I made my entrance to this bright world in a little hospital in Blowing Rock and grew up listening to Cove Creek gurgle by.
I rode Old Highway 421 to Boone to take ballet, tap, and jazz weekly at the Dancer’s Corner and made out with Robbie in his Volvo in Foscoe every chance I could get.
I attended the University of National Champions in Chapel Hill, camping out on the hard sidewalk outside the Dean Dome for basketball tickets, ordering Greek grilled cheese at Hector’s at 2:00am, and sweating my way through eight shows in the Lab! Theatre.
I flew away to Italy, Mexico, and New York Fuckin City, but I kept finding my way back to the Tar Heel State.
For five years, I taught fourth graders how to lose at tetherball on Seawell School Road, then wended my way out to my little mill house in Hillsborough and ran my dogs all over Occoneechee Mountain.
These days, I work out, go out, and tell stories in Bull City. I drive up Roxboro, down Mangum, and across Club Boulevard.
I’ve been to Asheville and Kure Beach and a lot of places in between, and I love. This. State.
I love North Carolina.
But today my state government voted to put hate on the ballot and bigotry on the map on May 8, 2012, and I just couldn’t be more ashamed.
pretty much
I’ve had a difficult time even concentrating today, I’m so enraged. It’s friends like you who remind me that, at the end of the day, in most people there is more love than hate. My biggest fear, though, is that this “cause” (since when are basic civil rights a cause?) will indeed be polarizing. I know that many so-called friends are choosing to disown, excommunicate, and even (egad!) de-friend me. So be it.
No one can tell me that my 18-year, monogamous, wonderful relationship with my husband is not a marriage. No one. Not even if they amend the constitution.
i’ve only lived here for a few years, and i’m trying hard to like it. but stuff like this just makes me want to move back to vermont.
It’s still going to be a vote, and we’ve got over half a year to call this the bullshit that it is, as loudly as we can. Not saying it doesn’t make me sick to think of it, but there’s definitely still hope.
During our last presidential election, Adam and I dedicated 10 hours every Saturday to going door to door to get out the vote. During that time, we met so many people that said they just didn’t care and their vote didn’t matter. We talked to them, and most finally agreed that they would go. We alone registered over 50 new voters in just a few months and (hopefully) motivated many more.
And then, on that especially beautiful bright sky-ed morning in November, North Carolina went blue for the very first time.
There is hope. There can be change. And maybe, just maybe that half a year until the vote is final- can be a productive and motivating one. God I hope so.
makes me want to puke. and move. even though i’m inspired by tami, i’m having a hard time recapturing the spirit of the hope movement.
i love you, ame. i love your love.
In all your travels I’m surprised that you’re surprised.
Never said I was surprised, Steve.