We’re still grieving. We’re still fragile. “We” are those who saw not just an election, but a dream break down.

I remember seeing Michelle Obama as a guest on a talk show, discussing how she knew Barack was ready to be president. She wasn’t sure that America was ready for him.

Well, Michelle, enough Americans were ready for Barack Obama that we elected him twice. Those who were not ready for him were, unfortunately, those in Congress. Their goals, dare I say it, their dreams were simple: block this guy’s agenda, no matter what.

I’m grieving because enough Americans were not ready for Hillary Clinton to break the glass ceiling. I’m grieving because the opponent, He Who Shall Not Yet Be Named, appealed to the lowest common denominator – the racist, the misogynist, the defiant and narrow-minded among us. Who would have guessed that so many voters fall into those categories?

The saddest part may be seeing that the glass ceiling still holds firm. That, my friends, is where dreams go to die. But this dream – the idea that the most intelligent and competent and experienced potential president should fail in the attempt? Langston Hughes said it best.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

I’m not ready to let go of the dream. I will grieve for Hillary Clinton, my idol for many, many years. I’ll grieve for the potential for our country under her leadership. This dream, the one that a qualified and amazing woman can become president, this dream can not die.

We’ll carry on. We aren’t likely to keep calm. This dream, that of a woman president, will not die with the election of 2016. I don’t know who will be next to have the courage to run, but I know that if she’s even close to Hillary’s knowledge and experience and greatness – dare I say it? I’ll be with her, too.

And I thought the Democrats’ convention would be calmer than the other. Anyway – a few notes.

Dear Michelle (Obama, of course);

Focusing  your speech on your daughters was genius. You reminded everyone listening that the future isn’t something we can leave to just anyone. You reminded all of us that we can’t sit back and do nothing; we need to pour our passion into electing Hillary Clinton president. I will remind myself of your speech every time I feel too tired to volunteer or too discouraged to blog. 

Dear Debbie (Wasserman-Schultz – are there any other Debbies?);

If you don’t want to see it on the front page of the newspaper, in print or online, don’t hit send. Nothing, whether on a private or a so-called secure server, is truly private. Nothing.

Dear Bernie Backers; 

Bernie Sanders lost. You’re feeling hurt and upset at the delegate total. But when you boo, I feel embarrassed, because Bernie has already come to grips with his loss. It’s a small minority of his supporters that haven’t. So please, pull yourselves together – just like in 2008 when Hillary stepped aside and supported Barack Obama. 

Dear Democrat Speakers;

Keep count. Use your fingers, keep a tally, or drop marbles in your pockets, but keep count. Trump already has name recognition. You can get Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine the name recognition they need by speaking their names more often than you do the name of their opponent.

Dear Hillary; 

I’m with you. I want to see you shatter that final glass ceiling into a million shards. 

as seen on local church

The Unitarian Universalist fellowship, or the UU, displayed this banner for nearly two years. By making the statement that Black Lives Matter, the fellowship encourages people to think. Phone calls objecting to or questioning the banner lead to conversations on race – valuable conversations.

A few days ago, someone took down the banner and stole away with it. The thief or thieves are still at large. The banner hasn’t shown up.

This vandalism, this theft, upsets me. All lives may matter, but black lives are at substantially greater risk just by stepping out the door and getting into a car. Supporting the group called Black Lives Matter doesn’t mean being anti-white or anti-police. Hanging the banner invites conversation and recognizes that in our anglo-centric society, people of color face discrimination and dangers every day that we of white privilege cannot even imagine.