America voted. Now what?

Eight years ago this month, I took a nap late in the evening and then awoke again in the wee hours, packed up some bottles of champagne and walked through Istanbul's for-once quiet streets to a fellow expat's house. There a group of Americans and their friends held a vigil through the night, drinking, eating, and goofing around, but mostly glued to the TV and our laptop screens as we watched the election results roll in back home. We got to pop those champagne corks around sunrise, which seemed utterly fitting, and as I made my sleepy but thrilled way back home, it felt like the world outside shone just a bit brighter.

There was a little déjà vu, if a lot more anxiety, Tuesday evening in heading out around midnight, already sleepy but determined to watch this year's returns until the bitter end. And bitter it was. There's already so much armchair analysis and so many emotional outpourings online, I don't really feel like opining further here. But if you, like me, believe in progressive ideals and are concerned about the effect the U.S. presidential election might have in terms of racial/gender/LGBTQ equality, the environment, human rights, global peace, and much more, you might, like me, need a little shot in the arm and some ideas about what to do next.

So I'm starting (and will keep updating) a list here of other people's writing that I feel provides one or both of these things; if you have more suggestions, send 'em my way. (Admittedly, this is an American-centric list, and post, but many of the issues we face are global ones, and I'd love it if this inspires anyone to take like-minded action in their own countries.)

Get fired up:

• Inspiring Down-Ballot Wins That Defy Racism, Sexism -- Short profiles of the nine women of color elected to the U.S. House and Senate this week, including my new California senator, Kamala Harris. (Another article has more on female firsts in this election, including the first Somali-American woman to be elected to public office in the United States.)


• Don't Mourn, Fight Like Hell -- "Trump appealed to America's worst impulses. Now it's on the rest of us to show, to prove, that this is not all that America is. This is a time when we're called on to do things we may not have done before. To face down bigotry and hate, and to reach beyond our Facebook feeds in trying to do so."


• Here's what progressives need to do to stop Trump’s insane agenda -- "We need to take back Congress in 2018 like our lives depended on it because they do."


• Forget Canada. Stay and Fight for American Democracy -- "Fighting for democracy is part of America's heritage, from abolitionists to suffragettes to the progressive reformers. Maybe you thought that fight was confined to history. It will go on."


• Autocracy: Rules for Survival -- "Believe the autocrat. Do not be taken in by small signs of normality. Institutions will not save you. Be outraged. Don’t make compromises. Remember the future."


• The Morning After -- "Let’s get off the floor and get busy." The brilliant Samantha Bee's call to action. Need further convincing that the 2018 midterm election can matter? Watch her trenchant piece from earlier in this campaign season about the 2010 midterm -- you know, the one that only 40.9% of eligible voters bothered to cast a ballot in -- and then read about some of the voter-suppression laws enacted by people that apathy allowed to sweep into office.


• We Have To Create A Culture That Won't Vote For Trump -- "We’re going to need every single one of you. Because what we need to do is hard. Very hard. We have to create a culture that won’t vote for Trump, that won’t vote for anyone like Trump ever again. And in order to do that we have to shift our focus from our politicians, our electoral college, our TV pundits—and we have to start focusing on our communities. Because Trump did not elect himself."


• Citizens, United -- "Despair is a counterproductive response. So is denial — an easy temptation in the wake of the inevitable postelection pleasantries and displays of respect needed to maintain the peaceful transfer of power. The proper response is steely resolve to wage the fight of our lives."


• Trump changed everything. Now everything counts -- "With due respect for the colored ribbons we’ve worn for various solidarities, our next step is to wear something on our sleeve that takes actual courage: our hearts... There’s safety in numbers, but only if we count ourselves out loud."

Get active:

• A List of Pro-Women, Pro-Immigrant, Pro-Earth, Anti-Bigotry Organizations That Need Your Support -- Put your money where your mouth is and donate to the ACLU, EarthJustice, the NAACP, Planned Parenthood, the Sierra Club, and other groups fighting for the rights of vulnerable people. Many of these organizations need volunteers too. (And here's a local list of progressive advocacy groups in the San Francisco Bay Area for my people back home.)


• Volunteer with the International Rescue Committee -- What better way to fight back against the nasty anti-immigration rhetoric of this president-elect's campaign than to help assist newly arrived refugees in the U.S. with mentoring and job-seeking assistance?


