Shivering with my feet hurting, my mouth nevertheless formed a wide smile as I watched the screen. My own hands grasping the sleeves of my coat, I watched Barack Obama hold his hand up as part of his swearing-in as the President of the United States of America. I blinked away tears against the cold wind, knowing that my own work had helped bring our country to this point. I had knocked on doors, talked to potential voters, and built relationships with other volunteers. After witnessing Bush’s legacy through my college years, I had fully bought into Hope and Change. As a new federal employee, I was proud that I helped choose my next boss and the leader of our government. Standing in the dead January grass on the National Mall at the Presidential inauguration – yet still too far away to see what was going on – was the proudest I ever felt as an American.

A little less than eight years later, I sat on my bed weeping. I had gone to bed before the election results had come in, frustrated but still hoping against hope. Upon waking, I learned that Donald Trump had been elected president. I feared for my job, my friends in less privileged positions, and my children’s futures. My younger son was only six months old at the time. I wrote a letter to my children apologizing for our generation failing to stop it and promising them to fight as hard as I could for better things. And I did. But it constantly felt like a failing fight, two steps backward for every half-step forward. It was exhausting and unsustainable. 

It was a relief when Joe Biden was elected, but Trump’s shadow was long. The existing oppressive systems he helped strengthen were harder than ever to change or replace. Between COVID, a lot of personal stresses and the seemingly overwhelming nature of badness in the world, I suffered serious burnout that became depression.

In the past few weeks, I’ve felt a different kind of relief. It’s less of an easing of a burden off your back and more of an overall lightening of the atmosphere, like smog lifting when you didn’t realize the air was toxic. With Kamala Harris taking over the Democratic nomination, people are excited again. They believe they can make a difference. Moving society to a place where everyone is cared for humanely doesn’t seem like such a damn slog. There’s joy and fun. Kamala Harris and Tim Walz are far from perfect (I can count the many ways), but things started feeling different in a good way.

Now, I’ve learned a lot since my Obama door-knocking days.

Did Obama disappointment me? Hell yes. Every politician does eventually. Every person does eventually. Are there things he did that I deeply disagreed wth? Oh goodness yes. Do I regret voting for him, much less door-knocking for him? Not at all.

Did we survive through Trump? Yes, my family did – but many people didn’t. Trump’s presidency broke precedent in the worst ways, setting the stage for some of the most devestating Supreme Court decisions ever. The way he politicized COVID caused uncounted numbers of deaths, which are still happening today. He encouraged and stoked hatred. When we needed to act immediately on climate change, he accelerated our unsustainability and doubled-down on our reliance on fossil fuels. We’re still recovering from his administration and will be for a long, long time.

Will Harris do things I disagree with? Absolutely. In fact, she already has. As great as much of the Democratic National Convention was, it’s highly disappointing that climate change was never mentioned by name and there were no trans or Palestinian speakers. Am I still signed up to phone bank for her? Yep.

One of the things I try to teach my kids over and over again is that we live in a world of both / and. Our world is staggeringly beautiful and pulsing with life; there is also constant tragedy. People are capable of great compassion and can also be horrifying to each other. Power can make certain things possible but also deeply corrupts. Even within ourselves, we are capable of great good and great evil. It’s our choice which to move towards every day knowing that the “and” will always be there. Part of life is thoughtfully dealing with that balance without denying either side.

So it is with elections. Our leaders will never be able to pass every purity test – hell, none of us can. Our country has made many things possible for my family but so much it’s done has brought so much pain to others – and continues to today. Our government and its leaders can do good – I’m a public servant for a reason – but also perpetuates horrifying injustices.

(Two of my favorite writers – Shay Stewart-Bouley at Black Girl in Maine and my friend Jaelynn Andrews have already written beautifully about this in the context of this election, especially in terms of their identities as Black women. Be sure to read what they have to say.)

Yet, despite these contradictions, it’s what we have to deal with. (And if you think other countries are “so much better” – yes, in some ways, but most of them also have a whole lot of far-right extremism in some form or another too.) We can imagine and dream and rant about the current systems all we want, but none of those things alone does a whole lot. Voting isn’t enough either, but it’s at least the minimum. Sitting it out just hands your power off to someone else.

Two ways of thinking about voting have been helpful for me in this election.

The first is that voting is not a marriage. We are not picking a partner for life. We are certainly not picking someone who matches all of our opinions or even our values. We are choosing someone who is more likely to drive the bus somewhat in the direction we want to go, even though they themselves will not reach the destination.

The other idea is that you are voting for a worthy opponent. If you are a social justice advocate of any stripe – climate justice, racial equality, LGBT+ rights, class and economic justice – the cause and effort will continue long after the election. Which person would you rather have to push in the direction you need to go? Which one might be at least somewhat convinced instead of fighting you tooth and nail every step of the way? We’re not expecting accomplices here or even allies. We’re looking for someone we can potentially influence.

I know I don’t want to go back to any previous point in time. America has never been great to all or even most of its people, so it can never be great “again.” I also know that we have an obligation to make it better. To both work within the system and tear out the worst parts of it. To try to elect the best of the candiates and push them to Do Better. To work in hope for now and tomorrow. For my kids and for all kids.