Sheletta: We’re seeking strength in joy, not storming the Capitol

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On Election Day, as the polls closed and the national map turned redder and redder, I did three things I never do.

I shut off my phone.

I turned off the TV.

And I went to bed early.

Although talking is both my job and my hobby and I’m a night owl and a news/social-media junkie, I had to tune out.

Watching Kamala Harris lose this election was too much to take.

Her win would have meant that people in this country saw Black women not by the color of our skin but by the content of our character.

It would have signified to the world that Black women are intelligent and capable enough to hold the highest office in the nation.

Her victory would have given Black women the one thing we’ve never truly received in this country that we love so much: acceptance.

In her loss, I felt her rejection.

When they called her stupid, low-IQ, trash, it felt personal to me and millions of other Black women. They were saying that, for all of her success, degrees and connections, Madame Vice President was not enough to become Madame President.

If she’s not enough, how could I ever be?

I’m so glad though that she never stooped to their level, but the country signed off on everything Donald Trump and J.D. Vance said. Through their votes our fellow citizens agreed that the mud they slung was OK.

Black women everywhere internalized the sting of those insults; if they can talk about our accomplished sister like that, they can do it to us, too.

The name of my company is ShelettaMakesMeLaugh.com, but this was one time when I couldn’t find any funny in how I was feeling.

How was I going to show up? For my community? My children? Myself?

I was frustrated and needed to be with Black women who felt my pain.

But we weren’t going to storm the White House and try to overthrow the election in an attempted coup, like white men did on Jan. 6, 2021, after Trump lost to President Joe Biden.

We helped build this country, and we love and respect America too much to do something so destructive and despicable to her.

So I did one more thing that I never do — I canceled my business meetings and left my house to go to God’s house instead, joining the Bible study at my church, Fellowship Missionary Baptist in north Minneapolis.

That’s where my pastor, the Rev. Elijah McDavid III, quoted Nehemiah 8:10: “The joy of the Lord is your strength.”

That reminded me that in all my disappointment, I must choose joy.

If I’m sad and depressed about this election, I won’t be able to muster my strength.

If I’m defeated and depleted, I won’t be able to show up in a positive way for others.

While I’m discouraged by the results, I know I can rely on that unshakable force that Black women have always relied on in tough times — our faith.

Faith gives us the joy that comes from within and joy requires us to keep moving despite the circumstances.

One of the younger Black women in the congregation, born after Jim Crow laws, redlining and overt segregation, asked one of our elders how we’d get through this.

Our Church Mother quickly replied, “How we always have: By the grace of God!”

At that moment, I straightened up, squared my shoulders, put a smile on my face and some pep in my step.

I found something to laugh at and told a joke to lighten the mood.

Everybody laughed.

Like the scripture advised, I decided to choose joy.

I want to imagine that if Kamala Harris would look my way, she would see the glow she sparked in me.

Her success is my success.

She showed me that the impossible was indeed possible.

My great-grandmother picked cotton; on Tuesday, I picked a Black woman to be president.

Sixty years ago, Fannie Lou Hamer was shot at, jailed and beaten for helping Black people vote. That was on my mind when I went to my polling place in a majority white suburb and marked the oval by Kamala Harris’ name.

Thanks to the bravery and actions of countless civil rights warriors, I got my “I Voted” sticker with no threats when I returned to my car or crosses burning in my yard.

Even though Harris didn’t cross this finish line, I take joy in the victory of her candidacy.

I wish I could talk to her, like Maya Rudolph did in that two-way mirror on “Saturday Night Live.” I’d let her know that she did not let us down. I’d tell her how grateful I am for the mountains she’s moved that my daughter won’t have to climb. I need her to know how proud my grandmother would be for the glass ceilings she shattered.

Even as the Harris-Walz ticket came up short, Delaware’s Lisa Blunt Rochester and Maryland’s Angela Alsobrooks made history by being elected as U.S. senators, the first time two Black women have been elected to serve at the same time in the upper chamber.

We have hope. We can look at how far we’ve come as Black women in this country and be proud of our accomplishments.

I’ll keep my head up, filled with joy at our journey.

We are mighty! We are strong! And still we rise!

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To bring Black women together so that we can have a place to heal, I’m hosting a free brunch for Black women from 9 to 11 a.m. this Saturday, Nov. 9, at the Minneapolis Club. Register at ShelettaMakesMeLaugh.com.