Today’s Morning Buzz is brought to you by Dr. Sarah Story, Executive Director of the Jefferson County, CO, Public Health Department. Connect with Sarah on LinkedIn, Medium, or Instagram.
- What I’m reading: “Anita DeMonte Laughs Last” is the current novel keeping me up past my bedtime. It has all my (un)favorite things: misogyny, racism, exoticism, narcissist artists, hypocrisy, Ivy League dynamics, New York City and late ’90s hip hop and R&B.
- What I’m listening lo: If I could go back in time to my 20s (and let’s admit it, my 30s too) and dig into my brain and capture all of the complexities of my thoughts and feelings and put them into song, it would look a whole lot like Sabrina Carpenter’s “Short n’ Sweet.” After the ubiquitousness of “Espresso” this past summer, the last thing I expected to do when listening to this album is CRY. But, alas, this girl made me cry and laugh and commiserate with my past lives. Unexpected, but welcome.
- What I’m watching: “Doctor Odyssey” is perhaps the stupidest, most absurd show to ever sail the seven seas and I can not get enough of it. From the gold-plated medical supplies to the extreme unprofessionalism of the crew to the ridiculous diagnoses (Iodine poisoning from too much shrimp! African sleeping sickness! Frostbite on a woman who iced her breast implants too much! Someone sweating blood!) — this show has got me in its Ryan Murphy-designed claws.
I’m writing this on Oct. 30. It’s due on Nov. 1. By the time you read this it’s likely either the day before or the day after the election. I’ve been stumped and blocked a million times in writing this essay; it’s not easy to be timeline agnostic when the gravity of the season is pulling me deep down into polling methodology and brow furrowing. I’m trying to stay focused and positive — my own stump speech being a version of “no matter what happens, we show up and do the hard work” — but the anxiety is even infiltrating my dreams. Last night I had a nightmare about trying to upgrade seats on a flight using a cracked, old iPad that couldn’t register my fingerprints because I was sweating so much.
I know that we live at the mercy of a societal pendulum. I’ve seen it swinging my entire 43.5 years on earth. (Side note — remember that time in the late 90’s when we were all really into swing music? What was that all about?) Yet, something feels different right now. It’s scarier. The recent Madison Square Garden rally, for instance, was a multi-hour long stream of racism, sexism, unhealthy nationalism, and all the other isms. These isms have always been around, but it was the flagrancy of this moment that has me literally fearful. I think back to political jabs of old and they feel quaint. What happened to us? Or rather, what happened that allowed the “us” that was once whispering their hatred to shout it out loud on the world’s biggest platforms?
Last week my executive coach had me take the Saboteur Assessment. I love assessments. StrengthsFinder (Activator), Enneagram (4 or 7, depending), 16 Personalities (ENFJ-A, the Protagonist) — give me all of them. This one was new and, quite frankly, hard to confront. One of my supposed downfalls is victimhood, characterized by suppressed rage that eventually manifests as sadness, anxiety, or fatigue.
Gulp.
Accurate.
It’s starting to make more sense why I’m letting the bullies get under my skin. I AM TIRED. I’m watching the national election play out on a massive stage while, in my tiny corner of the universe, I’m witnessing parallel moments in local government. I see leaders who identify as women held to impossible standards of excellence compared to their male counterparts. I’m told it’s my job to be more supportive, accessible, nurturing — and yet, I’ve heard countless times that previous men in my position weren’t expected to do the same. I’ve received well-intended advice about how I speak (too direct or too flighty or too soft or too loud), how I dress (too formal or too casual), when to cry (never), how to parallel park, how to deliver hard news, how to look nicer/meaner/calmer/excited.
If unprovoked advice were currency, I’d be rich enough to run for president.
In my role I’m also privy to the way local leaders dehumanize and debase the folks they serve in ways I’ve never heard before, even in the most socially conservative towns I’ve visited. It’s a new era for unadulterated disgust, especially when we debate how to address challenges like affordable housing, overdose deaths, and the dystopian landscape of reproductive health. I’ve been in meetings where people don’t even use dog whistles anymore, they just jump straight back to the socially acceptable language of the 1920s.
I really want to be hopeful in our democracy. I remind myself that those of us in local government hold so much power to use our megaphone for good. I’m surrounded by amazing, human-centered servant leaders who — no matter what happens in the White House — are committed to protecting the lives of our residents and visitors. It’s just… really hard right now. And if I’ve learned anything in the last 25 years of legal adulthood, it’s that sometimes the things around you just suck. They suck for a minute and then they don’t. Then they suck again, and it feels a little easier because you are more resilient, and then joy comes in the morning and the cycle continues but the roller coaster always trends upward.
There is no punchy finish here. If this comes out before Election Day, please vote (it’s good for your health). If this comes out after Election Day, thank you for doing your part. I look forward to the day when the pendulum of civility swings back towards making good trouble and sharing a respect for humanity. Until then, all we can do is run the mile we’re in.