Madam Vice President!

 

 

My husband, Dan, was uncharacteristically anxious in the days leading up to and following the presidential election. I was anxious too, but that is my regular state-of-being. 

 

Both of us felt as though there was a lot at stake this time around. In some ways, especially in the wake of our nation's horrendous pandemic statistics, we felt as though it was a matter of life and death. 

The Saturday after the election, the presidential race had not been called, and Dan and I went for a run on the city Greenbelt. I put my phone on Do Not Disturb, so I could enjoy my time in nature. (I have been using my Do Not Disturb setting often . . . for mental health reasons.)

 

At the end of the jog, as I was stretching and not checking my phone, I heard Dan gasp. 

 

“Biden won! It's been called!” 

 

I turned my notifications on, and my screen blew up (figuratively) with texts from family members, friends, and headlines from reputable news outlets.

 

"We're back in Paris Climate Accord! We're back in the WHO!" I exclaimed. "We're going to get the Coronavirus under control!" 

“Maybe I should have waited until we were in the car . . " Dan said.

 

“I don’t care that we’re standing in a red neighborhood! Dreamers won’t be deported! DACA might be expanded! Other countries will like us again!"

 

Then the big realizations hit:

 

"No more Betsy Devos! Jill Biden is pro-public education! WE HAVE A FEMALE VICE PRESIDENT!” 

 

A fisherman appeared on the hill next to the river. I shut my mouth.

 

"What did you see?" he asked. 

 

"Biden won," Dan replied.

 

"That's it then," he sighed and walked back to his fishing spot.

"That was relatively uneventful. Maybe everyone else will take it that well," I hissed at Dan.

"Don't count it."

Of course, we all know how that turned out.

 

Aside from that initial outburst, I did not find myself celebrating as much as others. I actually cried quite a bit that Saturday. I cried tears of relief after witnessing four years of fear mongering and vitriol and hero worship of a seemingly amoral human being. 

 

I also cried tears of joy after a lifetime of watching women inch closer to U.S. presidency, only to be denied, while women across the globe have been elected as national and world leaders for decades.

 

 

As a little girl, I woke up every morning to a plaque on my bedroom wall that read, "Girls Can Do Anything."

 

I grew up listening to—and wearing out—Free to Be, You and Me on vinyl, hot pink album cover. I could probably still sing most of the songs by heart.

All of these things were courtesy of my mother. 

 

My mother introduced me to the writings of Gloria Steinem and Betty Freidan. She had me read The Cinderella Complex as a teen.

 

When Geraldine Ferraro ran with Walter Mondale on the Democrat ticket in 1984, my Republican mother admitted it would be cool to see a woman that close to the presidency.

 

(Personally, I didn’t feel that way about Sarah Palin in 2008. John McCain was a stand-up guy, and I truly respected him. But Palin was the first sign the crazy had arrived and could actually amass a substantial gun-toting base.)

I wish my mother was alive to see this.

I'm not sure she would have voted for a Democrat, but I'm 99.9% sure Trump would not have gotten her vote either. My mother did not appreciate misogyny or grammatically incorrect sentences.

 

 

On Sunday, I announced, “I’m wearing my NASA shirt in honor of science being a thing again!”

 

Everything is still in chaos. Although there might be some lingering denial by the time this post is published, this much is true:

 

We have our first female vice president-elect, as well as our first Black and South Asian vice president-elect.

And she is speaking!

 

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