A letter to our daughters in the wake of the 2024 presidential election

Sometimes the fight takes a while.

The following essay represents my own political views. I realize that not everyone hoped for the same thing on Election Day. Let’s keep talking.

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Dear Lucy and Rosie,

Over the past several days, I’ve been remembering November 9, 2016. You were sweet, enthusiastic little girls, just 8 and 10 years old, and we had spent the previous day decorating a Trader Joe’s gingerbread White House with a little sign that said, “Welcome Hillary!” We were thrilled about the idea of a woman becoming president and we felt very confident that the American people would elect her. I tucked you into bed excited to watch the results of the election roll in.

Waking you up the next morning and telling you the tough news was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

I’ve wondered for years — maybe we shouldn’t have made that gingerbread house? Were we tempting fate? Were we leaning into hope that wasn’t there? In retrospect, we’ve learned about the polling errors, the “shy” Trump-voters, and the unexpected events that may have led to Hillary’s defeat. Perhaps we should have been wiser, more suspect, tempering our enthusiasm with caution.

But today, even in the wake of another defeat, I have some clarity. I’m glad we decorated that gingerbread White House for Hillary. I’m also glad we made a Kamala-themed menu for this year’s election night (“dinneramala!”). I’m glad for the postcards sent and the phone calls made, for our lawn sign and for our excitement over Kamala’s epic cameo on Saturday Night Live. I’m glad because it’s always good to hope.

Hope, Brené Brown says, isn’t a feeling — it’s a way of thinking and a cognitive process, a special combination of goals, planning, and a sense of our own agency. Hope can be learned, it can grow, and it does good work in us — even when there is pain involved.

Ann and Jon, hopeful in August 2005.

Before you were born, your father and I hoped for a child — and three times in a row, we lost pregnancies, dashing our hopes and sending us into grief before we dared to hope again. For those of us who, when casting our vote in this election, did not feel like we were choosing the lesser of two evils but instead felt delighted to be able to fill in the circle next to the name Kamala Harris, we’re experiencing a similar pain profile — a loss of potential joy and a deep grief in our country’s newfound reality.

One of the things I’m finding most difficult in my own reckoning of this election centers on leadership style. There is much to be said about the different policies and platforms of each candidate, and I’m not here to debate those right now. But they each embody an important difference in leadership style. I’m going to quote Brené Brown again because she describes this difference in the best way I’ve heard, contrasting two perspectives: Leaders who work from a position of Power Over, and leaders who work from a position of Power With. We saw in Kamala Harris a prime example of a leader who was ready to work from a position of Power With — but it turns out that Power Over ended up winning.

This does not feel, to me, like the right way to end this story. Power Over is Darth Vader strangling an ineffective subordinate, and Power With is the rebellion working together to take down Jabba the Hut. Power Over looks like Sauron’s orcs and Saruman’s Uruk-hai, while Power With looks like the Fellowship of the Ring partnering with elves and Ents to preserve Middle Earth. We see Power Over when the White Witch decrees that it would be always winter and never Christmas, but Power With is in play when Aslan depends on an army of mice to free him from his bounds by nibbling away at the ropes.

Whatever you might think about the president-elect, I believe few would claim that he demonstrates the kind of collaborative power that brings people together and invites others to the table. It turns out that more than half of Americans voted for the Power Over guy, which makes it a tough blow for those who value skills of partnership and listening and mutual respect. But even though Power Over has won the 2024 election, I want to say this is not the end of the story.

It’s back to the idea of hope. We must remember that, in narratives, hope fuels the middle part of a story. When we expect a triumphant finish but we experience a failure instead, there is disappointment and grief. We have to pause, regroup, reflect — and also recast the story of our journey. If we had felt that we were wrapping up the third act of the play, we need to understand now that we’re only in Act II and there’s a whole lot more of this story before the curtain comes down. We still have plenty of space in this tale to honor and value the kind of power that brings people together.

So take heart. We’re sad now, sitting with our broken hearts and our shock and our fears. But as we pick up the pieces, let’s remember that there is more hope to be had for the future. We’re poised to find ways to lift up admirable leadership, the kind that points toward a beautiful future — and if a woman embodies this kind of leadership once again, all the better! There is a certain freedom that comes with a loss like this, a determination to persist. What have we got to lose? Kamala herself encouraged us by saying, “Do not despair. This is not a time to throw up our hands. This is a time to roll up our sleeves.” So let’s take a little time to heal, and then let’s plunge ourselves elbow-deep into hope once more. We’re not going back.

Tidbits

I’m reeling from this week’s news cycle, but also trying to take care of myself. Here are some things that help and some resources to share

• Walks. Not new for me, but reliable. Walking and praying through the neighborhood helps ground me in reality.

• Lifting weights. I’ve been going to the gym to lift weights three times a week for over a year. This came in particularly helpful on Wednesday morning when I needed to expend some grief- and anger-filled energy. Set two personal records that day!

• Words (but not too many). I’m reading articles and listening to podcasts, talking with friends and writing out my feelings. I appreciated this illustrated to-do list for self-care. All of it helps me to sort through this new reality, but I need to be careful not to go overboard with words and fall into a black hole of despair.

• Ted Lasso. This favorite show has been a unique comfort in this season, a reliable way to pull myself out of a vortex of newscasts. I’m returning again and again to Ted’s wise speech to his team at the end of season one. It’s a spoiler, but I’d say worth watching anyway.

• Upcoming event. This article from Miranda Zapor Cruz encourages Christians to live out our primary identity as citizens of the Kingdom of God first and foremost, despite political affiliation. And for those who might like to explore this topic a bit more, join The Well for an interview with Miranda Zapor Cruz on Monday, November 11 at 9:00 pm (eastern) in Fall 2024 book club finale event. You’re welcome to join in even if you haven’t read Faithful Politics or been part of the book club!