"Did she win?" she asks me. Her eyes aren't even open yet. She would have stayed up all night if I let her. She was that anxious to find out if our country was going to have its first woman president.
I disappoint my children every day. No more candy. Time for bed. No TV tonight. Do your homework. I deliver this kind of "bad" news all the time. It's part of parenting. And they groan and complain and wish for a different outcome. But this news? Having to look my 8-year-old in the eye and tell her that, 'No sweetheart...she didn't win,' is a moment I don't wish to ever have to live through again. The sadness in her eyes stabbed me in the heart, even though I put on a smile and tried to reassure her that everything is going to be ok.
She had so much hope- a belief that good would win out, that the hatred and racism and lies would be defeated. All the political consequences aside, my little girl wanted to see a woman in the highest position in the country. But instead of celebrating, I had to tell her that a highly educated, highly accomplished, highly prepared woman lost to a man who has no experience at all. What I didn't have the heart to explain was that even though the man who won said terrible things about women, even though the man who won encouraged violence and hatred against those who didn't support him, even though the man who won plans to systematically discriminate against minority religions and races, even though the man who won is accused of rape and sexual assault and infidelity, more than half of the people of our country found all of that acceptable in a leader. I didn't explain those things because I want her to be able to sleep at night, even if so many of us can't.
As parents, we teach our children respect. We teach them to honor their elders and trust in those people who are in a position to protect us. What do we teach them now? Even without watching much tv, my daughter has seen enough news clips -- at restaurants, in airport terminals, in waiting rooms, etc -- to know that Donald Trump is not someone she can look up to. She told me herself, 'Mom, you can tell that man is lying.' So what do I tell her now?
What I did tell her this morning, as she lay in her pink bed, surrounded by dolls and Harry Potter books and stuffed unicorns, is that she has the power to become whatever she wants to be. That if she doesn't like the way things are, that she has the power to try and change them. I told her that 10 years might seem like a long time but it will pass quickly enough and then her vote will count, like mine counted yesterday. The election might not have turned out the way she and I hoped, but that doesn't mean that we don't have a voice.
I have to believe that at some point, Americans will understand that experience matters, that respect and civility matters, that fairness and kindness and equality matters. I am heartbroken to say that we aren't there yet. But having a daughter, as well as a son who will need to look harder to find better role models, pushes me to keep fighting for those things. And it motivates me to help guide them through harder moments like the one our country faces right now.
My kids will see a woman president in their lifetime. I am sure of that. Not because we need a woman president to make things fair, but because there will come a time when a woman runs and she will be the right choice. Maybe it will be my daughter, as I told her this morning. She certainly has the guts for it. And the heart. And if nothing else good comes out of the next four years, let it be the fire that was lit inside of her today. Right now it is surrounded by darkness and sadness. But those people that love and support her will keep it fed and safe from the terrible winds that will blow around her as she grows. And some day it may light up the world.
