This Little Light of Mine

I'm gonna let it shine . . .

Speechless, Heartsick and Grieving

Fearful too, but angry and determined as well

Last week, Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-MD) was Bill Maher’s guest on his TV show “Real Time”. Towards the end of their conversation, Mr. Maher asked the Congressman, who was the House Manager for Donald Trump’s second impeachment trial, what he would do if Mr. Trump were to win the 2024 election. After a slight pause, Mr. Raskin replied, “I’ll get up the next morning and go to work.”

In the moment, his answer seemed a little evasive, given the gravity of what a second Trump presidency would imply. But today, here we are. What had seemed improbable, perhaps even inconceivable last week, is now our reality.

It is in fact, Real Time.

Bill Maher’s simple question, which had seemed at best irreverent a few days ago, has now become urgent. What will we do? How can we recover from this crushing disappointment, this profound sense of loss? To whom can we turn for guidance when our guides have all been so grievously mistaken?

Jamie Raskin knows intimately about disappointment and loss. Four years ago, just days before the January 6 insurrection, his son committed suicide. One week later, the House voted to impeach Donald Trump. Jamie Raskin got up the next day and went to work.

In December of 2022, he was diagnosed with cancer—lymphoma. Scheduling his chemo for weekends and during congressional recesses, Jamie Raskin kept getting up and going to work as the top Democrat on the powerful House Oversight Committee. He never missed a vote, and presided as ranking Democrat at virtually every Oversight hearing.

Rather than being evasive in his reply to Bill Maher, Jamie Raskin stands today as an inspiration. He provides us with a light in this moment of darkness.

So what will we do now? We will grieve. We will be fearful and angry. But we don’t have the luxury of despair. Tomorrow, we’ll get up and go to work — because our work is needed now more than ever before.

This is a network of ordinary citizens. In a democracy, we exercise our power by raising our voices. To be silent is to be powerless.