I’m struggling to process the U.S. Capitol coup
I’m having a really hard time processing the U.S. Capitol coup, and the mob that attempted to carry it out.
This is not supposed to happen here. I live in Wakanda-ass D.C. so that I don’t have to worry about armed Klansmen running around with Confederate flags to lynch people. Capitol Hill is supposed to be safer than my old neighborhood in Southeast. That’s part of why we moved here: someone shot our next door neighbor on her stoop, in a successful attempt to shoot her teenage sons’ friend. This left casings on our front steps and bullet holes in our “For Sale” sign.
We evacuated our apartment on January 6. But what do we do next week? There’s violence planned for January 17 (because Q is the 17th number, which is the most secret-decoder-on-the-back-of-a-cereal-box ass shit I’ve ever heard), 19 and 20. What if there are more bombs? What if these white supremacists actually show up in D.C. streets to kill civilians? What if assassins kill Biden and Harris?
So many what ifs. So many message boards threats. So hard to feel any joy now, despite our new Madame Vice President, Democratic control of both houses of Congress, and the very real chances for D.C. statehood. I spend most of my time outside of teaching on Twitter and one of the remaining sites for MAGA insurrectionists, looking for clues about what comes next. Last night I researched the requirements to become a licensed public school teacher in Ontario. I feel constantly sick to my stomach and always afraid. The last time I felt this way was during the two weeks my oldest daughter was hospitalized before she died.
Two years ago today is also the last time I saw one of the best friends I’ve ever had. A group of Charise’s friends and family threw a going away brunch for her, and at the end, after too many photos and almost as many tearful goodbyes, I drove Charise to the airport. She’s been in London ever since. She’s never met my two youngest children – both have been born since she left – and COVID interrupted any plans to go visit. Still, Charise and I have been through a lot together since the pandemic started, navigating our family’s pasts, the challenges of marriage, and the fight to keep our spirits afloat when so much is going wrong. I wish she was here so she could evacuate the city with my family for next week’s inauguration, and we could post up on an Airbnb couch to talk shit through a Harry Potter marathon and drink wine.
A malcontent with a heart of gold, Tierra is a first-year medical student, former high school teacher and history PhD candidate, plus mom to four of Bebe’s baddest kids. She curses a lot. Tierra is a DC native but lives in southwest Michigan and will happily exchange writing (hers) for cash (yours).
