It would be easy to write off the 74 million-plus people who voted for Dipshit and just sit here and be disillusioned… if I didn’t have a child of my own who has to inherit this world and live in it. But now, I’ve been sitting here, reading headlines, different publications, points of view that outline what the Democratic Party potentially did to create the total annihilation it has experienced this past week. Lots went wrong. A lot needs to change with the Democratic Party. A lot needs to change with education and disinformation and how it’s handle and addressed that will not be fixed in the next two, four, or 10+ years. But we have to keep fighting the good fight… even when those against us are just trying to kill us all.

I had the day off from work today for Veteran’s Day, as did Kaia from school. So this morning while Chris was on a call, I took her down to our building’s play room and brought along her favorite bubble machine (which I procured from my local Buy-Nothing group). I watched her gleefully run around with it and spread bubbles everywhere. She giggled, squeaked, and ran around endlessly to spread bubble literally all over the freaking room. I documented her joy through photos and videos. I stopped and just watched her in all her youth and innocence. And I just thought… she deserves a much better world than this. When she is older, how are Chris and I going to explain to her that the first presidential election she was around for, this country elected a convicted felon with a track record for spewing hate? Is this going to teach her that you can get away with literally everything you want as long as you are some rich White man?

This last week, my limbs have all felt heavier. Yet when I check my weight on the scale, I’m the exact same freaking weight. Even walking around and doing day-to-day tasks feels like it’s all been such an effort. But I have to throw myself into life and the future for the sake of my Pookster. I have to set an example for how she should be. The last thing I want is for her to repeat the line that I’ve said about my parents, the line that I read in Julia Child’s book My Life in France, which she wrote about her own regressive father: “He is an example of how not to be.” I’ve done a bit more cooking and food prep. I started reading a book that I’d been on the Libby / NYPL wait list for, for nearly five months, called Against the Loveless World, by Susan Abulhawa. It documents the life of a young Palestinian woman who lives as a refugee in Kuwait, then Jordan, then goes back to Palestine and becomes “radicalized.” I thought the title of the book was quite fitting for my general sentiment the last week, if not moving forward.

It is scary to think that today, the United States of America could be electing a convicted felon to a second nonconsecutive term of president. Even after he denounced the 2020 presidential results. Even after he’s shown clear examples of blatant sexism, racism, and classism. I don’t have a lot of hope to be honest, especially given how close the presidential election was in 2020. But, I do have a toddler who is growing up in this very divided country where her rights are eroding every single day, so I have to be optimistic for her sake. Because… I am definitely NOT optimistic for mine.

God bless, America. Sort of.

Last week after I sent my email to the executive director of the Manhattan Chapter of AFSP, she responded. She was really kind and thoughtful in her response and said she appreciated my feedback and heard everything I said. She wanted to invite me to lunch in the next month so that we could get to know each other, and also to ask me to join the Manhattan Walk committee for next year.

I immediately said yes to lunch. I think it would be a good idea to sit down with her to see what her role is about, how she got into this since she’s new to the organization, and to see what the future of the AFSP Manhattan Chapter looks like. It would be a good learning opportunity for me. Plus, her work is paid work; she works for AFSP. I’d like to see her perspective on all this. Honestly, as terrible as it sounds, I do not speak much with people who work at not-for-profit organizations. I did tell her that while I was flattered to be asked to join the Walk committee, I was not 100 percent sure given the time commitment. The idea of dealing with politics and bureaucracy at a job I’d receive zero pay for does not necessary delight my senses.

It made me feel good to know that she cares and was quick to respond. This is supposed to be a community, after all, so I’m hopeful about the future for AFSP.

I decided to write a letter to this year’s AFSP Walk director. I decided against writing anything in previous years because I didn’t want to make a big stink, a “woe is me” plea. I recognize that they’re a nonprofit, that their team is quite small and lean, and that things can slip through the cracks. They aren’t some bloated organization where people are just twiddling their fingers all day. But this time, after 11 years, I feel like my voice needs to be heard about all the little slights over these number of years.

