Lisa Kanter

I am desperately sad that I have to explain to my children how a man who insults so many people so loudly and proudly could have the support of such a huge chunk of the country; that it was on this very platform of hatred and fear and anger that he managed to garner his biggest support; that when Abby asked me this morning what he stood for, I had no answers because if his campaign was any indication, it’s not much; when she asked if her muslim friends would be safe, I could only say yes, while thinking to myself that I genuinely hoped so. If his campaign is any indication, it doesn’t look like anything I’d be proud to support. I still don’t allow myself to think too far ahead, but I am hopeful now, five years later, that it won’t come back. I’ll gather information as it comes, and try to find hope that, in the words of the radiologist who told me I had cancer, though it’s bad news, it’s not the WORST news.

And the doctor looked at me and said, “We can’t bubble wrap our kids, can we? But the truth is, you can’t bubble wrap your kids, and I can’t bubble wrap myself. I am just the slightest bit grateful that I wasn’t there to see him fall (sh! don’t tell Ben). And although I can’t bubble wrap my kids, my husband, myself, or anyone else, recognizing that falls are inevitable and unavoidable, I am so very grateful that I have family and friends who are there to catch me.