• After Trump's Victory, Stand With Your Community -- "If you have any privilege at all, this is a time to put it on the line, beginning where you live. Even if you don’t, this is a time to reach out."


• If You're Overwhelmed By The Election, Here's What You Can Do Now -- Volunteer. Donate. Be good to each other.


• What Can I Do? -- 10 things you can do to make the world a better place, and how you can connect to social movements that matter.


• 10 Ways to Resist Donald Trump -- From offering your skills to diversifying your media, activists share concrete actions you can take right now.


• Report Hate -- Witnessed or experienced a hate crime, harassment, or bullying in the aftermath of the election? Report what you're seeing and hearing to help create a national database and map.


• Speak Up: Responding to Everyday Bigotry -- Advice and scripts for addressing sexist and racism remarks and policies at home, in the workplace, and on the street.


• Post-Election: 10 Things You Can Do -- From educating yourself about injustice to advocating for inclusive policies to stopping acts of hatred.


• The Hope-Filled Messages Parents Are Sharing With Their Kids Post-Election -- Anyone with children in their lives can help reinforce lessons of tolerance and equality. These additional ideas are targeted at teachers but many can be adapted by anyone who wants to advance dialogue.


• The project redirecting US election cash toward long-term progress -- The Movement 2016 platform was working before this election to encourage people to give directly to grassroots organizations rather than presidential campaigns, and plans to keep doing the same in the run-up to the crucial 2018 mid-terms.


• A Guide For What To Do When You See Islamophobia -- This bystander's guide works for addressing any kind of harassment in a public space.


• A small way to show solidarity after Donald Trump’s presidential win, inspired by Brexit -- Wear a safety pin on your clothes to show your neighbors that you will stand up for them if they face post-election attacks or harassment. (Essential: You have to actually do that, or it's an empty gesture.)


• My Commitment: 25 Percent to Advance Women and Girls -- A great idea worth emulating from a writer friend of mine: "Starting right now, and through 2017, I will reduce the cost of my communications services by 25 percent for any organization that is advancing opportunities for women and girls. And if a client pays me my full rate, I'll donate 25 percent of that income to a group that stands up for women and girls."

Do some deaths matter more?

After so many years in Turkey, becoming a bit detached from developments (even important ones) back home seems almost unavoidable. I'm embarrassed to admit how little I understood last year's "individual mandate" debate and despite being a firm supporter of equal rights, I found it hard to get as fired up as I wanted to over the recent gay marriage battle in the U.S. But the news of last week's Boston Marathon attack hit me like a punch in the stomach. As a once-and-hopefully-future runner and someone who's cheered others on from plenty of race sidelines, it was all too easy to imagine myself in that crowd -- joy, relief, and excitement turning to confusion, panic, and terror in an instant.

Since this tragic event, there's been plenty of discussion about whether the four deaths in Boston are getting a disproportionate amount of attention (especially from Americans) while other tragic events happening at the same time seem to provoke little grieving. Though I've expressed my frustration before at the way both the American and Turkish press zero in on countrymen affected by terrorist acts or natural disasters nearly to the point of relegating all other victims to a footnote, I don't think nationalism or even small-mindedness are the only factors at work here.

As Joshua Keating writes for Foreign Policy:

It's not reasonable to expect people to care equally about every tragedy in the world at all times. And the fact that we tend to empathize more with victims we can more easily relate to in situations we might have found ourselves in, seems not so much callous as simply human.

Heartwarming messages of support from runners in Beirut and tributes to the Boston victims at subsequent marathons in London and Bethlehem show that the common bond of running creates cross-cultural kinship. In the same way that my living in Turkey has caused my friends back home to pay more attention when the country is in the news, I know that my past visits to, say, Tunisia and Lebanon mean that I feel events there more keenly than I do similar ones in other countries.

Rather than contempt, familiarity can breed compassion. If there's anything "wrong" with Americans, I would argue that it's not empathy we lack but the personal experience in and connections with other parts of the world that would bring tragedies elsewhere closer to home.

Be here now

Riding the train between Chicago and Ann Arbor, I notice the girl across the aisle has taken off her shoes. A tattoo on the side of her foot reads "Be Here Now."