I drafted a letter, which is currently in my inbox. I tried to word and format it carefully so that it didn’t just sound like a bunch of complaining, but was actually speaking to flaws I think the walk and overall organization has. And this is coming from someone (me!) who has been involved quite actively for over a decade. I’ll probably sit on it for another day or two before I send it and make sure to proofread it for coherency. My friend suggested that after 11 years of being a top fundraiser, I really have already earned my seat at the table whether they are willing to give to me or not. He suggested I join the board or walk committee. I doubt they will offer me a board seat, but maybe a committee seat. I’m sure there are all kinds of road blocks to pass before getting an actual board seat. But the truth is that I’m not really sure what I want as a result of this. I suppose I just want them to hear a voice from their community and address how corporate they’ve become. Even if they offered me a board or committee seat, I don’t know if I want to spend that much extra free time, of the little I have, for AFSP. It’s mentally and emotionally exhausting to think about suicide and mental health awareness all the time. And it will likely just feel like another job, just one that I’m not paid for, and that likely will not bring me joy or fulfillment. We shall see how this goes.

I’ve been an active fundraiser for the AFSP Out of the Darkness Walks here in New York City for the last 11 years. In the last 11 years, I single-handedly have fundraised almost $60,000 for AFSP and have consistently been ranked one of the top fundraisers and part of the top teams in New York City. This year, before a pending company match, I had personally raised $5,900 and was ranked third for individual fundraising. Our team raised $6,150 and was ranked 7th across teams. Despite my passionate, consistent efforts in fundraising, though, Chris and some of my friends have pointed out that year after year, something has gone wrong that has ultimately resulted in a slight towards my efforts.

When I first started with AFSP Out of the Darkness Walks in 2014, we had a real community, and people actively sought to get to know new people during the walks. I befriended the former Walk directors and people on the board; they knew me, and I knew them. AFSP acknowledged top individual fundraisers and teams in a much more prominent way that actually put a spotlight on community members. Since 2015-2016, this community feeling has gradually degraded. Instead of leaders and board members getting to know other active, top fundraisers, less is done to foster community, and more has been done to put more spotlight on corporate sponsors, whose names are already known. More has been done to spotlight board members, who are already “insiders” in the AFSP community. This is *not* how you foster community or encourage those outside of your board or organization to fundraise and participate. The way that these events are being run and how board members and sponsors are getting acknowledged, whether that is on stage at the Walk ceremony or on the backs of the Walk t-shirts, makes AFSP seem like it is becoming more like a corporation rather than a non-profit that values community. Their corporate sponsors already have their brand names everywhere; AFSP’s individual fundraisers and teams want more acknowledgement and should get it. Top teams and individuals used to get recognized on the t-shirts. This is no longer the case.

And as for my personal experience, I cannot remember getting acknowledged in person by any AFSP employee, board member, or volunteer for my fundraising efforts since maybe 2016. Previous directors always made the effort to meet me and any team members I had. This hasn’t been the case for years now. This year, my team, Team Edward Y. Wong, qualified for the Top Teams tent. When we checked in, only I was granted a Top Teams lanyard. I didn’t understand how the lanyards worked, so I assumed it was just given to the Team Captain (no one explained this to me). Several volunteers came up to us (one of whom was very rude), and said we weren’t supposed to be in the tent and had to leave. In a volunteer’s words, we were “not following the rules,” whatever those rules are because they were never shared with us. When another volunteer overheard what happened and recognized what was wrong, she went to see if she could get more lanyards. She was told they had run out of lanyards. Then, my friend/team member went looking, and she found a whole box of lanyards and got one for each of our team members. The disorganization and inconsistent messaging was frustrating, especially because it was embarrassing as one of the Top Teams who raised over $5K to potentially get kicked out. 

My team and I have also been slighted in other ways: there have been years my team wasn’t granted a sign, and this year, as many of my donors pointed out to me, our team name was even misspelled on the site; someone wasn’t even able to do a simple “copy and paste” and got Ed’s name wrong: His last name is Wong, NOT “Wog.”

As for the top fundraising and how that is calculated, it’s always frustrating when everyday community members get topped by board members and those “inside” the organization. This does not create a strong community and instead, it only serves as “pats on the backs” for those who are already within AFSP. Again, it reflects how over the last 11 years, AFSP has been acting more like a corporation rather than a people- and mission-centered company. 

I do this walk every year and fundraise as aggressively as I do in an attempt to keep my brother’s memory alive. I do it for those who are suffering and feel invisible. I do it in hopes that others won’t die the way my brother did. I have no ill intentions. I don’t have any questionable LLCs donating to me like some of the board members, who got the majority of their shady donations from these “LLCs.” All my donations are from my family, friends, friends of friends, colleagues, ex-colleagues, and legitimate corporate matches. I’ve been doing this now for 11 years — longer than anyone on Sunday’s stage has been doing this. After 11 years, it may be time for me to consider moving my fundraising efforts elsewhere to another mental health nonprofit that will actually genuinely appreciate the work and fundraising I do and acknowledge me and my team. I haven’t decided yet, but I will sit on it and think, and also look up other organizations. My main goals are to 1) keep Ed’s memory alive, first and foremost, and 2) fundraise and help others who are suffering. I could easily do that with another organization, and without AFSP.

