EDITOR’S NOTEBOOK: Gratitude, now more than ever

I was born on July 26, 1992 in the St. Luke’s Roosevelt Hospital Center in Manhattan at around four in the afternoon. The weather was mild, a balmy 75 degrees, much cooler than summer days in the city today.

I weighed about two pounds, six ounces; I was born two months early.

The other day, my mom told me that for weeks, she would get up every two hours to breastfeed me after she brought me home from the NICU. She got up every two hours to keep me alive. Can you imagine?

This Thanksgiving season, I know many of us will still be reeling from the results of the election. Some of us may be going home or visiting family who voted directly against our rights and our safety. It’s a time fraught with anxiety.

But I’m working on grounding myself in gratitude.

I’m only here because of the great care the nurses and doctors at the hospital took to deliver me and care for me in the NICU. I’m only here because my mom woke up every two hours to feed me, nourish me.

I have a house because of the hard work of my partner, but also because of the help we got from my parents and Sam’s grandparents.

I went to college because my dad worked long, hard, thankless hours — seven days a week — at the restaurant for 20 years.

Sam and I have a loving marriage because in 1967, Mildred Jeter and Richard Loving fought against all odds to show the world that their love deserved the same rights as others.

I’m able to live in this country because in 1898, Wong Kim Ark, a Chinese American, took his fight for citizenship to the Supreme Court, ultimately winning his case, cementing the idea that anyone born on US soil is an American citizen regardless of race.

I can vote because in the late 19^th Century, women across the country fought for the right to cast ballots alongside men on Election Day. And we would be remiss to exclude the further work of Black, Latina, Native and Asian women decades later, which resulted in voting rights for them too.

I am here, alive, and thriving thanks to the hard work, dedication and bravery of those who came before me. The summation of all of their efforts cast echoes throughout my life today.

So as you all travel this week and move through the world, I encourage you to dig deep, root yourselves in the past and toil in the soil. Uncover what seeds were planted long before you sprouted that eventually produced the fruit of your life.

Because as dark as the days may seem, the ancestors have always looked out for us, and you and your life are so much more strange and beautiful than what they could have ever imagined.