“Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage. Rage against the dying of the light.”
In the aftermath of something like the election, something that is going to change our world and how we live in it, it’s easy to lose hope. Things seem dark, and your mind races with a million questions of what might possibly be coming in the future. And they’re not the kind of questions we dream of asking:
“How am I and the people I love going to be discriminated against now?”
“Will the economy be stable enough for me to support myself now that I’m starting professional life?”
“Will I be able to afford to stay healthy?”
“What’s going to happen to science, progress, and the strides we’ve made on bettering energy and the environment?”
“What if there’s a war that comes? What if it’s a war of dire consequences?”
“How can we all thrive, and not just survive, under the leader we’ve chosen?”
“How can we fight back?”
It’s now up to those who create and inform to fight back and inspire others. It’s up to us to give hope and show the beauty where there seems only darkness. And since I write, I shall write. I shall do my best to inspire in all of you a spark of hope, and a goal to never stop believing in good and in what we can achieve together. To me, this day and this concept goes beyond words, so I want you to listen to the music I posted above today. Hans Zimmer’s “End Credits” from Interstellar is a track that is dark. It’s forboding and somber and swirls around you like a fog, making you unsure at first. The organ plays like death at a funeral. It seems almost overwhelming. But it’s a piece from a film that’s about pushing beyond our own limits and realizing what we can do together. It’s a piece about reaching beyond our own fear and finding the hope beyond, and the possibilities that lie there. As it resolves, it fills one with peace and a sense of benevolent finality. It’s the sense that though the path is dark and frightening, the end is something of ultimate goodness.
That’s what we must remember now. We have work to do ahead of us, and a long road to get to where we all share in each other’s kindness and generosity, especially now. But as you listen to this, and the light seems to be dying, I want you to remember that there will be more light. A little bit from us today, and tomorrow, and the next day and the next. But an ultimate light coming at the end of all this. A growth and understanding. A new day that we’ve fought so hard to create for each other.
So today, you may mourn and grieve. That is absolutely your right, and I for one will be right alongside you.
But tomorrow, I urge you, do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage against the dying of the light.
Bring it back and make it shine brighter than ever before.