Standing on the Knife’s Edge
and Electsomnia: You’re Not Alone if You’re Having Trouble Sleeping
Standing on the Knife’s Edge
By Lisa Sharon Harper
The sky was crisp today Crisp like the apples that used to be handed out by neighbors with adoring eyes Adoring the home-made batman and robin costumes and ghost costumes and construction worker costumes Neighbors who knew your name and your story and your children and your dreams Because your dreams were very close to their own. Crisp dreams Of liberation And starlight And sunbeams And ocean breeze And waves that wash over Everything. The sky was crisp today Like the eye of a hurricane crisp Everyone is walking around Buying lattes Headed to the park Walking their dogs As if Everything is not hanging in the balance Crisp like the razor’s edge crisp On one side of the blade Life stands still in grey tones and red swastikas Firing squads and Black women paraded through the streets Behind golf carts donning nooses atop. And on the other side of the blade is another kind of crisp. The crisp of the march Pink pussy hats and banners Black lives mattering in unflooded streets Because our climate has been soothed. Blue waves rolling across Pennsylvania granite And Wisconsin pastures And Georgia’s mounds And Arizona desertscapes And North Carolina’s mountains that smoke And the women step forward in crisp white wear They flood voting booths across the country. They are the blue wave They and their allies With pens drawn they fill in circles with the dexterity of Joan of Arc wielding her sword In technicolor. They log crisp demands of our nation’s future. Never again, they say, We will not go back to the normalization of our subjugation. Never again, they say, We will not go back to teaching our daughters and nieces to play the patriarchy game To shrink their voices, their bodies, their brains, or their paychecks To be seen, but not heard To flirt to gain a hearing around boardroom tables Never again Will we teach them to place caveats before every original thought to placate “superiors” who lack imagination. Never again We will not go back to second class citizenship. No! On this crisp blue day We imagine a future together Black and White Latino and AAPI And all 500 host nations of this land. We imagine a future together Female and male And non-binary and transgender And, and, and, Standing in a circle Palm to palm Equally human Equally American Equally worthy of protection of the law Knit together Into Dr. King’s “single garment of destiny.” We stand on the knife’s edge of a new America; Poised to choose the next way of being together in the world. May we choose well. Vote.
Electsomnia: You’re Not Alone if You’re Having Trouble Sleeping
By Julia Devoney Weaver
Electsomnia is what doctors at Cleveland Clinic call it. It is exactly what it looks like - not sleeping well or at all due to stress concerning the current election process. I have electsomnia. It started about a month ago. Lying in bed, eyes closed, trying to remember if I watered the Don Juan rose I just purchased and if it’s too late to renew my passport. Did I completely fill in the bubble to the left of my choices on my mail-in ballot? What if I missed one? Will it still count? Was it necessary to scream at the old man whose beard shimmered in the sun when he passed me on the right instead of the left?
Yes, I have this recently labeled condition and the famous doctors’ recommendation of how to get through it is not working. Remind yourself that you have gotten through other elections, they say, or that it is “only four years.”1 It is likely not working because they are glossing over some obvious facts.
Let’s consider getting through other elections. I’m not fluent in political terminology, but I believe there is a principle having to do with the peaceful transfer of power. I may not know the terms or rules, but I do know that when a new president gets elected the old one leaves. I’m sure the former president has strong feelings - sadness, grief, or even regret. Maybe some have felt angry and perhaps even one or two have felt their inner child throwing a “it’s not fair” tantrum, but not one of them has encouraged overthrowing the government. At least not in my lifetime, at least not in America, until four years ago. Will it be just another election?
It's also not difficult to think through the idea of a president being in office for “only four years” as comforting. I am not a student of history, but as of yesterday, I am old, so I know some things. I have been on this planet for sixty-five years, a citizen of the United States for sixty-five years. My experience is limited to that of a primarily middle-class, white female so what I have known has carefully been crafted by a society created by white males. I have limitations, but I know four years for me is not the same as four years for a single mother working two jobs to feed her three children. It’s not the same as it is for a 13-year-old boy starting high school knowing he needs his grades to be near perfect to get a scholarship to college. My experience is not even close to the newlywed diagnosed with terminal cancer. It is not only four years.
I was a bit shocked to learn that the doctors that studied this phenomenon and coined the phrase “electsomnia” are women.2 Honestly, I would’ve expected this from male doctors. Men who are generally unaffected by hunger, evictions, or the inability to access necessary funds or acquire a loan. I don’t know these Cleveland Clinic doctors’ upbringing, their struggles, or any obstacles they may have overcome. However, the fact that they are doctors should be enough for them to understand the precious brevity of a life.
Yes, I know I’m being judgmental and there is a hint of anger in my words. Blame it on the lack of sleep.
On Tuesday I will be headed into the city to a polling site for the busiest shift of the election. I am a peacekeeping poll chaplain. I have been educated in the voting laws of my state and have received training in de-escalation protocol. The fact that de-escalation protocol was part of my training is unnerving. I am certified for this position. I have my badge in an envelope on my desk. I am praying for my own peace before I arrive at my assigned location. I can’t give away what I don’t have. I’ll be praying for everyone who comes to vote too, because I know I’m not the only one in need of peace, even if the peace is only in the moment for a moment.
Breathe.
2. Sally Ibrahim, MD, FAASM, FAAP, and Michelle Drerup, PsyD, DBSM
The Narrative Gap, as coined by Lisa Sharon Harper, is the distance between the stories that we tell ourselves about ourselves, including how we got here and what it will take to make things right. In our world today, competing narratives vie for our loyalty, dividing society and the church, therefore making justice impossible. Our mission is help communities shrink the narrative gap, by identifying core issues and building community capacity so they might work toward common solutions for a just world. Here on the Freedom Road Substack, we can converse together on ways to shrink that narrative gap and help ensure everyones’ stories are told.
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