Election Day: Liberating from the Binary or simply My Baby Cousin should have been 25 years old today. Full Stop.

It’s hard to believe it’s been years since that night, yet it feels like it just happened. The memory of my cousin’s face, so full of potential, still lingers in my mind. Ismail Majid, 17 is now an Ancestor. He was only 17, ready to step into the next chapter of his life, college-bound, a senior in high school who was finding his own voice and slowly showing it to us. It was a dreary evening in 2016, and I was already exhausted, balancing my first year as a teacher in the New York City Public School system with evening classes as a New York City Teaching Fellow. I remember commuting from the South Bronx to my courses at Hunter College and still having to travel further to South Ozone Park Queens, feeling drained from the weight that year had placed on my family. We’d experienced over five losses back to back—it was like life kept pouring sorrow on us.

That night, as I left class, I felt the familiar ache of exhaustion as I started my journey home, not knowing how much heavier the night would get. The news hit me like a sledgehammer: my baby cousin had been shot. He was gone. Just like that. The numbness set in immediately, shielding me, because I didn’t know how to process a pain this sharp. I had seen him just the weekend before, heard him talk about how excited he was to graduate, to move forward, to create a life. And now that life was stolen. Lost. As I traveled home in a daze, I remember that night’s election results rolling in, the news that Trump had been declared president. I couldn’t even process it. I was spent, shattered, and I had no more space to feel anything. I remember going to sleep and waking up more exhausted than I ever felt.

The next day, I was back in my middle school classroom, numb, but my students felt everything. They were anxious, angry, completely undone. They had questions I didn’t know how to answer, fears I couldn’t take away. Many of my students had undocumented family members; some had experienced harassment from ICE; others worried about whether they’d have a chance to reach their dreams. In their eyes, I saw reflections of the same dread I was feeling. What future was left for them, for all of us, in a world that felt so hostile, so brutal? How do we remain resilient and ready as the invisible in society? What radical imagination must we necessitate in order to move forward when results are grim?

I was a burnt-out twenty-something, carrying the heavy burden of grief that seemed to cloud every aspect of my life. However, amidst the darkness, I discovered a glimmer of strength that emanated from the very reasons that kept me going. It was for my students, for my beloved family, and for the community that I found the resilience to push forward. While voting stood as a crucial pillar of our democratic society, I came to realize that it was merely a fragment of the larger picture – a mere cog in the wheel of the revolution we yearned for.

Every day in my classroom, I witnessed the profound impact of genuine education and community building. It was in those moments of connection, in the bonds we forged, and in the unwavering support we provided for one another that I saw the true essence of transformation. Voting, though significant, was just the beginning. The real change, the real revolution, resided in the collective efforts we put into nurturing a just and sustainable future for all.

I understood that while voting granted us a sense of agency, the true essence of progress lay in the continuous dedication to creating a world where justice and equality thrived. It demanded our active participation in shaping a future that was not only livable but also equitable for generations to come. The path to a better tomorrow was paved with the bricks of education, community engagement, and the unwavering commitment to stand by each other's side through thick and thin.

This experience taught me to see beyond the singular act of voting and to recognize the deeper, more holistic radical change we need for true liberation. As Audre Lorde reminds us, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” Voting within this system is a tool, yes, but to dismantle structures of oppression, we must look beyond, creating new tools and new ways of being. bell hooks once wrote about “The need for self-love as a foundation for healing,” reminding us that radical change begins within us, with the ways we care for ourselves and each other. For as Angela Davis powerfully stated, “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.”

Black radical politics isn’t just about showing up at the polls—it’s about creating spaces where all of us can flourish, unbound by the chains of systemic oppression.

We need the collective power of our communities now more than ever. As Mariame Kaba eloquently points out, in times of crisis and despair, we must allow ourselves to be radicalized by the challenges we face rather than succumb to hopelessness. This call to action urges us to tap into our inner strength and resilience, to unite in solidarity and fight for a better future. It is crucial to adopt a long-term perspective, to envision a world beyond the existing structures of oppression and injustice.

To truly make a difference, we must come together and support one another in ways that transcend the status quo. By fostering hope, love, and resilience within our communities, we can create a nurturing environment where every individual, especially the youth, has the opportunity to thrive. Our collective efforts should be geared towards creating a society where violence is eradicated, where dreams are not just fantasies but achievable realities.

