It’s the Sunday after the first Tuesday of November here in the United States and we have a President elect. We can take a moment to exhale, then we can get back to work.

There is absolutely work to be done and it is going to rely on Black women to get it done, but this morning it is okay to sit, exhale, enjoy your morning coffee and be.

Four years ago we were hit with a hard reality of what life in the United States can be, the rejection of progress and the embrace of the archaic. We’ve survived the last 4 years. Not all of us obviously, but if you are reading this then you made it. I don’t forget those who haven’t. People like one of my favorite passengers from Greyhound who died of a broken heart when it was clear we’d replaced Obama with 45. My fellow human beings on the alternative spectrum including Trans humans who weren’t gifted the chance to survive this moment. We are still here, the fact that we are hear means that we can and will fight, however fighting looks for you.

We are here.

It’s not a secret that many of us felt anxiety as November 3 approached. The prior 3 years were something that most of us have never seen in real time. We got the stories from those who came before us, but lots of you are like me, never having to knuckle up in real time. Some are like the generation who’ve come after me with even more access and privilege and more defiant. Yes there are human beings more defiant than even me.

We understood what was on the ballot – humanity. That is not an overstatement.

We had to drag it out from all of the corners of the nation and from under every rock and stream but we did it.

On Election day itself I took a moment to note the count, see how close it was and understand that there are still just as many people who hate me as will tolerate me or love me. That was unpleasant. In the days after I let that go and had….hope. I can recall how disgusted I was listening to then President Obama talk so much about hope. I was a bitter bitch back then. I’ve grown significantly in the last 4 years. I leaned into hope. I was prepared for the alternative but I leaned into hope.

Hope in this instance was not a lie.

I feel a special pride that it was Philly which brought it home for the President Elect. It all came down to Pennsylvania and the people in the City of Brotherly Love and the birthplace of American Democracy held firm. We rebuked hatred and grift and intolerance. It’s not that we changed, it’s that we even Philly have limits. While I will not forget we are the same city which had armed thugs defending he bronze statue of Christopher Columbus, but for the weeks leading into and on Election Day we were America’s last soldiers. America saw what those of us who grew up here know, bet against us if you dare and lose your money.

I feel a special pride knowing that even though the national party still looks like old America, and the President elect is old America, and the rhetoric of chasing the ghosts of Regan Democrats….the reality is this victory comes from the diversity of what the party actually is and always will be moving forward. Black women and other BIPOC organizers worked tirelessly and at the front of the pack is a young Black woman people will now look at like a King maker.

I shed tears on another election night this year. I am going to use yesterday as Election night because that is when it was clear the # was arrived. I watched as the flashing lights approached the location looking different. Looking like the arrival of the President not just Joe from Scranton. I mean, Joe from Scranton ain’t all that bad. I still hold him with the distance I hold all 77 year old White men, but this particular Joe is showing me something.

We often walk about this 3rd Rock from the sun with concrete views in a fluid world. Shit, even I fall into that trap on occasion. Joe on paper is not a person who I should be doubling down on, too many who are like him on paper are dangerous to me. This Joe however seems genuine in his intention. His execution needs work perhaps and that is true of anyone, but his intention seems to be there. I will accept it and put in the work to hold him accountable.

I shed the most tears though watching my born day twin strut across the stage to Mary J Blige.

It’s a first. It won’t be a last.

I look at Harris and realize the weight she’s going to have to carry and send vibes of excellence and strength to her. Being the first anything is a lot yet I am positive of her ability to tackle it. A Black woman born in the United States on October 20 is capable of anything.

So today I get to exhale.

Tomorrow it’s back to conquering the world.