Maybe if I'd had time to think about it, I might have written this back to the woman on twitter wondering why more women weren't more excited about so many women entering the Presidential fray. For myself, it's been exhausting watching this country lurch from crisis to crisis and news cycle to news cycle. Also, if we are going to have big midterm elections, which I hope we do, maybe there can be less of a sense that voting for President is the vote that really counts.
I hate to admit it, though, because of where my volunteer energy goes, and thinking about how excited I was to cast that first ballot, but I've gotten used to feeling ignored in elections.Don't get me wrong...it would be a big deal to know that my benefits and health care would not be under threat, but it's still somewhat of a dead end, now that I know that I didn't grow up to be one of those super-inspiring crips that ends up getting her letter read at the state of the union or something like that. In 2012, I kind of loved it when Barack Obama spoke up about his father-in-law's persistence in the face of his mobility struggles, but then again, even the most overt conversation about disability from a President in my lifetime was still about "Never let it hold you back," and all the ways Mr. Robinson didn't ask for help.This is not a narrative I can run with, as they say.I am not special, and yet, I know I'm not ordinary either. The next time a candidate(of any gender) talks about people "who work hard and play by the rules," again I will have to decide whether to pretend she meant me or not. Because none of them will be thinking of me.I'm not sure if it matters at this point whether they will be not paying attention in a pink suit or a striped tie. I've got my favorites, of course, but I no longer have the driving sense that electing a candidate who knows what a nightmare bra shopping is would solve everything, for me or for Womankind(TM). My state has had its share of women governors, running the gamut from accomplished to nightmarish, and still remains pretty solidly antifeminist.
I don't know what I envisioned the first time I heard Ally Sheedy deliver this line...maybe workaholics or people who walk past homeless people without looking, neither of which I''ve become, and at one point, that might have been enough for me to declare that Ms. Exceptional had not entirely left the building, but I have to admit the sense of limitless possibility that I might have felt as a teen is gone. I suppose that is not something even the most determined optimist sports in her mid-forties, no matter how much I might wish I could. So, what's next? Is rational optimism a thing? Why or why not?
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