A work colleague once introduced me to the idea of “poop detectors.” Of course he used another four-letter adjective, which would have to be bleeped out on public radio. We worked for the same boss whose management style necessitated this kind of filtering system.
Being a very literal person, I imagined these detectors as mud flaps in front of my ears. That image has re-emerged in my mind’s eye since the November 2016 election, except the mud flaps have grown now to envelop me like a giant orange hazmat jumpsuit.
The mid-term elections are over, barring any races still too close to call, the discovery of more voter suppression, or other illegal tampering with our flailing democracy.
Yet Central American migrants continue their arduous journey through Mexico toward our country, despite growing threats to their efforts to escape even more severe circumstances. And their plight has been politicized into our president’s deplorable agenda of fear and hate.
My jumpsuit is now plastered with rampant lies, racist pep rallies, and campaign propaganda. I want to be hopeful but know that regardless of the outcome of the mid-terms, our nation’s division is being fueled by the person at the helm, and it’s up to all of us to pull it together. At least though, for the moment, the onslaught of campaign ads has passed.
I’m Paula Garrett and that’s my perspective.
