The significance of today’s inauguration was not lost on my children. They’ve met both President Biden and Vice President Harris, along with most of the Democrats who ran in the primary. They’ve heard them all speak in person, some enough times to be able to notice when they were having an off-day, one enough to be able to recite parts of her speeches. They’ve knocked doors, mailed letters and sat nearby while I made calls, all in an effort to vote Trump out of office.
Last January we were in Washington DC, calling for Trump’s removal after his first impeachment. My children protested his deportations and family separation policies and helped shut down one of his child prisons. They fought for universal health care and tried to Stop Kavanaugh. They stood up for LGBTQ rights while he attacked them. They showed up to support Black Lives Matter when his white supremacy lead to violence. Four years of their childhoods were spent under his reckless, hateful leadership and they were, like so many of us, relieved to see him go.
Which is why I was a little surprised that so much of the focus of our day, a day spent entirely on watching the inauguration events, was on a man we’d never seen before.
It started right after Vice President Harris and President Biden were seated at the ceremony, when my son asked “Hey, who is that Asian guy behind Kamala Harris?” I said I didn’t know. We listened to some songs, some speeches, people stood and sat repeatedly. “Look! He’s still there.” My daughter noticed. Later he walked out with the President and Vice President. “Do you think he’s a friend of their’s?” The kids asked. He wasn’t interacting with them much so I suggested he might be high ranking staff or a Secret Service member.
That began a whole new set of questions, so while the rest of the viewers were watching every choreographed moment of the elected official’s movement from the Capitol to Arlington Cemetery to the White House, we were in a strange game of Where’s Waldo with this Asian stranger, talking about what his job might be and how he seemed to be everywhere.
At last it was the final leg of the motorcade parade and there was great excitement as Biden exited his vehicle and prepared to walk into the White House for the first time as President. “This is a big deal!” I reminded the kids. “Let’s watch.” But there he was again (the Asian stranger) walking not far from President Biden.
“Whoever that Asian guy is, he’s really high up to be so close all day.” Said my son.
It was then that I realized that my Asian son had been tracking this Asian man all day because it mattered to him that he was there. I wondered how often my children scan crowds or films, TV shows or classrooms for other Asian faces. I realized how hungry they must be for representation that this man, this stranger, had become their focus on this of all days.
This realization prompted me to remind them that Vice President Harris, in addition to being Black and a woman, is also Asian. My daughter’s response was not about race, but about gender. She said that she is tired of hearing about how exciting it is that there’s a woman Vice President because it just makes her feel angry that it’s such a big deal. She said the words with true hurt and anger in her voice and I recognized those feelings. As a little girl who has grown to age nine surrounded by messages that she is capable of anything it is offensive to her that it has taken so long to elect a woman into this position, it was hurtful for her to see woman after woman slammed against glass ceilings in our electoral process over the last two years.
My daughter, like so many of our daughters, wanted a woman president. In listening to all of the candidates deliver speeches and debate on stage she felt excited that some of the women candidates were more engaging, had better ideas and were ready to lead. The sting of watching one qualified candidate after another have to drop out of the race has not left, for her. Even though Vice President Harris’s role is historically significant and a huge measure of progress my daughter is unable to get excited about what she sees as a step removed from where we should be. It is not lost on her that when she heard Kamala Harris speak last year it was because she wanted to be President, not Vice President. When she sat there today in second-place while Amy Klobuchar introduced President Biden and Elizabeth Warren watched from the audience our daughters were watching, and for some of them it hurt.
We are a Nation full of little girls who have been told they need to celebrate what feels to them like a real loss. Adults created a reality where we were in such desperate need of rescue that we would have celebrated virtually any new president, but kids have different expectations. Our girls need us to help them hold both truths, that it can be both wonderful and disappointing that Kamala Harris is Vice President. It is not fair or right that it is still so much harder for women to gain power and opportunity. We can feel real grief and rage about that and still celebrate the progress we make as we fight for true equality.
We are a Nation with children who have been traumatized by Trump’s presidency. Many Asian children like mine have feared for their safety while the (former) president deliberately and cruelly targeted Asian people, refusing to call Covid 19 by its medical name and instead using the racist term ‘China Virus.’ This caused an increase in harassment and violence toward Asian Americans. In our community it lead to an environment so racially charged that I no longer felt comfortable allowing my kids to walk the dog on their own.
In his parting words this morning Trump made a point to refer to the ‘China virus’ one more time. Is it any surprise that my son was relieved, maybe even excited to watch a new president and vice president choose to sit, stand and walk in such close proximity to an Asian man all day? What seemed insignificant to me meant more to them. In the time between Trump’s parting words and that Asian stranger taking his seat behind Vice President Harris my children felt themselves become less dangerous in the eyes of our leadership and the public.
During these years Black children have watched white supremacists march the streets and storm the Capitol, emboldened by the (former) president. They’ve watched family and community members murdered by police with no consequence. Native children have watched sacred land destroyed and violence brought by the government to their communities. Immigrant children have feared separation from their loved ones. As adults we know that these are not new problems, that systemic racism, white supremacy and misogyny were here long before the Trump administration, but we can also see that he exposed and amplified those injustices in new ways. For our children there is less context. They have grown up with the volume up high and a spotlight focused on the ugliest, harshest realities about who we are. It has shaped how they see the world and probably how hard they search to find themselves in new spaces. The last four years have changed our children’s stories and if we refuse to see and acknowledge that and rush forward into a ‘new beginning’ we will cause them harm.
Today I was reminded (again) that my whiteness makes me inclined to rush when what I need to do is listen. I’d planned a day of light-hearted, relief and celebration. What my children of color needed was to see an Asian man on stage and to talk about their sadness and disappointment about what so many around them were celebrating.
Today I watched us reclaim our democracy from a fascist white supremacist. I watched the 46th president take office and the first Black, Asian woman get sworn in as Vice President. And I watched my children (kids who know and care about all that is at stake) show me that what matters more than a smooth transition of power, or military bands or famous musicians, is to be able to find yourself, your truth somewhere in the story.
