I swarmed! And appreciate the Senate bill graveyard.

Several months ago, one of my very dearest pals and I decided that rain, shine, or whatever life was throwing at us, we’d walk together every Thursday morning. I believe the only exception we’ve made is when we stayed in to watch Fiona Hill conquer her hearing during the impeachment trial. That was infinitely worth it.

This Thursday tradition is one of my favorite parts of every week, time with a rare gem of a human that I treasure. Yesterday after we walked, I used my new juicer (the Breville juice fountain; I could not recommend it more) to make us fresh carrot-orange juice, and as we drank our vitamins, I confided that with Tom out of town and the pace I’ve been keeping, perhaps I wouldn’t head downtown to join the #SwarmTheSenate protest at noon.

“I’m tired, but I do want to go.”

“Well, you don’t have to go. You certainly go enough. But it does always make you feel better.”

It does, she was right, and I’m so glad I hauled it down to the Hart Senate Building to join the swarm, not least because just after we began, the House walked the articles of impeachment to the Senate and Chief Justice Roberts began swearing in each senator as an impartial justice (we’ll see about that as not a few Republicans have already made clear they refuse to call witnesses, hear new evidence, or listen to anything that goes against ‘our dear leader is perfect’).

Swarm is a committed, welcoming bunch from all over the country: California, Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Florida, New Jersey. They have black shirts that together spell out a variety of phrases and others that have Article 2 Section 4 of the Constitution on the back. Some have been adorned with colorful pieces of fabric on which Remove Trump has been printed. Fortunately, I was wearing a charcoal shirt and navy pants so I didn’t stand out too badly. And they have rolls of Remove Trump/Swarm the Senate stickers, so I stuck two to my chest.

We gathered inside the Hart atrium, in front of a towering black steel Calder sculpture called Mountains and Clouds. Quietly, peacefully, we stood in front of it in rows, the sun streaming down on us through skylights overhead. Periodically, perhaps because of the stringent rules around gatherings and protests in government buildings or perhaps to infuse a bit of performance art into our protest, we walked silently around, a solemn conga line punctuated by silent resisters standing firmly in newly adopted places.

An 85-year-old woman named Barbara had brought a folding stool to sit on rather than stand. The guards told her she was not allowed to sit in the atrium unless she used the stone benches scattered around the perimeter of the space. After some respectful discussion about was that discrimination or not -I mean, would they not let someone in a wheelchair stay put?- Barbara relocated to a bench. We gathered around her in solidarity (see second photo, above).

in the second floor atrium

Roughly forty-minutes in, we made our way to the second floor of the Russell Senate building where the gorgeous, multi-floor round atrium is. I saw a woman I’d marched with and met several years ago, the NRA -> DC march, and also met a great woman from New Jersey. I felt so deeply and sadly that so many of the people who sit behind the wooden desks in the marbled offices in the hallowed halls of Hart don’t remotely respect the country or office enough to deserve the positions of power they hold.

Someone unfurled an enormous Remove Trump banner, and we did calls-and-responses with an ever-growing crowd of protesters until we got our third warning from Capitol Police. I could not afford to get arrested yesterday, nor could the NJ woman I’d met, so we walked around the Capitol grounds. I stopped suddenly in front of a new visual I’d not seen before: a graveyard of House bills the Senate, McConnell, has refused to bring to the floor.

It’s powerful. Rows of headstones each with a bill as epitaph. 347 House-passed bills just languishing on McConnell’s desk. Bipartisan bills that would help Americans in so many ways.

I don’t know what will happen this November , but I do know that it’s worth fighting every single day until then to protect what democracy we have left, to get enough people informed and inspired to vote in new members of Congress who will actually care about oaths, regular citizens, infrastructure, our dying planet, equity, justice, and the future.

What are you doing to help bring about change this year? Please share all acts, big or small. I’d love to hear about them!

New Year, New Em-i-lis

It is an abnormally warm winter morning; 63° F in Maryland on January 12? And nearly 70 yesterday. Meanwhile, Australia continues to burn, and the news about the Ukrainian passenger plane shot down by Iran remains shrouded in suspicion, smoke, and mirrors. trump has been impeached by the House, but the Senate is unwilling to hold a fair trial.

2020 is not off to an auspicious start, and I have been sitting with a definite sense of unease and fatigue since the proverbial ball dropped. In reflection, several things have crystallized.

1. Facebook, while so pleasurable and connective in many ways, is not a positive force for democracy or educative purposes. Mark Zuckerberg is a bad actor, and his policies do not support a site that bridges or teaches. Rather, he turns a willfully blind eye to the many ways his site not only allows but spreads mis- and disinformation, and I can no longer be a part of that. With mixed feelings, and as many of you know, I’ve just bid Facebook goodbye. For now I’ll stay on Twitter (@em_i_lis) and Instagram (em_i_lis) should you wish to connect on social media.

2. My writerly mind and hand have felt increasingly shriveled, a reaction, I believe, to the stress of life post-2016. Nothing feels as safe, and I see so many of us hunkering down and in, searching for people and spaces in which we can vent, breathe, worry, and support. And yet I attribute writing (and teachers and mentors like Jena, Dana, Anne, Laura, CLJ, Denise, Leah, Margaret, and Sue Ann) to freedom. To so much of the woman I am today. To the ways I’ve shrugged off old burdens and others’ expectations that didn’t resonate with who I really am. To the voice and sense of self I have now. It seems clear that I need to return to this space and reclaim it, reshape it, repair the flaking silver from its back so that I see my most accurate reflection when I peer in.
   As Margaret Atwood said, “A word after a word after a word is power.” For me, for all of us.

