It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

with a dash of hope

Um, yikes.

The election shock has faded into a simmering matriarchal rage—fearless and patient and calculating and vengeful and ready to defend the fucking planet.

But to protect my inner life, I’m only allowing politics in small weekly doses, enough to stay informed and defend democracy, but not so much that it can consume and fundamentally warp my deep sense of hope.

Because I still have hope despite the results.

Maybe you think that’s naive of me. That’s okay. Super normal response. But as a dystopian author, I don’t see hope as passive. Far from it.

Photo by N I F T Y A R T ✍🏻 on Unsplash

To hold on to hope right now isn’t easy. I know, it’s gotten heavier and unwieldy after that last emotional battle, and the temptation to toss it aside and scream and cry is real, and you should totally do that if you haven’t yet. But after, if you can manage to pick it back up and hold it in front of your chest like a shield, like a powerful Greek aegis—remember this:

Hope is an act of rebellion.

To maintain hope in yourself and cultivate it in others despite the chaos around you is the best way to inspire future change.

We need to “rage against the dying of the light” by refueling that light.

I still choose to believe the majority of the world wants to live in peace and fellowship. Yes, disenfranchised people have been fed a diet of unchecked, misinformation for years by others in power to manipulate them. As a teacher and the only person in my family to go to college, I see it everyday, the culture shift that mistakenly views competence as authoritarian and education as elitism.

But I still choose to believe that eventually, goodness will win, as long as we don’t let that goodness get warped by toxic anger and instead use healthy anger to ignite hope.

To combat toxic patriarchal energy, we need to activate and unleash true matriarchal energy, and it’s brimming to the surface if you haven’t felt the tremors. True matriarchal energy is a burning life force that desires to protect, nurture, and wield truth and justice to serve the planet. It is the phoenix rising from the ashes. It knows pain and suffering and transforms it into dreams. It aligns with true patriarchal energy (that isn’t toxic) and directs it, like a bow aims an arrow. It is people over profits. Authentic over artificial. Creative over destructive. It is caring about the environment and community (not to be confused with communism—how silly!). It is wise, instinctual, empathetic, spiritual, and absolutely relentless when you attack what it loves.

History begins now. The next generation needs us.

Pick up your shield with me.

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Photo by Seen on Unsplash

In my classes, not one high school student has brought up the election results in class. Not one. Out of 150 students.

It feels kind. Respectful. Like we all need a safe place to return to and be ourselves without the noise of the world.

Then we started the next unit: Elie Wiesel’s Holocaust memoir, Night.

This is why I teach.

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As the title of this blog post suggests, while the world seems tilted off its axis, that really cool thing that I’ve been vaguely posting about in my writing life? I signed a contract this week bringing it closer to reality.

I still can’t tell you what it is yet, but it’s SO GOOD. Too good. It’s weird to have something amazing to celebrate in my writing career at the same time as political upheaval, but hey, I can’t let the bastards bring me down. Instead, I’m gonna shine as bright as the sun and burn their retinas…(okay, that was a bit too aggressive with my word of the year!)

Keep planting seeds, folks. Create your art. Don’t let anyone steal your hope for a better tomorrow.