As I gaze sleepily out the window, it occurs to me that's just what train (or long-distance bus) travel encourages: Faced with hours of forward motion along a predetermined route, with no control over where or when you stop, the traveler's mind drifts readily into a meditative state.

Light and clouds play across the sky, wind-blown leaves whip down the track, weathered farmhouses fade into the trees, two stenciled eyes gaze back from the wall of a utility shed, skyscrapers rise in the distance.

All here, now, but just for a moment before disappearing past the window, carrying with them any pain over what's been left behind.

San Francisco Saturday Night

Long, low-slung cars race down Mission Street, their drivers honking furiously while their passengers wave Mexican flags out the windows. Girls in body paint and butterfly wings pass boys in hot pants and headbands on the corner, reeling slightly from drinking in the sun. On the table, an amber microbrew and a plate of pulled pork, pimento mac & cheese, and collard greens with ham hocks, served by a forgetful Rastafarian. On the agenda, cheering men in tights, metal Ts, or just a sweat sock and an American flag as they air guitar their way to humiliation or glory. It's good to be home.

DIY Mangal

Every 4th of July in Amerikastan, we'd pack up the car and drive out to the suburbs of Sacramento to celebrate the holiday the way it was intended -- with a yard full of kegs and BBQ grills, fireworks in the street, dips in the pool, and the neighborhood on parade. Although (or perhaps because) I'm a die-hard city girl, I loved these excursions to the 'burbs. Last week, I think I may have found the equivalent experience in Istanbul.

First, you go to the store and buy as much köfte (meatballs), sucuk (beef sausage), chicken wings, and cans of Efes as you can carry. Then you walk up to Taksim, take the metro to 4. Levent, and then hop on a bus to Sariyer. (More than one bus, if you do it incorrectly.) Stay on as the bus turns away from the sparkling waters of the Bosphorus and cruises down the neighborhood's main drag, past the dusty little otogar and the dilapidated local sports "stadium," and then down a very unpromising-looking industrial road before hopping off by the sign saying "Çırçır Suyu Sosyal Tesileri." You may feel like you're walking into a construction site, but don't give up hope.

At the end of the road, there's a leafy, secluded patch of land, full of trees and picnic tables where you can set up your goods while the men working there bring you the fired-up mangal (grill) and all the plates and silverware you'll need for just 11 liras a person. And they'll clean up after you too. Just make sure not to get roped into letting the roving band of musicians play for you. They sound a lot better from a safe distance, when the neighboring group of raucous picnickers is paying their tips.

Overheard in SF

A girl crossing Mission Street, talking on her cell phone:

"I think I needed to have sex with her to see it from her perspective, you know?"

Though it's been disorienting (and sometimes annoying) to be able to once again understand all the chatter going on around me, I have to admit, it can also be quite amusing.

I can see for miles...

When I lived in San Francisco, anytime I ventured out to the suburbs, I was amazed at how wide the streets seemed, how far apart the buildings, how big the sky... After eleven months in Istanbul, I now feel that way about San Francisco itself. What I remembered as tiny alleys seem wide enough to drive a semi down, what I thought of as busy streets feel practically deserted. It's still lovely, though, even in the rain.

IST > SFO

In just a few minutes, I'll be heading out the door of my Istanbul daire (apartment) to start the long trip back to San Francisco, my first visit home in almost a year. I'm excited, of course (friends! food! drinks!), but also a bit anxious, for reasons that are difficult to pinpoint or explain. I was discussing this recently with another ex-pat, who said that "you know you've changed" from your time abroad, "but you don't know how" until you go back. I guess I'll find out soon. I hope it's for the better.

It's morning in America

Well, actually, it's not. It's the middle of the night in America. But it's morning in Istanbul, and as we watched the sun rise over the Golden Horn, we also watched Barack Hussein Obama, the next president of the United States, give his acceptance speech.

I'm exhausted and wired and still a bit in shock, and so grateful for all the Turks who have never given me a hard time for being an American--who in fact have responded with surprise and pleasure, even during this dark period for our country--and for the good company in which I watched this momentous occasion. Thank you, America, for not letting me down.

Aynı değil

I haven't been here long enough to miss much about my life back in the States, but I can already say with certainty that reading the Sunday New York Times online, even while drinking a decent cup of coffee, is just not the same as curling up on the couch with the real thing.