We lost a hero last week, so now we all have to step up and fight When I learned that Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died, I was eating these little peanut butter granola bites I really like.
I immediately felt like I was going to be sick. I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat them again. The next morning, my sister sent me a photo of my four-month-old niece reaching for the image of a little woman with a bun on her head and wearing a black robe.
It was a board book about RBG. That image, more than any op-eds about what her legacy meant or how Trump and Mitch McConnell would shit on it, put things in perspective for me: Every day the future seems bleaker and bleaker.