Love wins, we say, and I believe it. But hate is powerful, too.
When my anger over the sexism I’ve swallowed in the past week, past month, past year, past lifetime, bubbles up and makes me want to scream, I look at pictures of my dogs until it passes. Often, animals exhibit more humanity than we humans do.
But now I’m thinking I should be screaming more often.
I am raising a son. My God, I have a son. There are so many things he must know and do. There is so much work ahead of us.
I wish it were a better world.
Is it enough that I am trying?