Inspiring Stories from #PantsuitNation

With nearly four million Facebook followers, Pantsuit Nation has become a place for women (and men) to “gather around Hillary’s call to be Stronger Together.” Since the election, stories, ideas, advice, fears and inspirations have been posted on Pantsuit Nation’s Facebook page, opening up tough conversations about racism, white feminism, transphobia, and discrimination. But above all, this group is about supporting one another, no matter how different we are. Let’s not forget, we’re in this thing together.

The Editors’ write that in order “to accomplish our goal it is important to have a strong foundation and a common language to listen and learn from each other.”  And I couldn’t agree more. Now is the time to open our eyes and our ears. To better understand the struggles and challenges that our friends, neighbours and fellow citizens are facing – so that we can peacefully move forward together.

Below are just a few of the MANY inspiring stories that you can read on Pantsuit Nation’s Facebook page. So, whenever you’re feeling hopeless, angry, frustrated or simply overwhelmed with all that’s happening around you, I urge you to visit their page and feel the love. There’s a lot more out there than you think. 


Danielle Rumore Lundquist in New York writes: 

I need to believe that this is going to be ok. I need to believe it for my baby son and his future, my precious baby who I couldn’t look at on Wednesday without crying. I need to believe he and all the children and all the people of this land have a real future. I never want us to forget that this country was founded on the principles of freedoms of all kinds for all people. We are a land of immigrants, each and every one of us. And while the U.S. has blood on his hands (we can’t ignore some ugly parts of our history), there’s no doubt that this has been a great land for many, many years. We are all different, but we all want the same thing; we just have different ways of getting there. For me, that way is through inclusion and love. And I hope more of us feel that way than not.




Dez Caldwell writes: “This is a picture of my Nana and me celebrating her 100th birthday. She is the proud matriarch of a huge family. She has two daughters, 8 grandchildren, 28 great grandchildren and 28 great-great grandchildren. She still knows all our birthdays and phone numbers. She still cooks her own meals and gets around better than me some days. She grew up during the Harlem Renaissance and weathered the great depression. She experienced Segregation, the Civil Rights Movement, and Integration. She lived in a time when Black Wall Street was burned to the ground for being too successful, and has seen a Black man stand as President of the free world and navigate with class, while being scandal free. And this past November she was able to cast her vote for who we all thought would be our first female president. She is a reminder to me and I hope you all that a lot can change in a lifetime. We are not running a sprint. This is a marathon. We are not fighting a battle. This is a war. And we can and will win this war.”





Abby Mendez writes: “I guess I take some of the actions taken by this administration personally because my mom was a refugee many years ago. She and her mother had to flee Mexico, on foot, during the Mexican revolution. Her father had been killed while trying to protect his home and family leaving my grandmother and my mother to have to flee to safety to relatives who lived in the states. She was just a young child but has recounted to us the fear and hardship they endured in trying to make a life once they were here. She doesn’t speak of it with anger or bitterness but rather gratefulness that with God’s help, they were allowed to stay and become citizens of this great country. Today, and now with the wall and bans that are being imposed, it would have been nearly impossible for them to come, much less stay.”



Dolly England writes: “I just wanted to say “Thank You” to the lovely Jane Hendrick Seidel for hearing me at the Women’s March in Portland, OR last month. I happened to mention to my friends Mom that I love the pink pussy hat movement only I don’t have a pink pussy. About a week later my buddy Rachel Seidel delivered me my very own brown pussy hat. ❤❤❤ White women knitting pink pussy hats, I challenge you to make some brown ones and share with women of color in your life. I feel heard and it is so appreciated.”





16422990_10106285681825043_2265095178578396922_oAlaina Chavez writes: Some kid on my middle school son’s bus asked him if he was legal and if he had a green card……my son replied “I was born here idiot”…..Today at his school they were watching the inauguration of the man who made that kind of behavior acceptable…..this morning on his way out the door he asked what he should do at school today when all the idiots in his class made their stupid remarks….I told him to remember that those kids are just repeating what they hear at home and they don’t really understand what they are talking about just like their parents….he left the room and came back with his Democratic sweatshirt and he said I am not going to waste my time on ignorant people I am just going to do my stuff so I can go to college and help change things…”



Sairah Medrano writes:Whenever I begin feeling a little depressed, frightened, bewildered or disappointed with what is going on in our country right now, I look no further than my fifteen year old daughter and feel much hope and encouragement. Again and again I am impressed not only with her but also her friends and my nieces & nephews. They are not happy with what’s going on. They are asking questions, they are actively seeking out reliable facts and information through multiple sources and they are speaking up. The past few months have been unsettling for my daughter. She is half Pakistani, half Mexican. She is close to both sides of our family and has grown up with aunts and uncles who come from varied backgrounds. She has friends of every color from every faith, gay & straight. She cannot comprehend the notion of intolerance towards others but has recently been forced to realize it exists, and at times where she least expects it. She started taking a keen interest in U.S. and world affairs last year and followed the campaign and election closely. As many of you who are reading this, she was shocked and disappointed by the results. She was outraged when the recent immigration ban was issued. What upset her more was the realization that there are people she personally knows and loves who support the ban in spite of knowing that a lot of our family are Muslims. She is hurt, disappointed and angry. This past week, without mentioning anything to me or my husband, she posted her thoughts regarding the ban on to Instagram along with a photograph of herself and her Nana. A couple days later, along with a few friends, she helped to organize a peaceful protest to coincide with World Hijab Day at her school. She and her friends wore scarves and hung signs around their necks not just to show that they stand with Muslims or support the right to wear hijab but they were standing up for tolerance, acceptance and love towards ALL. They spread the word through social media not knowing how many people would actually get involved but it was very well received. Even teachers wound up participating.

16473634_10206515503286725_7171006043222882108_nMy parents are Muslims who immigrated to the U.S. in the early seventies. My father was a neonatologist and the director of the NICU in south Texas for many years. My daughter was his first grandchild and being so naturally adept with the care of a newborn, the two bonded immediately. They’ve always had a special relationship and he was so proud of her. From early on, she excelled in her studies and he would not only praise her but encouraged her to keep the momentum going so that she could do and be anything. He would tell her that she could be the President one day if she wanted. A few years ago he was diagnosed with leukemia. I recall him once telling me that he just wanted to be around long enough to attend her high school graduation. At the time he was in remission and had been doing well. This particular memory sticks with me because it was rare for him to make any sort of downbeat remark. I told him of course he’d be there, and I truly believed it. But being a physician, he knew then his time was limited. It’s been about two years since he left this world. My daughter often says she just wants to do something that will make her Nana proud. I think she already has and I have a strong feeling that she is just getting started 💪🏻❤.

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