On Hope
Harvey Milk was an American politician and the first openly gay man to be elected into public office in CA. He was assassinated just months after turning 48 and having spent just under a year in office He was a visionary, working tirelessly for equal rights for the gay community in San Francisco.
Anne Kronenberg, his final campaign manager, wrote that Harvey, "...imagined a righteous world inside his head and then he set out to create it." Beautiful.
Harvey is responsible for one of my favorite quotes, "You can't live on hope alone. But without hope, life is not worth living...You gotta give them hope." And that's just what he did. He gave his community hope and cast a greater vision for them.
I see myself in Harvey. He fought the good fight. He loved on people. He was effective and impactful. He was not wealthy. He did not have many resources. In fact, at the time of his death he was almost penniless, but he recognized and embraced his power. He could connect with others. He found his strength in his vulnerability. And he did not give up.
My life has been tumultuous, exhilarating, devastating, painful, and beautiful. I have a deep desire to encourage and support others, to "give them hope".
From 2011-2014 I was in an abusive relationship. I was stuck and addicted. It was shocking and upsetting to my friends and family to see me this way although they only knew a fraction of what was going on. In fact, 2 of my daughters attempted to have an intervention to force me out of the relationship.
Their efforts failed. It could've been the end of me. In fact, just as I had reckoned with the possibility that my life story would end in abuse, tragically my middle daughter passed away. This forced me to extract myself from the relationship and I decided to live. In my deepest grief, I decided to go on.
Words cannot accurately describe the pain of losing my child and the temptation to give up still rears its' ugly head, even 8 years later. But then I think of Harvey Milk.
I reach deep down and remember the fighter that I am and that merely surviving this pain will give others hope. More than that, if I make something beautiful of my life, maybe others will be encouraged to do the same.
On almost every day, I sing to my granddaughter, Lennon, "The sun'll come out tomorrow, so you gotta hang on 'til tomorrow, come what may....". I believe that the seed of hope has been planted in her heart.
