Bereft of Summer

America’s season of collective mourning and what comes next.

Where had I heard this wind before

Change like this to a deeper roar?

What would it take my standing there for,

Holding open a restive door,

Looking down hill to a frothy shore?

Summer was past and the day was past.

Sombre clouds in the west were massed.

— (section of) Bereft by Robert Frost

“Complicated Grief” is an understatement.

In early Spring, overnight as losses piled up, grief set in. We had hoped summer would bring respite. We would finally be outside, together. Instead of ease, the need for distance remains, adding complexity to everyday tasks.

The sun may be out, but most Americans are struggling. With rising heat came rising cases. Losing out on “summer” (though no small thing) pales in comparison to losing lives. A cacophony of crises caused more deaths, (global warming, police brutality, systemic racism, domestic violence).

As Kamala Harris broke through the glass ceiling, she echoed our grief. In her VP acceptance speech at the DNC, she noted,

“[And] we are a nation that’s grieving. Grieving the loss of life, the loss of jobs, the loss of opportunities, the loss of normalcy. And yes, the loss of certainty.

And while this virus touches us all, let’s be honest, it is not an equal opportunity offender. Black, Latino and Indigenous people are suffering and dying disproportionately. This is not a coincidence. It is the effect of structural racism.”

The curve goes up; evictions and job losses follow. Black Americans, disproportionately impacted by all of these crises, march for their lives. A few state and city governments declared racism a public health crisis.

The U.S. government, instead, vilifies communities standing up for justice.

“Antifa” has taken hold to describe the dissenters. Those against fascism are now labeled enemies of the U.S. government. The response to protesters’ continued push for equality? FEDs were sent to Portland to quell the “violence”.

As we mourn rational thought, some need to laugh. Most of us want to cry. It’s unreal.

What is real?

• Portland continues to stand for Black Lives Matter.
• Media continues to demonize citizens as rioters.
• Violence was used on protesters before Federal troops gassed ordinary citizens. And, it has remained violent since the FEDs left.
• In Portland, the number of injuries to “peacekeepers” is fabricated, at best.
• Tear gas may be deterring women from protests, as reports the gas caused irregular menstruation and spotting.
• The dangers and use of CS gas in Portland was previously well documented in a 35 page report released by Don’t Shoot PDX in June.
• During Senate hearings, documented attacks by CPB and DHS on Oregonians were ignored by GOP senators.
• A federal lawyer tried to delineate between White Supremacy groups, just as Trump did after Charlottesville.

Unlike Cruz’s law buddy, Oregon’s Senators (thankfully) don’t delineate between White Supremacist hate groups that are anti-government versus those that are just, um, regular old Nazis.

We know who is killing who. The Library of Congress does too.

There is no quick cure for racism, no medicine for hatred. If there were, would children still be caged in this country?

There is danger in this continued grieving.

“When people get stuck indefinitely in grieving, preventing them from processing the death and moving on with life, a condition known as complicated grief (CG) may eventually arise (2). CG is a chronic, impairing form of grief, distinctive from depression and post-traumatic stress disorder and other conditions…”

We look forward to grieving someone’s lost life without a hashtag. Hashtags should be saved for funny, joyous moments like #hotgirlsummer, not #arrestthecopsthatkilledbreonnataylor.

At the DNC, Jill Biden summed up our pains well.

“The despair in the lines that stretch out before food banks. And the indescribable sorrow that follows every lonely last breath when the ventilators turn off. As a mother and a grandmother, as an American, I am heartbroken by the magnitude of this loss, by the failure to protect our communities, by every precious and irreplaceable life gone.”

White supremacy continues to kill. This summer, since George Floyd’s death on May 25th, 70,000 more Americans died from Covid-19.

On top of real, profound losses, the loss of actual life is not the only thing we mourn. June’s year-end celebrations and graduations were canceled, ushering more tears from parents and children.

Women mourn the little progress, the small milestones, towards parity we had achieved. We miss “self-care”, date nights, and greetings with hugs. We sob for lost friendships, forged over decades and lost in a matter of months.

We mourn the loss of the life we would live once “quarantine was over.” This summer we hoped would be our much-needed break from reality is dying quickly too. We should have emerged from homes and offices, ready to live it up.

We mourn the loss of the lives we pictured for our kids. We mourn the days of city pools and BBQ’s, and a summer where days run together…yet it’s almost September. Here we go again. After 6+ months at home, we head “back to school” while standing still.

Our hope to resume some semblance of normalcy was a pipe dream. We knew that, even as we wished on a star in the clear summer sky. Since “normal” was only ever good for some, we count our once-hidden blessings. The band-aid came off and all our wounds were laid bare.

We must find ways to process each loss, and somehow move on. If not, the grief, like everything else that plagues us right now, will become like an open wound, taking decades to heal.

The only way forward is together.

The Grief of a Union

In many ways, our grief in the United States is singular. The hits to our vessel keep coming, one wave after another. With each crash, more leaks; the gaps are getting worse.

Racialized wealth and wage gaps are growing. We may wipe out a generation of progress for women. We read over and over: American women bear the brunt of this crisis. Black and Brown women are hurt the most. Don’t forget women! Don’t forget poor people! Remember this crisis impacts marginalized people more!

Who needs reminders? We need help, fast. The reality is, without school, American mothers are forced to quit careers and close businesses. What challenges will women face attempting to re-enter the workforce when this is over? All we can do is curse under their breath, as we pick up more invisible labor.

We still grieve the losses of qualified, progressive Presidential candidates, especially women. The relief that one Black woman made history is still tenuous. Will the country realize women, immigrants, Black people, and indigenous people are worth their vote?

