It’s Gonna be an Awkward Family Photo this Year. (A 2016 POST-ELECTION MEMO)
We’re family. Like it or not. We’re a big dysfunctional family but we are family.
Image by Matthew Desotell via midjourney
We’re made up of orphans, runaways, mixed race, natural borns, adoptees, steps, planned and unplanned. The big family includes crazy intellectual aunts and weird paranoid uncles. An estranged cousin who went to the west coast and we rarely hear from. A gay older brother who still managed to take up for us when we were younger. A tomboy younger sister who also happens to be pretty but isn’t comfortable with that just yet. A sometimes narrow minded dad but who has the best intentions. A sometimes emotional roller coaster loving mother who worries about us. A grandmother with a thick accent who always wants to feed us and wonders why we’re not married. A grandfather who fought in a world war but doesn’t understand your world.
Wonder why we don’t all get along and how we got to be this way? Look at your ancestors.
Our ancestors are a mixed bunch. They are runaways, rebels, independents, criminals, nobles, schemers, romantics, traditionalists, natives and radicals. This country was a chemistry experiment. Unstable at times. But beautiful in its alchemy. It takes guts to try something different. It can blow up in your face, but sometimes mixing things up means loosing your eyebrows. But don’t lose your sight.
At the end of the day we’ll stand together for the family photo and it may look really awkward. But we will stand together. You don’t have to stand next to your least favorite member of the family and hold their hand. Find the one that’s somewhere in between and stand next to them. Smile or don’t. It’s just a snapshot in time.
Ours is the house at the end of the street where neighbors hear fighting and wonder how we keep it together. We put on a good face on the outside but we all know how the craziness gets on the inside. It gets messy. But it’s our mess. We throw things, yell, cry and sometimes want to run away. You wanna leave? Leave. But I bet you’ll come back. I bet you might even miss some of this messiness. And when you do, the door will be open because it’s your home.
- M.
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