I was born and raised in Houston, Texas. For all of my life I have considered this place home. I married a man who was also born and raised in Houston. His ancestors came to Texas before it was a state. My grandmother was born in Texas at the end of the nineteenth century and took her last breath right here in Houston. 

I’ve travelled throughout the United States and to other countries and each time I have returned I have felt a sense of joy and security in being back home. I love my neighbors and most of the people I encounter in my city, but of late I find myself wondering if I want to be here anymore. I no longer have the feeling that I belong in this place since my votes are mostly overridden by voters who back individuals with whom my views are diametrically opposed. More and more often I wonder if it’s finally time to strike out for a new location where lawmakers seem to be kinder and more advanced in their thinking. I wonder if the Texas that I once felt so comfortable in will ever be the same. Somehow the laws being foisted on the citizenry fly in the face everything that I hold sacred. 

I finally got representation from a Congressperson who responds to my inquiries and votes for the issues in which I believe. Now even this is being threatened by a ridiculously outrageous decision by our governor to gerrymander the districts to insure that Republicans win five more Congressional seats in the midterm elections. I seriously can’t believe how the awful people running our state get reelected over and over again when they do nothing of merit for the people. 

They seem to think that it is a good idea to give thousands of dollars to families that want to send their children to private schools. They insist on banning books and putting the ten commandments on view in every classroom. They withhold funds for Houston seemingly out of vengeance for the many Democrats who are voted into our local offices. They took over our school district with a man of questionable credentials who has run off many of the finest teachers with his absurd ideas. I could go on and on but the point is that I feel as though I do not matter in my state anymore. I am invisible and made so purposely. 

I suppose that given my age it is most likely that I will endure my anonymity and use it to hide out until I draw my last breath. The idea of picking up stakes when I have so much invested in Texas is frightening. The places where I might like to live are so far away from the people that I love and so I suppose that my fate will be to simply endure the political environment that is so distasteful to me. My only hope is that eventually this too will pass. I want to believe that it will before I move on to my eternal reward. 

The majority of my grandchildren are looking for greener pastures and I can’t say that I blame them. Maybe I will be able to take turns visiting them in places where I feel more comfortable. I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself so that will mean only short moments of respite from the ugliness of Texas politics that makes me so incredibly sad. 

I used to boast about my home wherever I travelled. I spoke of the good people in my state and the landscape that represents so many different ecosystems. I felt that my voice was important to the state representatives and that my concerns were being addressed. I lulled myself into a kind of slumber during which I was not seeing how the changes were creating a Texas that is anathema to me. When I ultimately realized what had happened it was too late to stop the madness. Now so many of my fellow Texans just pull the R levers without really understanding what each of the individuals plan to do. 

I haven’t completely lost hope. I continue to have a bit of Pollyanna in me. Still, I find myself wondering what it would be like to live in Illinois or Colorado. I visit New York City and feel so at home. I imagine myself in Minnesota or even California, which is ironic given that I prayed to get back to Texas when I lived there as a child. If I really get carried away I think of how lovely it would be to live in Ireland or England or Canada. I always enjoy being in those places and feel the tug of my ancestors who came to America from there. Still, I know that being on a vacation is not the same as living somewhere for days and months and years. Reality always sets in when I concoct such dreams.

I am inching toward my eighties and at my age understand that there are no guarantees regarding how much longer I will be healthy or even alive. Considering a major move seems somehow silly and so I will have to find ways to deal with the sorrow that I feel in losing the Texas that I once knew. I felt so much better when I believed that I was living in a wonderful place with so many opportunities. Now I have seen the underbelly of my state and it is difficult to view. That gives me only the option of doing my best to rally around the good Texans attempting to bring our precious state back to a focus on all of its citizens. I suspect that there are more people like me than I can even imagine. it’s time to find them and rally with then until we fix the mess that has been made. We are Texans. Surely we can do this instead of just giving up and moving away. Time to quit crying and get to work. I don’t have a moment to lose.