I walked up to 84th Street this afternoon to pick up my repaired earrings from a generous and artsy neighbor. I wanted to get her something to express my appreciation and debated between a gift card to the new Salt and Straw or flowers, but in the end, I thought flowers might be a safer bet. So I picked up some sunflowers on my way to her apartment. She seemed shocked, as though what I gave her was excessive for whatever reason. But it just seemed like a no-brainer to me. She generously offered to repair my earrings at no cost with her own time and materials, so this was really the least I could have done.

The last few trips home on the subway with Kaia, she has expressed that she really wants a window seat. Unfortunately, we’re not always able to get one for her because they’re occupied. So the last few rides, she’s loudly expressed she wants a window seat. A friendly woman overheard her yelping, so she tapped me and insisted that Kaia could sit in her seat; she said she was getting off in two stops, so it was no big deal. With my permission, she lifted Kaia up out of her seat and into the window seat. At first, Kaia seemed a bit shocked, as if to say, “Who the hell is this stranger picking me up out of nowhere?” But when she realized what was happening and where she ended up sitting, Kaia broke into this huge, wide grin and started giggling. I asked her to thank the nice lady, and she said “thank you” several times before the woman got off the train.

Kaia has elicited endless smiles on the subway. She’s disarmed many people everywhere. More people than I can count on my fingers have offered to give up their seat for her, to give her Kaia’s preferred seat, to help with her. I am always deeply appreciative and humbled by how truly kind so many complete strangers are. Granted, I suppose I’ve been lucky in my life. Even before Kaia existed, strangers have generally been kind to me. People pick things off the floor that I’ve dropped. They’ve offered to help me lift luggage into overhead bins on planes or take them up or down the subway stairs. These are all reminders to me that the majority of the world means well, even when 2-3 percent of the world may totally suck.

The last several days, I haven’t been taking the stroller when picking up Kaia. It started when Chris said he wasn’t going to take her in the stroller to school when we got ready early one morning, and so he wanted her to walk. It made perfect sense: the weather was warm and comfortable, and well, Kaia can walk. So she should walk! She tends to walk better (as in, in the right direction and at a decent pace…) with Chris than she does with me, though. She barely will walk the one block from the school to the subway stop in Chinatown with me, so I end up carrying her. Then, when we arrive at Columbus Circle, she will whine and whinge when I ask her to walk just for the two blocks home and insist that, “Mummy carry you! MUMMY CARRY YOU!” So I end up having to tell her if she doesn’t walk, she won’t get <fill in the friend, stuffed animal, toy, food, treat>. When we finally land on a motivator (yesterday, I told her if she didn’t walk, she wouldn’t get to see her friend Jacob this weekend…), she will eagerly hold my hand and walk with me the full two blocks nonstop.

Today, when we got to the corner of the street with two blocks to go, she started crying and asked me to carry her. I said, no, you will walk. Big girls walk, and you are a big girl now! She refused, so she simply sat down in front of the luxury apartment building and just stared up at me blankly. I was not going to let her win this; I do NOT want her always getting her way, even if we were running late to get home today. So I did my usual thing and threatened to take all these things away I knew she wanted. Nothing worked. She just would not budge. And I was not going to let her get what she wanted in this moment. I stood my ground.

Then, a good samaritan appeared out of nowhere. A slightly older woman with a big smile came up to us and kneeled down to Kaia. “Hey there!” the woman said in an upbeat voice. “What’s going on here? You don’t wanna walk with your mommy? You just don’t feel like it, huh? Well, how about this: if you don’t want to walk with Mommy, then I can take you with me! You want to come to my dance class with me? It’ll be so much fun! And then after, I’ll take you to my house! How about that?”

Pookster peered up at her and gave her a slight side eye. Then, she looked at me to see what my expression said. I simply smiled. After a few seconds, Pooks jumped up, grabbed my hand, and we started walking. I thanked the nice woman and wished her well, and we were on our merry way home.

“Sometimes, it just takes another person to chime in for a bit, and all is well in the world!” the woman said gleefully, as she wished us a good night.

Who is part of my village? All of New York City who has done things to entertain Kaia, soothe her, make her laugh, play peekaboo with her, and encouraged her to walk with her friggin’ parents properly.