Let us be inspired by Kaba's words and channel our frustrations into meaningful action. Together, we can build a world where every young person is empowered to live their life to the fullest, where they are free to pursue their aspirations without fear or limitations. This is the essence of community empowerment and social change – a journey towards a more just, inclusive, and compassionate society.

I hold my cousin in my heart every day, and I’m reminded of Thomas Sankara’s words: “You cannot carry out fundamental change without a certain amount of madness.” I carry his spirit forward by standing in solidarity with those who dream of a world where we are all free. That world isn’t built in a single night, and it won’t be built by a single vote, but by all of us refusing to let hope die.

After all that is truly the core our Ancestors' Wildest Dreams.

Today, more than ever, we need gentleness. In times of division and tension, it’s easy to fall into cycles of burnout, anxiety, and defensiveness, but we have the power to choose something different. Instead of turning away from each other, we can lean in, creating a community where healing becomes possible—not just for ourselves but for everyone around us. We can choose to reject the urgency of constant productivity, the drive that often leads us to disconnect from the fullness of being human, and instead, commit to a pace that honors our need for rest, reflection, and connection. I am so grateful to be working from home today and not having to go in to class today. The invisible labor of hustling and bustling puts a drain on the state of simply being.

Let today be a reminder that true strength lies in the care we extend to one another. When we replace judgment with empathy and assumptions with listening, we can foster a sense of belonging that nourishes everyone. In community, we can find rest from the demands and traumas that weigh us down. We can build spaces where it’s okay to feel deeply, to acknowledge pain and joy alike, and to let our vulnerabilities be seen. Rather than distancing ourselves from one another, we have the chance to draw closer, finding strength in shared struggles and wisdom in collective care.

Election Day, especially with any connotation of Trump, will always be a reminder for me that, above all, at the end of the day, my baby cousin should have lived to get through college, find his passions, and participate in society. I am a Black woman a part of an Independent Party, the Green Party and as an educator, I would like to provide a brief reasoning of why I would be Green Party and why the Democratic Party does not align with my personal visions. Afterall, I have deemed this a safe space for learning:

The Green Party's core principles might resonate with my values in areas like social justice, community building, and holistic approaches to systemic change. Their commitment to environmental sustainability, social equity, and grassroots democracy often aligns with those seeking transformative change rooted in human connection and care for the Earth. I am committed to a PLACE for my descendants in real-time.

For instance, the Green Party emphasizes environmental justice as not just a matter of ecology but of equitable access to clean air, water, and land, especially in historically marginalized communities. This intersectional approach can resonate with some Black feminists perspective, which often links social, racial, and environmental justice. There are many intersections of the theme of motherhood, the Earth, and cycles as life-affirming and sustainable and as a site of resistance.

The party’s advocacy for community-centered solutions over top-down governance reflects a commitment to empowering local communities. This aligns with values of collective care, empathy, and creating spaces for all voices, especially those often left out of traditional political systems. I come from a Black radical traidition via my Grandma Babea nd Uncle Abdul.

The Green Party’s stance on issues such as education reform also reflects values of accessibility and inclusivity, promoting policies that aim to make high-quality education a right for everyone. In this way, the party recognizes the importance of education in community upliftment and empowerment. As you can see this aligns with my real lived experience as an educator of students with multiple language literacies and abilities.

The Green Party supports policies for universal healthcare and affordable housing, which tie into the need for a safety net and community-based care, themes often prioritized in radical Black political thought and community-focused activism.

However you exist in this world, today and on any day consider community and the ways we are responsibile for maintaining the Earth.

Let’s commit to the kind of healing that doesn’t just patch the surface but dives deep, understanding that it may take time and intention. To divest from burnout is a radical act in a world that tells us to push forward relentlessly. I’m still trying to find the dance in the rest and the revolution.

When we give ourselves permission to slow down, to breathe, and to truly experience the present moment, we reclaim our agency and our humanity. We remember that we’re not alone in this journey, that we don’t have to carry the weight by ourselves. Today, let’s take the small but powerful steps of choosing love, choosing gentleness, choosing community—so that together, we can find a path toward wholeness.