Stacey Seaside

(witnessing the calculated murder of a nation)

Tears flowed; I didn’t hold them back.

The guide touched my shoulder hesitantly. She heard my quiet sobs as she was standing next to me in the auditorium, where about 50 of us had viewed a short video about the historical significance of the Capitol Building in Washington DC.

She asked me, “Are you alright, Mam?”

I saw the concern in her eyes. I quickly smiled and responded, “Give me 5 years with a Democratic Congress and administration and I should be okay again.”

She smiled back apologetically. She herded our group on through the historic halls of a building that has seen the rise of good souls and witnessed the disrespect to the rule of law with the rioting of January 6.

The Rotunda of the US Capitol building (Photo: Stacey Harris-Papaioannou)

Visiting Washington DC in March fulfilled a long-time desire. The average American youngster of my generation was usually treated to a school trip to the nation’s capital. That didn’t happen for me. For all my activism and passion about democracy the opportunity did not materialize until this year.

FAWCO, the Federation of American Women’s Clubs Overseas, of which I am a member, was holding the biennial conference in Annapolis in March. It was a great opportunity to both attend the conference and spend a few extra days in and around The District.

When I began contemplating the journey, combined with my annual pilgrimage to Florida, it was September. I was campaigning ferociously for Harris-Walz. The other guy couldn’t possibly get elected again, not after that mercurial first term. But it happened. And my joy for the journey was diminished considerably. I dreaded his presence in a place I had believed he would no longer be welcomed.

The dark clouds of doom rolled in after November 5

The dark clouds of doom rolled in after November 5. The only bright spot came on January 20. The weather was so violently frosty the Inauguration had to take place inside the Capitol Building. Below zero temperatures were welcomed on that day. We would not be subjected to volleying numbers of the crowd size of attendees on The Mall in the media for days after. The incoming administration, notorious for “alternative facts,” would not have the opportunity to twist reality into their perception, at least for this event, instead of what was actually captured in images on screens globally.

As travel time neared, the onslaught of executive orders creating chaos country wide prevailed. I was looking forward to viewing the historical monuments and buildings in person. However, I was filled with trepidation as we watched the other guy take a torch to long standing givens.

Serious planning for my days in Washington began February 1.  I did not want to go into a White House that the other guy was currently residing in. But I thought myself a fool not to view the premises, considering my proximity and the lack of opportunity to do this again any time soon.

I learned I would need to make a tour request through my congressional representative. I cheated, at first. Because I have a personal relationship with a Florida congressman, I knocked on his door. As I did not reside in his district, he told me I would have to use the Republican congresswoman who was my official representative. I did eventually get a response, even with full disclosure that I had served as Country Chair for Democrats Abroad Greece. But nothing came of it, unsurprisingly.

Simultaneously, I reached out to my former representatives in Illinois. It was the office of Senator Tammy Duckworth that came through. Her staff facilitated the tour.

Tour applications require a minimum of 30 days in advance as spaces fill up fast on the rota. There are tours three days a week, three tours each morning on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Once a tour request is confirmed, an email arrives from the White House. Within the correspondence is a link to submit ALL vital information to be vetted by security. A list of guidelines for what is and isn’t allowed is included.

Security is draconian. Instructions warned that phones are okay, but no flash photography and no bag of any kind. Hence, I wore my black trench coat with deep pockets to carry my car keys, credit cards and driving license with my phone on a lanyard around my neck. The security screening areas allowed no photos but had plenty of photos of the other guy with Melania at his side, obviously from his time as 45th POTUS.

One day after flying into Dulles from Florida, I navigated my way out of the metro station and walked the few blocks to the designated entry across from Sherman Park. There were already about 30 or so folks queued. As I was alone, it was a great opportunity to eavesdrop on  the folks around me as they talked about DC, the tour and dinner plans. The day was filled with warmth and sunshine and the line was composed of a variety of US accents from across the country as well as a mix of ages, from young children to seniors and some international visitors. Everyone seemed to be dressed a bit more professional and several of the males in line wore suit jackets.

After checking our IDs at 3 separate security screenings, being sniffed by dogs and passing through two metal detectors, the 100 or so folks on tour finally walked up the steps of the East Wing. The area was flanked with metal barriers covered in dark blue banners bearing the United States seal: “E Pluribus Unum.”

I rolled my eyes and thought “Oh, the irony.”

“E Pluribus Unum” is Latin for “Out of many, one.” It has been a traditional motto of the United States since 1776, symbolizing the union of the original thirteen colonies into a single nation. It appears on the Great Seal of the United States and on U.S. currency.

I could feel my pulse accelerate

I could feel my pulse accelerate and had to stifle my anger at the thought that the other guy is all about “Me, Myself and I” rather the great melting pot that gives the idea of America its veritable strength and hope.

On a side note, as to my animosity, prior to coming to DC, I had a mini family reunion in Florida with several cousins. Knowing me well and learning of my trip to the capitol, they joked that they would need to amass potential bail money and secure criminal legal counsel in The District for me. They were certain I would burst out impassioned against any MAGA I might encounter—elected official or wannabe king. I purposely had selected Saturday as opposed to a weekday. as I was practically guaranteed that while I was flying into DC the other guy would be headed to South Florida for a couple rounds of golf where he controlled the narrative.

