To Johan on the Occasion of your 9th Birthday

My Dear Johan:

Now you are 9 years old. Every year at this time, I write you a love letter reflecting on the past 12 months and the ways you have grown. This year I was going to muse about the traveler you have become. About how you played in the big, crashing waves of the Sea of Cortez and ordered all your batidas de chocolate in Spanish. About how you found your magic in the cobbled streets of Harry Potter world. About how you lead the way through the streets of Harlem reciting all the knowledge you had about Frederick Douglass and wondering if he ever spent time in Harlem.

But then this election happened. The morning after it, I walked into your room knowing I was going to have to give you some of the worst news. Knowing it was going to be one of those very hardest parenting moments. I crawled in bed with you and hugged you, kissing your forehead as your eyes fluttered open. "Who won?," you asked. "I'm so sorry to tell you the news, baby, that it didn't go how we wanted." We cried and hugged and you told me you wanted to try saying a swear word. So you did. You took a deep breath and yelled "Damnit!" Damnit, indeed.

I promised you, though, that things will be ok. I've made that promise to you many times during your life and I think I've always kept that promise. But what does being ok mean in this context? It means we have to act boldly and with courage. The only way things will be ok is for us and for every person that believes in equality, in celebrating diversity, in acceptance, and in justice to work every day for those things. We have to march. We have to write. We have to speak our truth to people. We have to look inward and see where our own prejudices lie. We have to learn from those who are different than us so that we can move beyond our prejudices. We have to think. We have to be vocal and unwavering in our commitment to our core values. We must take every opportunity to denounce discrimination and to acknowledge our common humanity. We must do this in our family and in our neighborhood and in our city and in our state and in our country and in the world.

And Johan, you can be a part of this. When you bring a meal to a person who is hungry, you are a part of this. When you invite the new kid to sit with you at lunch, you are a part of this. When you ask to donate some of your money to a worthy cause, you are a part of this. When you stand up for someone who is being bullied, you are a part of this. When you smile at someone who looks different than you do, you are a part of this. When you listen to and learn from someone who has had different life experiences than you have, you are a part of this.

President Obama was elected when you were less than a year old. I remember nursing you as MSNBC made the call and I looked down at your little brown face with tears streaming down mine. You would know a world where a Black man was the most powerful man in the world. A man who campaigned on hope and was committed to equality. He would inspire us. And he did. The world is better now than in the time before Obama was elected.

So now we have to figure out how to make it better still. We will likely get less guidance from the incoming President than we got from this one. If the new President takes action to undermine the rights of brown and black people, of gays, of women, of transgender people, of Muslims, of Jews, of disabled people, or of any other group of people he has threatened, we will say NO. We will stand with these groups and we will acknowledge our common humanity. The road may be long and it may be bumpy. But, Johan, we will work on it together and with millions of others who agree. You will be guided by your kind, open heart to do what is right. You will be guided by hope, because hope is not something we get from a President or from any one person. It comes from within- from a moral compass that guides us to never stop being a voice for the voiceless.

You were an amazing 8 year old. And you're going to be an even better 9 year old. Together with our family and our community, we will rise to the challenge by raising our fists in solidarity with the oppressed and by raising our voices to call for love and equality every day of our lives. I'm so inspired to make this journey with you. Rise up, kid. El pueblo unido jamas sera vencido.

Love, Mom.