I cried last night when I heard that Ruth Bader Ginsberg died, and I keep crying. That’s surprised me. It’s not that I expected her to live forever. It’s just that she’s always been there. In my lifetime and awareness of the Supreme Court, RBG was the Supreme Court.
It pissed me off that we can’t just celebrate her life, that we have to be afraid that her seat will be taken by someone who will do damage to everything she stood for.
But with the loss, I also felt her spirit.
I felt a righteous anger low in my belly. I felt her legacy being passed on to all of us who embraced it. RBG wouldn’t have been afraid, and even if she was, she would have just keep fighting. Now it’s my turn, our turn to pick up the sword. To keep that legacy going in whatever way we can.
Nothing stopped RBG, even in death she lives on. She showed me what one woman could do. She showed me the power of persistence, the power of dissent.
I keep thinking of the myth of how Judy Garland’s death sparked the Stonewall Riots. I love the idea that by living our lives to the fullest we can inspire people in our death.
It makes me hopeful about what Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s death will bring to on.