Kamala Harris is our hope to heal. The solidarity of global Black Lives Matter marches aids that hope. And, should Biden and Harris become elected, that could leave the Senate without a Black woman. (California’s governor would fill the resulting vacancy until the 2022 election.)

After impeachment, countless illegal acts, blocked investigations, unstable, hate-filled, tweets, and tax evasion, somehow, #45 remains in office. We mourn the sacred office of the Presidency. We mourn the system of checks and balances that leaves Trump unchecked.

In Portland, and across the country, journalists are arrested, harassed, and targeted. One journalist was blinded, when a group of cops milling about decided to shoot at her camera. Subversive removals and “editors and others [are] beginning to act out of fear, and self-censoring” at the Voice of the Nation will aid in another loss: our free press.

I grew up in Gen X, believing America was the strongest, most democratic, and giving nation on Earth. Now, the world watches in abject horror at our“curve”, bearing witness to our solitary bereavement.

Canada’s Prime Minister, left speechless, said it all. We have fallen in the eyes of the world, but the world is also rooting for us. Foreign onlookers echo an obvious and epic failure to address any of our national crises.

Americans watch other countries with competent leaders, (mostly women), who managed to control the virus. We sigh the way a child would when they’ve lost their favorite caregiver. We hang our heads in sorrow and disbelief, bereft at the failed promise of the American dream.

The promise of our nation as shelter from the tempest fades. We grieve the wave of deaths. We stand in an ocean of grief, trying to grasp how vast it is. Like surf skimming our feet, we come right up to its edge. Who will be next?

Seek justice. Seek joy.

In America, the reckoning is real. Our country forever changed–moves towards racial justice and reparations. We must swim on, or drown. There is no going back.

We can never replace the lost lives, but we can push through, to heal our past.

“…a movement striving to recognize and repair the wounds of racial injustice, colonization, misogyny, and homophobia, and to propose and build reimagined systems of immigration and foreign policy that turn away from the violence and xenophobia of our past…”-Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

Left with only hard choices, we have limited options. Instead of “the lesser of two evils” we must choose whatever brings us closest to a life worth living.

School in masks with increased illnesses vs. homeschool on zoom, physically healthy, but isolated? A man responsible for racist policies that created a prison pipeline vs. the man responsible for its continued expansion.

The “Anticipatory Grief” of voting in November is palpable.

On life support since impeachment, we hold out hope for our country. We hope election interference doesn’t pull the plug.

Will the election help our sick, divided, fractured, nation? Can it when 50% of the country today supports a bigot, science-denier, and misogynist? Will we quietly march in a funeral procession for this democracy once and for all? Or will we celebrate our rebirth?

“Yes, so many classrooms are quiet right now. The playgrounds are still. But if you listen closely, you can hear the sparks of change in the air. Across the country, educators, parents, first responders, Americans of all walks of life are putting their shoulders back, fighting for each other. We haven’t given up. We just need leadership worthy of our nation. Worthy of you.”

If Kamala’s speech was the obit, (ba-bye Trump), Jill Biden’s speech was the eulogy. To put an end to this dystopian era, we do need better leaders who stand with us. We do not need self-proclaimed saviors. Through dark times, women in leadership have guided us forward.

“And these women inspired us to pick up the torch, and fight on. Women like Mary Church Terrell and Mary McCleod Bethune. Fannie Lou Hamer and Diane Nash. Constance Baker Motley and Shirley Chisholm.”–Kamala Harris

Change is coming. Our choices seem limited.

No one will “save us”–we just want to save ourselves. The fate and changes needed in America will not be decided by two men. To end our grief, we need a rebirth. A fresh start.

Letting go to rest, especially when change feels close, is tough. Fighting is a way to channel grief, but not sustainable 24/7. It will drown the changemaker before the tide has turned.

When the weight of things is simply too much, we need rest most. In times of profound loss and sadness, we must use other ways to cope. Stay healthy. Sleep when we can. Take time to process alone. And connect to talk it through with a trusted friend.

The good news is that people tend to be resilient in the face of grief. Once the immediate crisis has passed, people are usually able to reach a place of acceptance where they are able to adapt and find ways to cope with their loss.-Very Well Mind

We can find resilience in the face of all these losses. But these crises were not created in an instant. There will be no overnight solutions; there is no vaccine for racism, oppression, and tyranny.

While we wait for the hurt to end, we push through our grief. Too soon, summer will end. We must ration our energy to weather new storms.

Celebrating small wins is not always possible. When truly mourning, who can simply snap out of it? “Everything happens for a reason” or “It will get better” is not helpful. Who wants to feel placated when they are sad? Let’s do better for each other.

We need to come together, (even virtually), to support each other in any way we can. Solidarity comes in many forms, not just protesting, inhaling tear-gassed. Support can be found sitting quietly at a river’s edge, listening to a venting friend.

The best thing you can do for someone grieving: hold space, be present, simply be there. This is something we can do for each other. When one of us is down, hopefully, someone else can lift us up.

“We stay in this fight so that when our children and our grandchildren ask what we did during this dark chapter in our nation’s history, we will be able to look them squarely in the eye and say: we organized, we persisted, and we changed America.”–Elizabeth Warren

We remember why we cannot give up: our children.

But, what do we do now? The answers are right in front of us.

Women are watching out for America. Michelle, Kamala, Stacey, Elizabeth, Amy, Tammy, Karen, Hillary, Katie, Alexandria, Val. We will make it beyond these difficult times because they remember too.