06 Nov 2026 3 min read

Blue Waves & Joyful Blues

I want the people taking office to understand how tender those hopes are, especially for people who have learned to expect so very little from them.

Watching the Democratic wins here in Georgia and over in states like Texas, South Carolina, and Kansas, I’m thinking about the people receiving the news in whatever condition this season has left them. Some have enough energy to celebrate. Someone else might be reading the results from bed, feeling a little relief and wondering why they are (we are) also so sad.

Through my grieftending work, I’ve become so familiar with how a welcome change can bring us closer to what something cost. We get a little breathing room, and suddenly we can feel the exhaustion that we've been living with all along. We remember something we wanted before wanting it became too damn painful. I hope we can receive whatever relief is available. I hope we can breathe deeper without asking ourselves to rush past those short-of-breath feelings.

💌

"Women also broke barriers and notched historic victories, according to the Center for American Women and Politics (CAWP) at Rutgers University. In Georgia, Keisha Lance Bottoms became the first Black woman elected governor in the nation. Several states elected their first woman governors, and three Black women will serve in the Senate together for the first time in history."

I’m thinking about landing, and what kind of care makes that possible.

About being able to arrive as we actually are, with our visions for the future moving at whatever pace our lived experience allows. As a Black woman living in Georgia, I want room to welcome these wins without having to manufacture certainty about what may or may not come next.

And my attention keeps returning to people detained here. Published ICE figures through July put Stewart Detention Center’s fiscal-year average daily population at roughly 2,010 people.

In October, Georgia’s senators called for an investigation into reported medical neglect and retaliation following a hunger strike at Folkston. Behind those numbers are people whose access to care and contact with loved ones cannot wait for the celebration to settle, and action to take place.

Being people-oriented means I keep wondering how a political win will reach someone’s actual day. Whether a family will be able to be together. Whether someone asking for help will receive it while it can still make a difference. I want the people taking office to understand how tender those hopes are, especially for people who have learned to expect so very little from them.

ILID keeps bringing me back to what needs care now.

There are so many losses that these results will not / cannot return to us, and people who deserve time to feel that without being hurried into optimism. I also want us to enjoy whatever opens here, because that too is relevant and worthy of our attention.

I’m letting myself welcome the possibility of something gentler, while wanting so much more than the feeling of it. I want it to become something people can count on when they need somewhere to land.