Coalescence
By Michelle Garren Flye
My brother had a kaleidoscope
When we were little, and I
loved looking into it
Watching the little
Flowers and
Figures
Join.
I feel like that now, watching as
Tiny beliefs and strategies
Join together into one
Whole at the center.
A tiny pinprick,
With fans of
Color
Expanding
Outward in a
Glorious rainbow
Technicolor colors
Many individuals with
Only one cause at the center.
Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán on Pexels.com
I’ve been struggling with my feelings about the impeachment of Donald Trump. Last night, watching the votes rack up and the opposing sides face off, I felt as if I were torn in half. I never wanted this. But since the day I realized Donald Trump would be our president, I knew it was coming. It was a matter of when. With each of his horrific policies and statements, I wished it would come already. When immigrant children were separated from their families at the border to be placed in group “homes” and “facilities” without protection from God only knows what (death and abuse), I prayed for Donald Trump to be impeached. When he pulled our military out and left our Kurdish allies to bleed and die, I prayed for Donald Trump to be impeached. When Donald Trump overturned the military courts and allowed war crimes to go unpunished, I cursed God for not listening.
And now I am confronted by the reality. Donald Trump is impeached. And every Republican stood behind him, defending the indefensible, turning the truth to fit their own version of reality, spitting in the face of what is right. And I know that when he is acquitted in the Senate by his majority, something precious will die. And all I feel is sad.
When Justice Falls
By Michelle Garren Flye
You’d think I’d be happier, right?
Justice is blind, but Truth lies at her feet.
How can she not see what lies before her?
Come, Justice, set us free from tyranny!
But she can’t hear me above the multitude of lies.
Blind and deafened, she doesn’t see Truth…and stumbles.
You’d think I’d be happy, dancing…
But instead I just want to cry blood and rain.
I want to scream, wake up, stop this!
Please, please…open your eyes.
It’s not a dream, not an illusion—it’s real.
What you grind under your feet doesn’t grow back.
You’d think I’d be happy to tell you I told you so.
I’m not—in truth I never wanted to be right.
I just knew, inescapably and undeniably, that I was.
Now I sit, bowed and broken and old and tired,
At the graveside of ideals with Truth for company.
We wait together—eventually, Justice will fall beside us.
Dear “woke” Democrats,
Here’s the thing. I’ve been a Democrat since Jimmy Carter. No kidding. My first political memory is of campaigning with my mother outside the local Veteran’s Hall. We handed out leaflets and my mother talked about how Carter was a good man.
I was six years old.
Since then most of my family has become Republican, my political affiliation has never wavered. When I registered to vote at the age of 18, I proudly stated my political affiliation as Democrat. Democrat I was and Democrat I always should be. I voted for Mondale and Ferraro. I voted straight Democratic tickets for years. I saw candidates fail time after time because I live in North Carolina, home of Jesse Helms, for God’s sake. I saw Howard Dean’s scream. I lived through Dukakis’s tank ride. I shook my head at Gary Hart’s downfall. In 1991, on the campus of UNC-Chapel Hill, I was moved by the enthusiastic and powerful words of Bill Clinton. I later endured what felt like a betrayal by this personable man I’d supported.
In 2000, I waited with bated breath for the results of an election which should not have been close, only to see Al Gore respectfully bow out when I wanted him to fight. My heart cracked then but by 2004 I thought I’d grown accustomed to defeat when John Kerry also fell short.
The Obama years were a bright spot, but my heart truly broke when Hillary failed in 2016. That’s the only time I’ve ever cried over an election. And now, in these dark times, I find myself with a new enemy.
You.
You dare to tell me, who has struggled wearily along this long path strewn with political careers of people I’ve admired and candidates who’ve failed me, that I’m part of the problem because I’m not “woke” enough? I’ll tell you this, young whippersnappers, I’m “woke” enough to see what your “wokeness” hath wrought and being “woke” doesn’t help you when the world is so dark you can’t see anything but black. And that’s what we’re approaching if you keep firing on people who are ON THE SAME SIDE AS YOU. A world that cares nothing for those who are different, a world that denies problems instead of trying to solve them, a world so deeply divided both sides fall into the crevasse instead of reaching across to each other.
Still don’t think I’m woke enough?
The peanut lapel pin my mother received for campaigning for Jimmy Carter. I keep it to remind myself what being Democrat is all about: Persevering for the little guy.
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 