24-Hour Coverage Pt. 2

I turned eighteen on February 1st, 2000. I had been raised as an American, that is, excited to cast my first vote as an adult. The year 2000 was an election year, and the candidates were Al Gore and George W. Bush — a gruesome year when democracy first failed. Growing up with my mother in Southern California, I was inclined toward being a Democrat. My father, however, had been a quiet Republican during that election, but I didn’t know until over a year later. Overall, the excitement of casting my first vote in an election year was far more exciting than the news that Al Gore had won. I was born queer and neurodiverse, and looking back now, I never felt like anyone had my back. But, knowing that Gore would be president was a slight relaxation because he was passionate about the environment, a value I still hold dear. But, anyone who lived through that time knows that wasn’t the end of it by a long shot.

There’s a joke referring to “hanging chads” that I don’t care to remember, because the joke was everything I had ever taught to be true about America. It is like stating that Trump was a hilarious fuck-up, when the truth is far scarier. When the election of Gore was overturned based on a recount that was dubious at best, fraud at worst, I spent the final quarter of my 18th year watching Democracy crumble. I knew I wasn’t supported by any party, but as I watched that change in American politics toward a spectacle, I felt that we were headed toward certain doom. That doom was realized eight months later, as I spent a full day watching The Twin Towers come down, and seeing…