September 5, 2017… Day 229
So much of the country is hurting, between DACA, Harvey, Irma, and this:
Wild fire map courtesy of OregonLive, which does a nice job with this. It’s interactive and frequently updated.
Ash and smoke in Seattle. People of all walks of life are stricken over DACA — even in these days of people being generally stricken, this stands out. I heard university student bodies were walking off campuses and merging with other student bodies, aggregating like slime mold. Good.
I’m so sick of the Trump administration, I’ve even lost my appetite for the White House Press Briefings. And you know I love watching those.
Sessions grinned today, talking about rolling back DACA. His eyes glittered merrily.
My community organizer friend conscientiously avoids daily national news coverage because it makes her too miserable — in a way, she’s become an escape for me too, because we text most days and she only wants to talk about very personalized, local things. I try not to bring up Trump (too often) out of respect for her embargo. But today she cropped up out of the blue with commentary on how evil DACA is. It probably affects people she works with, and maybe even members of her extended family. You can keep your head down (doing good, important work in her case), but that Trump/Sessions stench will come to you.
I don’t know what more to say right now. My Western Oregon friends are really hurting in a way I can understand, being from the Tongass National Forest myself. Sometimes what gives us hope, comfort, and perspective is the same thing that’s going up in flames (or getting logged, strip-mined, or sold out from under us).
I am grateful for the fellowship I have in my life.
For instance, 16 years ago, this beautiful journalist and I were feckless editorial assistants sharing one cubicle in midtown Manhattan, snort-laughing the day away. We rang in the new year together. We protested the invasion of Iraq together. If one of our moms visited, she would have to take us both out to lunch. We’ve long since gone our separate ways and she’s not on social media much, but I still read her articles in the Intercept, and I love that that’s her husband who retweeted her. (P.S. her parents brought her here from Colombia and she didn’t start learning English until kindergarten.)