Chicago went wild. Every window was filled with silhouettes of people jumping up and down, people ran exuberantly in the streets, whooping and cheering could be heard across the city in every neighborhood. Everyone walked with excitement and confidence in every step, congratulating each other on "our" win. Everyone felt united and together! The Cubs did it for us! We were part of history! Everyone at work was zombies from celebrating too hard for too many nights in a row!
And up to this point, I'd say that I don't care about politics. But again, we made history. Trump also represents an unbelievable win, unexpected and unprecedented in American history in many ways.
Chicago went quiet. Every face in the streets, on the bus, and on the train felt blank. Every conversation I passed in the street was about the election -- commentary on this year's divisive campaigns, speculation on what the future could look like, how his win could represent "our" country. We were part of history. Everyone at work was zombies from wondering too hard how this happened.
Leading up to the election, a lot of people kept saying that they "couldn't wait for it to be over." I'd respond that it was actually just beginning, but I didn't know that I'd be so right either. I don't have a big agenda for calls-to-action or justice, but I stop and think about how this is history and that anything and anyone is always a possibility.
And I suppose it's that thought that I should remember to motivate me to stay involved and pay attention to things I haven't cared about. Because we are part of history.
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