I picked a heck of a time to run for office, as we wage “uncivil wars” on our streets and on the Internet and struggle with a difficult pandemic that threatens our health and economic well being. We are experiencing a profound change in our public discussions, for better and for worse, and desperately need thoughtful discussion about systemic racism and the overt racism of some of our citizens.
I graduated from college in 1976. I had only one gay classmate … or so I thought. Ten or fifteen years later, I attended a reunion and learned that maybe 20 percent of my classmates are gay. Of course, I know now that my gay classmates were gay when they were in college, too. They didn’t become gay, they were always gay; they just “came out.” Today, almost everybody knows someone who is gay or lesbian. That’s a good thing, I think.
The Friday after Trump was elected, while upstairs looking for socks, I suddenly began to sob. Huge, wracking sobs that shocked my family into silence. There was nothing new since the horror of Tuesday night and the silent, stunned Metra ride into work on Wednesday morning. Nothing specifically different at that moment. Why did it hit me then, I wondered?
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