Dad couldn’t see what was happening, to wishing he could see it, because it would’ve horrified him. My most prevailing thought, strong through the haze of pain meds, pain the meds didn’t really help, and pain at what I was seeing, was “I need to do something.” I had no idea what, but I wanted to do something. I figured I would figure it out during my long convalescence at home.
Dad died, alone in a hospital in Texas, on January 9, 2021. And that is my personal reason.
All of that to explain how I “woke” up and started REALLY paying attention. Trump is guilty of negligent homicide in every Covid death that occurred under his watch. Inject bleach…what a stupid dick. But I digress…
I thought I was well-informed before. I paid attention to the news, I watched Presidential debates, I did rudimentary research on the candidates. Basically, I was like everyone else. I knew who my elected officials were. I didn’t know who the Representative from Georgia was. I didn’t know any Senators but the ones from my state. Following that awful, horrible January of 2021, I started to be more observant to the crazy that has enveloped some in the Republican party and the sane people on both sides trying to staunch the flow of insanity. I became more active in my local Democratic party. I have collected signatures for candidates. I monitor legislation going through the State legislature and county and local councils. It isn’t hyperbole to say our democracy is in danger.
And I am in this fight to save it.
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