Calm Yourselves

My tone was wrong, but my meaning was right.

On election night, when it became clear what was about to happen, I posted two words on Facebook. Two words that, in hindsight, carried far more weight than I intended. Two words that cost me a few acquaintances, strained an old friendship, and made it clear that even the most carefully chosen language can land like a brick when people are frightened.

“Calm yourselves.”

That was the whole message: no lecture, no finger-wagging, just a plea.

I wrote it when the numbers were sitting at about 98 percent certainty that Donald Trump would return to the White House over Vice President Harris. Anyone paying attention over the last decade knew this moment was possible, even predictable. You could feel it coming like a cold front pressing against your windows, long before the first flake falls.

I wasn’t flippant. I wasn’t trying to diminish anyone’s fear or anger. What I meant was simple: we were witnessing the arrival of something that had been marching toward us for years. And once it arrived, we would have to decide how to conduct ourselves in the aftermath.

I misread the moment in one important way.