3. Every single one of us needs to get busy in support of this November’s election. Winning the Presidency and Senate and holding the House will require all of us to donate, call, text, knock on doors, register voters, and urge people to exercise the privilege we each have in our vote. And let me be clear, I believe, firmly and completely, that we have to gain hold of all three, the White House, the Senate, and the House, if we are to right our sinking ship. I don’t want to live in a single-party silo country, but the GOP has completely lost its way. With the exception of Justin Amash who had to leave the party behind, the GOP has shown that it cares not for our Constitution, cares not about representing the totality of the American people, and cares not for the rule of law. America is NOT and should not be a heteronormative, white, Christian country.
   As you’ve all heard many times, Benjamin Franklin, exiting Independence Hall the day the Constitution was adopted, was asked, “Dr. Franklin, what do we have, a monarchy or a republic?” He replied, “A republic, if we can keep it.” 

Keep it we must. Keeping it means doing more than tweeting and posting. It means real footwork, a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of determination. It means being deeply educated and being willing to talk and share knowledge with others, to fill the holes left in the wake of pitiful excuses for “news” outlets like Fox, of weak public education, of willful ignorance, and of bigotry, hate, and pretty much every -ism you can think of. We must, each of us, be informed and remain open-minded. We must seek candidates to support but also hold the big picture front and center. Intra-party purity tests only benefit the opposition (except re: Tulsi. She is a terrible candidate who has failed to do her congressional job more than 87% of the time, and she isn’t a Democrat).

Long story short, let’s get to work. In addition to my activism, I am relaunching Em-i-lis as a small contribution to the Resistance. My goal is for this space to educate and inspire and foster a community of energetic, democratically-minded peers and also to entertain and chat with you.

Here you will find:

• a weekly round-up of articles, speeches, etc that feel critically important and contribute to Em-i-lis’ new mission;

• contributions by really incredible thinkers and writers who are regular people like you and me, people I am lucky to call friends and who are doing the work we must all do;

• ways you can get involved in various campaigns, get-out-the-vote efforts, and so forth;

• humor! levity! comic relief! my cats! general spawn-based shenanigans! travel, theater, and book ideas.

If Em-i-lis is no longer for you, I wish you all the best. If you want to join me here, please subscribe! You’ll have to confirm/verify your email, so please check your inbox and/or spam box to ensure you click through the link you receive. You’ll only hear from me once daily at the very most- after I post, a Daily Em-i-lis is emailed out the next morning. My goal is 2-3 posts per week.

Please be patient as the site undergoes some renovation, and keep in mind that while it is optimized for mobile, the best functionality and viewer experience is via desktop. Please let me know what you like, don’t like, want more of or less of. And as always, thank you for your friendship and support!

Let’s do this!

Impeachment

The past weeks, month, who knows, have been a whirlwind of intensely watching CSPAN, admiring the f**k out of and fan-girling over, in no particular order:

Marie Yovanovitch, Fiona Hill, Adam Schiff, Daniel Goldman, Eric Swalwell, Nancy Pelosi, Jamie Raskin, Bill Taylor, George Kent, Colonel Vindman, Laura Cooper, David Holmes, Val Demings, Jim Himes, Sean Patrick Maloney, and Pramila Jayapal.

Many others shone, too, but the above public servants and congressional members were magnificent in their command of information, expertise, gravitas, and service. I am thankful for Americans like them. I have written thank you notes to some, tweeted and called thanks to others. They are examples of the best of us, and while I know this has not been an easy time for any of us, they have born the weight of the impeachment process and have gone above and beyond their patriotic and moral duty.

(Thanksgiving was slotted in there, and it was magnificent with a trip to southern California to take the boys to Disneyland and Galaxy’s Edge and to see one of my very best college friends, Amy, and her family. More on Galaxy’s Edge later).

Last night’s more-than-600 impeachment rallies around the country were very moving, and this morning, a regular resister sister, Julie, and I met at the Capitol for DC’s impeachment rally.

I supposed, after these years of protesting and fighting against the relentless horrors of the trump administration, that this day of impeachment might involve some feelings of joy, or at least celebration. Nobody is above the law, and finally, trump would realize that includes him.

But today, though sunny and determined, was solemn and tense. Speakers spoke, the crowd chanted and cheered at times, but everyone seemed exhausted and stunned by how ugly and bad things are, and sick of having to withstand the hourly onslaught of detestable behavior by the person who is supposed to care for all Americans and actively doesn’t; whose oath is supposed to be to Country but who only cares about himself; who lies and cheats and demeans and harms; who is surrounded by spineless enablers who with him throw laws and norms out the windows with smug abandon.

About an hour in, an eagle soared over us. A collective gasp followed, and I felt tears prick my eyes. I had a busy day so I left the rally not long after and have felt weepy since.

Tonight, the voting didn’t take long; the results were as expected. I don’t know that I’ll ever understand why the Republicans in Congress have ceded brain and spine to slavishly follow such a terribly flawed, bad person. Mis- and dis-information play big roles- if you only watched the absurd propaganda that is Fox News and crap like InfoWars, you’d probably be pro-trump, too. But those outlets lie. As does trump. Constantly. They traffic in spin and soundbites with no bearing in reality. And our country is weaker and worse and more ignorant and divided for it. And then there’s racism, the hideous through-line of America.

But still.

trump deserves to be impeached, and for much more than just the two articles voted on today. But at some point, he’ll finally be gone, and we’ll all be left bitter, divided, and struggling to pick up the pieces from a razed democracy, trying to keep it, if we can.