Changing the Guard

It’s different this time, don’t you think? We’re breathing gusts of fresh air after too many years of swimming in the sewer—the Trump administration, the falsely contested 2020 election, January 6th, the pandemic and then the palace intrigues surrounding the struggle of Joe Biden to step down. We have finally arrived at a place where we can stop, evaluate the situation and breathe deeply, where we can launch a campaign for president with an experienced, savvy woman in the top spot. We are not weighed down as we have been in the last several election cycles by the wounds Hillary suffered at the hands of her husband or the deep well of pain carried by Biden after a lifetime of personal loss. I empathize, but I’m ready to move on. This might be a real new beginning with a younger, more vital candidate, a tough prosecutor who can reasonably be expected to challenge the gutter politics of Donald Trump.

Photo by Andrea Tummons on Unsplash

It’s taken a long time for nominating a woman to seem normative in this country. As it happens, I’m reading Bring Up the Bodies, the second book in Hilary Mantel’s magisterial Wolf Hall trilogy. I have been airlifted into 16th century England where Henry VIII’s first two wives have not produced male heirs and have ended up absent their heads. Of all the charges levied against them— treason, adultery and, in Anne Boleyn’s case incest, it’s the little matter of failing to give birth to viable sons that really does them in. What good are they, after all, if they only carry mere girls? I’m reminded of Luca Brasi rehearsing his best wishes at the Corleone wedding in the opening scenes of “The Godfather” some 400 years later — may your first child be a masculine child. And closer to home, I’m thinking, too, of all the brittle, yellowing telegrams from my grandparents’ wedding at Webster Hall on East 11th street in 1901. Many of them said “Wish you wealth and wish you joy, may your first one be a boy.” Chillingly, when my parents were married at Ansche Chesed synagogue in 1930, the telegrams said the same thing, as if nothing had changed, as if daughters remained an unpleasant afterthought. Do not give us a girl, they said. We will not tolerate a girl. 

But now times really have changed. Kamala Harris, with good fortune and massive amounts of effort and money, will have the opportunity to challenge those ancient mysogynist mantras. She will take her place alongside Angela Merkel and lest we forget, Margaret Thatcher, as the leader of a great western power and we will get to see if she governs differently. Who are the families whose values she will promote? Will her policies take on the suffering of the planet? Will the example of her life story help this country embrace its growing mixed race demographic? And what about her international posture? Will she feel the need to act tough among the tough guys, flexing her military muscle so she doesn’t appear weak on the stage with the glowering Putin? Or will she foster a new era of compassion and reconciliation?  Waiting to see, we will need all the patience of all the saints. But first, she will need to win.

This can be done, friends. Just as Americans elected Barack Obama in 2008, they can see their way clear to electing Kamala Harris in 2024. They can send their better angels to the polls on November 5th.  Everyone has a mother and a great many men have sisters, wives and daughters. The untapped richness of the substrata of women lying in wait for the opportunity to exercise their gifts, the breadth of their intellects and the depth of their creativity has the potential for regenerating this country. Trump may be just a little bit right about one thing. This culture has been failing us, but it’s not because of DEI and it’s not because of reproductive rights and a decline in church attendance. It’s at least partly because the deep well of female talent has been pushed to the sidelines.  It’s not just Kamala Harris herself who will take the reins in January, it’s all of us who have been led to believe that God put us here to procreate and that anything else we accomplish in this life is sugary icing on something made out of Betty Crocker cake mix.  

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Many Voices will appear on the last Sunday of each month and will feature contributions from the community of paid subscribers. Please join Rosemary Starace and myself on July 28th for the second installment of our conversation “How Art Heals: Remembering Wholeness.” All subscribers are now welcome to read Many Voices posts.

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Copies of my 2019 essay collection, Twilight Time: Aging in Amazement, are available directly from me (signed) or from Amazon or your local bookseller.