I don’t know if I had ever even heard of Jason Chaffetz until this morning and yet, by lunch, the Utah republican had basically broken my brain. It was not his fault alone, the camel was already begging for a merciful death before Chaffetz ever added his victim-blaming straw. The first thing I read this morning was a breakdown of the GOP healthcare* plan. This is why we can’t have nice things. Because they walk right in, snatch it up, tell us we don’t deserve it, and then take it home for themselves.
Valentine’s day, with a school-aged kid, is basically a test of patience. There is the torture of watching a younger elementary school child try to write out 25 cards, the drama and hurt feelings, the sheer mass of candy, and the logistics of trying to find a babysitter for a date night in an over-crowded restaurant (or just choosing to ignore the romantic aspects completely).
I will always regret not going to the march on Washington last weekend. I let anxiety and fear stand in my way, which is surprisingly rare for me. Today, my aunt, Lynda Sadler, posted her recap of the event and I found it really interesting. It’s not a lit essay or an essay meant to be a story with a powerful message. It is, instead, her Facebook review of a day with many powerful moments. I’ve never had a guest post before but I really wanted to share this story of the logistics and play-by-play of how the trip from North Carolina to DC and back again went for my aunts.
Dear Ms. DeVos,
It became quite clear during your nomination hearing that you don’t really know that much about education. Or guns or bears or sexuality. Three of those four things seem like important topics for Secretary of Education.
You may remember my general distaste for scales. Not the weighing type, but the type healthcare providers are always trying to use to measure subjective issues. Pain scales. Anxiety scales. That sort of thing.
A lot of us are struggling to figure out how to express what we are feeling. It is nothing quite like we have ever experienced before.
I wasn’t sure I would write anything. Nothing I say is going to make any difference. I would be just another voice screaming in the abyss.