Election week is finished, but we aren’t
Election week brought a whole mix of emotions, from fear to dismay to distraction to relief. I’m sure I’m not the only one who didn’t get much done while refreshing election counts.
There is plenty to celebrate about the results of this election. We saw record election turnouts, due in no small part to the phone banking, text banking, and letter writing of people across the country. Participation by voters under 30, in particular, increased by over 10%. As a country, we voted out emblems of hatred and division and cast our support for science and decency. As a good friend said to me on Saturday afternoon, it feels like we bought ourselves the space to breathe.
Space to breathe feels wonderful after four years of tight-chested “what will happen next?” It’s worth dancing in the streets and popping champagne for (I danced around my kitchen, but the spirit was the same). Still, I can’t help but feel that this victory doesn’t really belong to many of us celebrating. It belongs, first and foremost, to the Black, Latinx, and Indigenous organizers who have spent years working behind the scenes to make their communities’ voices heard. It belongs to the folks who have dedicated their time and resources to building power in oppressed communities and protecting that power against the constant tirades of an unjust system. And because this moment belongs to them, it is not enough.
No single election can reverse the years — centuries — of pain, oppression, and fear that are just now finding purchase in our broader national conversation. No election can give breath back to the nearly 250,000 Americans who have lost their lives to COVID-19, a disproportionate number of whom were BIPOC. We’ve seen how divided our country continues to be on the importance of racial and gender equity, both on a national and local scale. In our own state of California, voters supported corporate power over consumer and worker rights, property owners over community members, and the status quo over justice. There is still so much work to be done.
After George Floyd’s breathless murder this summer, social media erupted with people committing to listening, learning, and doing better, but that outpouring of support means nothing if it isn’t followed by concrete steps towards change. Our own learning is not enough; we must go beyond ourselves and ask what we are learning for. If we are dissatisfied with the world we live in, it’s up to us to make the daily, slow, and often challenging choices that lead towards systemic change.
In moments like these, I look to our community for inspiration. In this election, YCore alumni worked tirelessly outside their day jobs to register voters and canvass for community-focused propositions. They’ve also started companies to close the wealth and education gaps, left tech jobs to work for affordable housing, and supported nonprofit leaders in their spare time to develop racial justice strategies. In the past few months, I’ve talked to fellows and alumni about running for office and increasing their giving budgets to BIPOC-lead organizations.
It’s ok to enjoy a deep, grateful breath, but we must simultaneously maintain — no, increase — our momentum towards change. In 2021 and beyond, YCore is making a commitment to take stronger action to support our partners and their clients and to equip our fellows and alumni with the tools and network they need to challenge power structures and engage in the civic process. As we develop our plan, I welcome your ideas and input. Please reach out to me at jess@ycore.org if you’d like to share.
As always, thank you for being a part of the YCore community. I am grateful every day to work and breathe alongside you.