I have been absent from here in the past few days because I have been watching how the elections unfolded for us, here in the US.
I know speaking politics is not always good, and “friends” have become “not friends” over political partisanship. We shouldn’t! Never ever should the political institutions be more important than people, than our relationships! I have friends that are both Republicans and Democrats and although I feel strongly about my own convictions, partisanship will never break my friendships. Never!
That being said, I am thinking about moving forward….and I cannot help going back in time and think about my life experience.
Remember 1989, and the political upheavals in Eastern Europe? Remember U.S.S.R. breaking and the fall of the Berlin Wall? I was in Romania when that happened. I remember my parents crying happy that everything was over. I was so young and didn’t understand politics.
Back then, in 1989, we, the people, thought that from tomorrow everything would be different. It wasn’t. It took and it will take tens of years of hard work to change the ways in which a society functions.
Here too…. the work begins. We have to heal the rifts in our society, which in the past years have deepened …..and that will take time and hard work. Partisanship or not, we have always been a great nation, with hard working people. Remember that!
This morning I was looking over the official ballot. I found it odd that Trump is at the top and Biden at the bottom! I didn’t know how they establish the order in the ballot. I did’t think it’s alphabetical because I checked and the others are also not alphabetically sorted. So, how do they determine the order?
They say that California has a randomized alphabet procedure, I went to the state’s website and you can find more about it here : California Randomized Aplhabet procedure . This procedure was established by legislation passed in 1975 in response to court rulings declaring that standard alphabetical order or incumbent-first was unconstitutional…..
I questioned the “random!” , because of the order in my ballot. But then a friend sent me hers…….
So, not everybody gets the same thing…. BUT!! She lives in a different county. Other people in the same county with me got the same order as mine……
So now, I would be curious to know if the ballot’s order is randomized per county or individually?
In reaction of judge Ruth Ginsburg death, I wrote a poem, which I am sharing with you below. I am worried for what happens in our politics. I want peace, progress and a better future. This is what we are known for, we are a country of open minded, kind people that care about each other. People that came here to escape religious persecution (that doesn’t mean that you cannot be any religion you choose!), founders of this land who came here with their dreams, California’s gold diggers who came here to change their lives, immigrants who came on ships to follow their American Dream, ALL came here for a better life, for equal opportunities. This is who we are, this is what makes us different from other parts of the world, where you cannot speak your mind or where you have cast systems that will prevent you from achieving your potential, because you’re not born into it.
America means progress. America means equality. America means fairness and equal opportunity. America means freedom. America means gender equality. American means us, all of us.
And here is the story I wrote, it’s the story of our founding mothers and fathers. And that, unless your are a native American, lives in all of us.
She, born in the land of sewed mouths, And tall fences, Made it to the shore. She touched her wings, Bruised in her erratic flight To escape to freedom.
Guardians of the new land came and took her, Some had assuming eyes and asked about her journey. She looked up at the eagle flying in the sky, And smiled.
She didn’t have a map to show her journey of yesterday, But just like the eagle flight, high and free, Her dreams and hopes were fearlessly flowing through her veins, Holding promises of a shinier, better tomorrow.
She took the cotton rag strapped across her chest, And kissed the picture of another Compressed in charcoal. She folded its burned edges, Still smelling like her mom’s cooking, And stud up, Until the guards let her follow the music, Of the valleys and mountains of this newfound land.
The memory of her first step joined others, Next to big and small footprints. The dirt road looked like an eternal mosaic jigsaw puzzle, With different colors. She smiled as her mark added more meaning, To its one big, and still in progress story.