“Paranoia strikes deep. Into your life it will creep. It starts when you’re always afraid. Step out of line the man come and take you away.” — Stephen Stills

I don’t know how much I have for you today. Most of the late evening and morning has been like walking through a fog. I keep telling myself just to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Allow me to tell you a little story I think most of you already know.

In the immediate aftermath when Jesus was crucified, his followers were despondent. Their leader had been executed. They went to his tomb three days later and it seemed that someone had stolen the body. In the immediate intervening years following the crucifixion it was illegal to be a Christian in Rome. So, Christians got by through symbols so they could reveal their intentions without anyone knowing about.

Masses were celebrated in homes at the kitchen table. That tradition in almost exacting detail was replicated through the early 1960s when the second Vatican council changed how the eucharistic prayer and the mass would be said. It wasn’t until Constantine that Christians in Rome felt safe. Most of the apostles were later martyred including Peter (the first pope) who refused to be crucified standing up. He wanted to be upside down because he had denied Jesus during his passion.

I’m not saying that the Roman soldiers are coming to round us up, but many of us will be a lot less boisterous than we used to be. I’ve never felt scared before following an election. I’ve been disappointed. I’ve been angry. I’ve been utterly depressed, but I have never felt quite like I did when I woke up this morning.

There will be time to ask those nagging Monday morning quarterback questions we always ask in these moments. Was Kamala the right candidate? Was there something wrong with her message? Was she hurt by the lack of transition plan from Joe Biden to her? Would the Democrats have been better off having a clean primary process without Joe Biden? Was the “garbage” thing a clear gaffe at the end that cost her a couple of key percentage points?

I don’t have answers to those questions right now and while we should ask them in due time, I am going to ask everyone to take a step back and take a deep breath. This is collectively who we are now. It really is a matter of a few percentage points shifting one way and not an avalanche. I know it must feel like one.

There are still decent and loving people in this world. Perhaps we can develop some sort of signal to find each other in a sea of divisiveness and hate. It is okay to be sad. It is okay to be angry. It is okay to be depressed. I’m not sure which one is winning out in me right now. It might be confusion more than anything else. I still don’t know how we got here yet.

Those of us that work in education have to balance an unbridled optimism and joy that we want to share with students with the mounting frustrations we deal with. It presents an interesting dichotomy, but in my mind it is fairly easy. I am increasingly discovering that it is the adults that are the source of the frustration. When you keep peeling back that onion you soon discover that virtually all of the adults see eye to eye on what should really be done. We are just left to go with the flow in an impersonal system that has its own ways and own mind about such things. I have to practice turning off the frustrated face and switching the happy one back on.

Generally speaking, I try to be a jovial person. I haven’t always been this way. I experienced a bit of a conversion several years when I entered the hospital with a staph infection. I came out of that experience with all my fingers and toes and with a new understanding that nothing is ever guaranteed.

This is a daily battle. It is a daily battle to look at things from the bright side. It isn’t something that comes naturally or easily. Gratitude is a choice and it is one that has to be made daily. Grievance leads to anger, frustration, and more importantly envy. Envy leads to the dark side. This is where so many people are these days. Avoiding it involves seeing it and acknowledging it. It involves a self-talk that can bring me out of that head space.

The last several weeks in particular have produced three noble truths that I cannot ignore. First, I am angry. There is a meme going around where we acknowledge that both sides hate. One side hates women, black people, immigrants, liberals, and LGTBQ+. The other side hates bigots. Hate is a strong word, but the anger is palpable.

The second noble truth is that this anger is justified. I don’t think people quite understand what life is like for a progressive Christian these days. We feel that our faith has been hijacked on one side and is being mocked on another front. When we were growing up we learned what we were supposed to be as Christians. We were taught to love everyone. We were taught to accept everyone. We were taught that our love and charity shouldn’t come with strings attached.

Then, when we tried to live according to that creed we were told we were not Christian. We just weren’t judgmental enough. We were only Christian if we supported a man that represented every vice we were warned about growing up. So, that when we say we are Christian we are immediately judged by those that follow someone that represents just about everything evil in the world. Of course, we were then judged by those non-Christians that simply being Christian means you are an asshole like they are.

The anger is justified because it masks a profound sadness. It masks a sadness for the loss of loved ones that have been taken in by hate. They have been taken in by bigotry, grievance, and disinformation. I feel powerless to do anything and say anything. Decency has become a vice. Cruelty has become a virtue. Up is down. Left is right. Black is white. In this bizarro world, the ravings of a demented and evil man become virtue and truth. Of course, I’m angry. It is the stage after the anger that worries me.