There were so many days in 2020 that I should have blogged. I
don’t know why I couldn’t write about the pandemic. Hopefully one day I
will. But I read someone say they wanted to write about this week before it was too far in the distance, and I agree.
On
Tuesday evening I turned to Austin at the dinner table and said, “You
will remember this day for the rest of your life. Your children will ask
you about this day.”
“I don’t want to have children, Mommy.”
And
thus, the perspective of a six year old on one of the darkest days in
American history. This was the day the Capitol was stormed by fascists, and a not-so-feeble
attempt to overthrow our democracy happened. I say not-so-feeble ,
because we all knew these jerks were coming to DC. However, we all also thought that other than breaking a few store front shops in downtown there
wouldn’t be much of an interruption beyond that. We knew to stay away from
the typical spots of protest in DC, and who wanted to bump into this
angry, maskless, racist trash bedecked with symbols of hate and toxic
masculinity?
I
contemplated Austin’s schedule and knew that he’d be ok, because he
wouldn’t be out in the open at Sherwood, the quiet park and oasis on 9th street. I knew he’d be at science class at Becca and
Joe’s, in a quiet, private alleyway, sequestered and safe. Then I dismissed those fleeting calculations as ridiculous and slightly
paranoid, even for a mom.
When
the news of the riots at the Capitol started coming in, I was not
worried. There were but a few hundred cretons, and DC handles protests of
thousands with ease. But then it escalated, and as I tried to be present
and engaged in a 2pm meeting, I thought about Austin. I told Hayden
that maybe we needed to get him. He was closer to the Capitol than we were, much
closer. At 3pm and in near panic, I demanded Hayden go and pick him up on the Rad bike. I
tried to be on another work call. No dice. I apologized and frantically
texted Joe and Hayden, unable to shake visions of the nasty mob spilling East of the Capitol and overrunning our neighborhood. Responses were slow and when Hayden didn’t pick
up his phone, I called Joe. “He already left to return home.”
Sure enough
I spotted Hayden’s orange helmet above our gate in the alleyway and
knew they were safe. I ran down to meet Austin walking in the door, my heart pounding as I grabbed him in a hug. He sighed and said, “we only got to do
one experiment.” I didn’t stop hugging him, but I asked what Ms.
Michelynne thought of his book of inventions. "She said the carbon dioxide (for his CO2 vacuum backpack idea) would get absorbed
into the ground and help trees and plants grow.”
At
4pm, I wondered without irony or hyperbole if a military coup was
occurring. Like, the real deal that many countries I have traveled to
have had. Where was the National Guard? These fuckers had breached the Senate floor!
At 5pm, once it was clear that back-up was present and securing the building, I
started to get angry and that defines my present state.
Some of it is personal. Those of us who live in DC had a myth busted: we
all thought Capitol Hill was impenetrable. We have access to the grounds and use those grounds on a regular basis. Austin bikes in the ellipse where Presidential motorcades park. He and I race down the Hill and then take breaks half way up the north side of the Hill, because we simply can't bike the whole way back up. Perhaps it turns out that it was all based on our decorum and respect rather than security? We just never dared to imagine anything else.
The rest of my anger is the shared anger of (hopefully) most Americans. This was treasonous and hateful. This violence was the inevitable consequence of the stain of this current President's unending narcissism, racism and grift. He has achieved his singular goal of making it all about him, at the peril of 400,000 dead Americans from Covid, and, well, the future of democracy for the United States.
Austin and I went the 3,158 feet from our house to the Capitol on Saturday morning. The scene was as expected. The fortifying of the perimeter was being finalized, with visible military stationed everywhere. The 7-foot steel fence of shame that has been popular since 45 took office was everywhere.
When will we bike its grounds again? When will it return to being the people's house? Will it?
Before:
After:
