Complacency in this Moment
Reflections on the inauguration and the threat of political catharsis.
Photo by Liam Edwards on Unsplash, edited by Badlands
Please don’t become complacent. I’m not trying to be negative. But let me try to explain the roller coaster of emotions that I have been on leading to this day, Inauguration Day 2021.
Starting yesterday, the last day of the Trump Presidency, I saw many well-meaning progressives posting things that eluded to the sigh of relief they were going to feel when things went back to normal. Many well-meaning progressives were talking about how the last 4 years were “like the worst ever.”
But for myself, as a first-gen Latina, as a daughter of Mexican Immigrants, as an openly queer person in a conservative state, these last 4 years only exacerbated everything that those of us who are not white/cis/het already knew—America is seeping in racism, in white supremacy, in homophobia, in transphobia. It has been since it’s inception, when it enacted genocide against the Indigenous Nations that existed here, when they enslaved Africans and brought them over in the most inhumane conditions, creating generational trauma that continues to this day. We exist on stolen land to this day. These last 4 years merely opened your eyes to what people like me, and my comrades, have known all along.
I heard too many people say that they didn’t know that this much white supremacy existed in Idaho, in Boise of all places. They didn’t see the Confederate flags until Trump was elected. They didn’t see the anti-Blackness until Trump was elected. They didn’t see the Islamophobia until Trump was elected. They say they didn’t know any better. But what we know is that you weren’t listening to us. You weren’t hearing us. You weren’t seeing us. You called us disrupters. Antagonizers. Instigators.
“Why are you so mad?”
“You’re so spicy.”
“Why are you so mean?”
“If you were nicer you’d have more support.”
“You’re losing me as an ally.”
“Here’s my resume. There’s no way I’m racist.”
“I don’t see color.”
“I have a Black/Brown/Gay/Trans friend.”
Our throats are raw from the yelling, from the shouting, from the screams, from the crying. We are exhausted. I mean, Fuck! We were already exhausted when Trump took office. These last 4 years have tried grinding us out of existence. Why did it take so much death, so much harm, so much trauma for you to hear us? That’s not really a question because I know the answer. It’s because it was finally in your face so much you could no longer ignore it. It disrupted your News Feed and Twitter Feeds full of puppy videos and Recipe ideas and babies and weddings.
And then January 6th rolls around and so many people have the audacity to be shocked. Shocked, I tell you! How could this happen in our country?! How did we need see this coming? How, how, how?
And again……*eye roll*
How could you not expect this to happen? Did you again stop listening to us the moment we found out Trump was out? Did you again stop listening to us when suddenly Georgia, that beautiful wondrous state, was about to deliver to us 2 shiny new Democratic Senators and in turn deliver us the U.S. Senate? If you had listened to the words of Black Organizers and Leaders, then you would have known that this was always possible and was on the way. You would have known that this is exactly what our country has done to so many other countries around the world. (Don’t believe me, study up on Latin American political history.) It was only a matter of time before it happened here.
“We were already exhausted when Trump took office.”
This was followed by shock that the insurrectionists were allowed to leave after breaking into the Capitol, after setting up gallows outside, after trying to destroy Democracy and nearly started a second Civil War. Why weren’t they tear gassed? Why weren’t they shot? Why, Why, Why? We know why. You know why. The privilege of whiteness allows you to walk away with your life. Meanwhile, Black people continued to be shot for walking with their hoods up, for dancing with headphones on, for driving while Black, for sleeping in their beds, for playing with toy guns, for selling cigarettes, for using a counterfeit twenty-dollar bill.
All these feelings leading up to today, Inauguration Day. And I’m elated. I truly am, don’t get me wrong. I cried. I didn’t expect to cry, but I cried. And I didn’t cry for Biden, I cried because of Madam Vice President Kamala Harris. I cried because I saw the first ever woman, Black woman, South Asian Woman, Daughter of Immigrants, get sworn into the Vice-Presidency on the United States. I cried because when I was facetiming my parents they also cried. I cried because I know what this moment means for parents, who came to this country as undocumented immigrants. I cried because my mom woke me up today after having watched the ceremonies of today since 7:00 AM and she was so excited. I cried because she said “mija, did you know her parents are immigrants. You can do this too.” I cried because my dad reminded me, after I told him the work hasn’t ended, it’s just gotten easier, that at least now we can live with more peace of mind. I cried because I’m exhausted and a weight so heavy that I didn’t even realize I was carrying was suddenly off my chest, off of my shoulders, off of my back. Because now we can push for transformational change. Because we can stop so much of that harm that we have experiencing day to day, not knowing what evil fuckery was coming at us next. I cried….because, , to paraphrase Valerie Kaur, I truly believe we are in the midst of birthing a new nation.
And, I’m filled with fear. I fear the complacency I named at the very beginning. I fear that since your lives, as white/cis/het people, won’t be as impacted anymore, that you’ll forget to do your work to unpack and unlearn the racism that has been instilled and socialized in us since birth. I fear that our voices, which were starting to finally break through the noise, will be drowned out again by calls for unity and the toxic positivity that swirls and coalesces so quickly. I fear your complacency, because your complacency means death for so many of us.
“I fear that our voices, which were starting to finally break through the noise, will be drowned out again by calls for unity and the toxic positivity that swirls and coalesces so quickly.”
I fear that you still aren’t hearing us. That you believe now that Trump is gone, his beliefs have left with him. They still exist within the House of Representatives with sedition supporters like Idaho Representative Russ Fulcher. The silence and inaction from Idaho Representative Mike Simpson makes him complicit and equally responsible. They still exist in the U.S. Senate with folks like Hawley and Cruz. Our Idaho Senators, Risch and Crapo, are complicit by refusing to distance themselves from Trump, for refusing to denounce the white supremacists from the very beginning. They still exist as your Idaho elected officials, they exist as your neighbors, as parents in your PTA, as grocery clerks, as bank tellers, as so many things. They exist here.
I say all of this I guess as a reminder that we cannot afford for you to be complacent. Now, more than ever, is the time for you to double down on all the work you have started doing these last 4 years. Now, more than ever, is when we need you to listen, truly listen, to the Black, Indigenous, Brown, Queer, Trans leaders in this state that are still sounding the alarm. Now, more than ever, we must push for transformational change and stop settling for incremental changes, for crumbs. We need bold vision, we need transformational action, and we need radical accountability. There can be no healing without justice, without accountability.
Will you continue the work? Can I count on you?
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A first generation Idahoan and proud daughter of immigrant parents, Jennifer Martinez (she/hers/ella) is deeply committed to ending systemic oppression and brings an intersectional and anti-racist lens into all of the spaces she engages and has done so in the various community organizer activist, and political roles she has held. Her ultimate goal is being a part of the creation of a liberated world for her descendants.