this liminal space
a question to contemplate while you're waiting for the election results
It is widely anticipated that we will not know the winner of the Presidential election tonight. In fact, as swing state votes are diligently counted and validated, we may not know the official results until this weekend.
While I wait, my calendar this week looks like any other: meetings, writing, events, and the like. But a tangible dread looms large. Something feels off. Like a smudge on my glasses, distracting my mind is this monumental moment that will shape the next four years of our country and beyond.
Although I have only voted in a handful of elections—the majority of which had had “Trump” on the ballot—there is something different about this year. A decision between our current Vice President and former President means that the cards are on the table. Whether we like our hand or not, we know what we are playing with here.
In some ways, that might be relieving. There’s less mystery around what policies will likely be enacted. We know—as much as anyone can about the closed chambers of an empire—who these leaders are and how they conduct themselves. They’ve made their appeals, hosted their conventions, received their endorsements, run their endless campaign ads, and offered a case for their presidency over debates and town halls. They’ve also each served in the highest ranks of the American government—advocating for policies, passing legislation, and casting a vision of America and its future.
On the other hand, though, this transparency feels like a potential breaking point for our nation. Because we know what each of these candidates stands for, there is no mistaking what our vote is pushing forward. If Trump is elected and the worst elements of Project 2025 are soon enacted, his supporters cannot sit on their hands and claim ignorance. Similarly, if Harris is elected and the United States continues to fund Israel’s vicious attack on Palestinians and the Gaza Strip, her supporters also cannot claim ignorance.
To be sure, there are people on both sides who would be happy if either of these came to fruition. But the vast majority of people, I believe, want to see our nation and our neighborhoods thrive. While we will certainly continue to disagree on many topics and issues, most everyday, ordinary citizens want to live in a place where they and their neighbors can flourish together—where local crises can be addressed, unhoused people can find shelter, places of worship can gather believers, and the freedoms given to all people are upheld and defended.
The gift of our liberal democracy is that (at least in theory) it creates the conditions for all our proposals and paths to flourishing to be heard and honored. Unfortunately, these systems are questioned by all corners of the political arena—whether it be election integrity, manipulating weather patterns, or weaponizing the DOJ.
Given this distrust, I agree with Matthew Kaemingk and Shadi Hamid, who encourage us to consider what it means to lose an election (well). This, too, is part of our liberal democracy: conceding defeat. What kind of citizens, neighbors, friends, co-workers, and family members will we be if the candidate we support does not win? What will defeat lead us to? Violence or peace? Acceptance or denial? Love or hate?
This question does not negate the very real responses of frustration, grief, and lamentation that half our country will likely experience in one form or another. Rather, it asks us to look forward and decide what kind of people we will be if the world doesn’t end at the pronouncement of the final results.
Reading:
Ashish Varma, “Haunted By Election Day? Diwali Offers Hope for Christians” (
)Courtney Ellis, “Wings Smacking Windows: On Caring in the Face of Helplessness” (Ekstasis)
Watching:
Abbott Elementary (Hulu)
The Watchers (HBO)