Emily Cunningham

and every time i logged onto twitter and saw so many thoughtful questions from y'all (many of which i solicited), it felt like nothing more than a constant reminder of not only the MOUNTAINS of things that i do not know, but all the answers that i do not have yet. 4/

and it's not because i don't have thoughts or inclinations or analyses to share. i do. but still, none of that feels like it stands up to the reality that we are at a moment that feels unlike any other (at least in my lifetime), trying to do something unprecedented. 5/

there is so much uncertainty. we all act like we have the answers, but there we do not know so much about how things will go or what will make things move or how to turn ideas into action. yet the scale of what we face is too great not to move. so i do. 6/

but in my nerdy little heart, i love facts. i hate moving forward from a place of uncertainty. and as someone relatively young in the policy world, i never imagined taking something on this big this early in my career. 7/

i think often what my family will do if this keeps me from ever being seen as "serious" or what will happen to my career next. because in many ways, i'm my family's best shot at economic security. if i screw this up, a lot of people i love could have much harder lives. 9/

so i shrink. i leave twitter. i retreat into my own head. i read histories of civil rights leaders + other folks who had courage and wonder if they also felt terrified and small and alone. (why do so many of those histories skip over those parts?! emo kids like me need them!) 10/