My father built a chalkboard for us kids. Which I would have forgotten long ago but for one moment: Nov. 5, 1968, when the presidential race results coming in on our Zenith black-and-white television clashed with our bedtime.
My sister wrote: “Who won the election?” on the chalkboard and then put Richard Nixon and Hubert Humphrey’s name below them and a box beside each name.
The idea was that my parents, up late, would learn the outcome and make an X in the proper box, and we, waking early, we would see it and be immediately informed of the news.
A child’s eagerness: Tell me now. How does the story end?
In the adult world, resolution can be far more elusive.
So while the stakes could not be higher — the politics of fabrication, grievance and vengeance, shredding democratic norms or adhering to big tent Democratic aspirations and respecting the time-honored habits of democracy — the outcome of one the most acrimonious elections in American history is still being sorted out.
The coin has been flipped and now spins maddeningly on the table. Where will it fall? What kind of country are we going to be?
Though it’s not looking good for Harris, we might have to wait days for final results.
I would never be so glib as to say it doesn’t matter. Though it might be comforting — or terrifying — to look around and ask instead: What kind of country are we now? A Trump or a Harris victory would take us in very different directions. Either way, we’ll still be starting from right here, with all of the conflict and animosity raging today.
This is a struggle that did not begin with Trump, who undercuts voting, the press, the courts, civil society while routinely maligning ethnic minorities — as I’ve said for years, he is not a cause but a symptom of longstanding American inclinations — and will not end now no matter who wins.
I remember, in 2016, pondering while the vote was being tabulated, looking at the election map, seeing the divide between the blue in the north and the red in the south and thinking: “It’s the Mason-Dixon line. We’re still fighting the Civil War.”
Think about it. The institution of slavery was the central cause of that conflict. To be able to treat people as slaves, you had to deny their humanity and consider them chattel, property you can buy or sell.
Look at the top Republicans issues — immigration, reproductive choice, trans rights. They’re still busy fingering classes of people whose dignity and integrity can be snatched away.
The United States has been at an impasse for eight years. Neither four years of a Trump presidency, from 2017 to 2021, ending in the insurrection at the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, nor four years of Joe Biden’s administration that followed, has tilted the playing field in one direction or the other. It’s coming down to a handful of votes in a few battleground states. Again.
Myself, I feel a certain calm. Say what you will about Trump, for someone who has told thousands of documented lies, he can be very frank, especially over the past few weeks. Very direct about who he is and what he stands for. You can’t say anyone was deceived who didn’t want to be deceived.
And Harris — like Biden, originally an unexceptional party hack — rose to the occasion. I find myself indulging in sports metaphor: She left it all on the field. Since her boss flamed out on national television in June, she ramped up quickly and campaigned forcefully.
The choice was clear. And stark. Regardless of who wins, the hard work is still cut out for us — beginning with thwarting the possibility of a second coup.
On Monday, my mother called.
“Are you moving to Canada if Trump wins?” she asked. “Because we’ll go with you.”
“No, Mom, I’m staying right here,” I replied. “It’s still my country.”
Flight is a pipe dream. Would-be strongmen are on the rise the world over; Canada has its own rising strongman waiting in the wings, Pierre Poilievre. You can’t run from trouble. It finds you.
Besides, people rarely leave. The closest I actually encountered was a former state rep who told me she and her husband had bought a condo in Portugal to sit out Trump 2.0. I made a face.
“I plan to be on the last train out,” I said. “Not the first.”
Cowardice knows no party. How much can you love America if you turn tail and run when the going gets rough?