As we entered the building, our first stop was  The Gift Shop. I couldn’t help but laugh that first contact was about making a sale. The area should probably be spelled The GRIFT Shop with plenty of the other guy’s paraphernalia on sale.

The tour of the White House is free and self-guided, meaning you walk through areas cordoned off but with staff on duty to answer questions. There is posted information for you to read about the significance and history of the space you are viewing as you walk through each area.

Six past presidencies were on display on the wall leading through to the interior of the
East Wing: Bush, Clinton, Bush, Obama, Trump and Biden.

And directly outside was the Jackie Kennedy Garden.

The East Room (Photo: Stacey Harris-Papaioannou)

White House Green Room

White House Blue Room

White House Red Room

Upon exiting the building, you can take a photo beneath the presidential seal.

To the right as you exit is a portrait of Obama that I learned has now been replaced.

The journey to “The District,” included visits to the Capitol building, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial and the Washington monument. These places have long been recognized across the globe as symbols of the USA and Democracy.

By the end of my first day in DC, my melancholy had taken a dive into depression as I processed what little respect there was for the idea of democracy and rule of law by this administration.

On the second DC day, I choked with sorrow over these first 100 days of 47th POTUS.

Odysseus Elytis, the Greek Nobel laureate, poignantly explored the theme of feeling like a stranger in one’s own homeland. In his poem “A Beautiful and Strange Homeland,” he reflects on the paradoxical nature of Greece—a land that is both intimately familiar and profoundly enigmatic. His work often intertwines themes of nostalgia, beauty, and the alienation one might feel even within one’s native land.​

This sentiment resonated. As the US is going through political upheaval with daily strains on guardrails long in place that protect even the most fragile in our society, I felt estranged in my own country. There is a loss of both national pride and unity.

Triggered by the reality of how far we had strayed from our ideal

Triggered by the reality of how far we had strayed from our ideal, sadness and loss overwhelmed me. I am still trying to shake it off.  I understood that the entire city is dedicated to sacrifice. Male and female patriots died to protect, honor and serve Democratic principles and rule of law which the US Constitution is based on. And today, we have elected leaders who are now denigrate democracy and disrespect our armed forces and our veterans.

Generation upon generation of Americans made the ultimate sacrifice to protect our freedoms and the ideal of that freedom. DC symbolizes the country’s history, values and sacrifices.

The Lincoln Memorial and the Jefferson Memorial insist on reflection of the words and actions of leaders who shaped the nation.

Viewing the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial gave me goosebumps remembering his “I have a dream” speech delivered just blocks away, to a nation struggling to be its best self.

Dr. Martin Luther King Junior Memorial on the Tidal Basin (Photo: Michele Hendrikse Du Bois)

The monuments remind us of our National Identity and a very recently forgotten Unity as well as ideals of democracy, freedom, and justice. In the shadow of these monuments, I felt the full weight of the ideals they represent.

Much like Athens, D.C.’s monuments immerse visitors in history around every corner. Walking through these sites, reading the inscriptions, and seeing others pay their respects make history feel immediate and real, and unfortunately, the ideals fought for seemingly fleeting, under the current administration.

The District’s monuments serve as powerful reminders of the nation’s past, its struggles, and what it once valued principles that we took as givens as a culture. As we circled the tidal basin and viewed the words of FDR carved in granite, one of my fellow travellers said that perhaps the entire Congress needed to take a field trip here to be reminded of what the country was all about.

My anguish began to morph into determination by day 4 in DC.

Values, truths and sacrifice

Values, truths and sacrifice of our patriots and fellow citizens will not be erased because of MAGA spin campaigns that make compassion for other fellow humans criminal. They hold a political fanaticism that has an aversion to the higher elements of the human spirit that will forever allude me. Why are learning, compassion, scientific wonder, the pursuit of justice the enemy? I don’t get it. Why is being kind and compassionate to fellow humans a bad thing? And yet, in MAGAville, there are good humans and bad humans and they will be sure to tell you the difference.

MAGAs acquire power by dividing and conquering. They target a somebody who is at fault for your circumstances and nurture your suspicion with blame and hate. Rather than feeling compassion for the one targeted you channel your blame and make this individual or group the root of the problem. If they are vanquished or obliterated your problem will supposedly disappear.

This is not a contest between red and blue, republican or democrat but being a kind human or being a horrible human. They try to strip individuals of their innate compassion for others by replacing it with unjustifiable fear. The brown skinned man who crosses the border in the cover of night into Texas or the Muslim woman who seeks asylum after navigating treacherous seas seeking asylum are there to destroy your way of life. They will take away your livelihood, they will corrupt your children, they will make you forget Jesus.

The other guy and his minions want to end democracy. The other guy wants to amass power in such a way that he will never have to relinquish it.

That will only happen if we let him

That will only happen if we let him.

Yes, I am depressed and dismayed. But neither of those feelings helps to protect our rights.

I am angry and outraged and in search of positive ways of challenging these feelings to do some good.

While I was still in the US a few friends reached out and asked about my social media posts–they were very obviously not political and infrequent. I joked and said, I want to make sure I get back to Mykonos without being waylaid by TSA. The last week in March stories erupted of foreign nationals being sent back home because of what was on their phones in messaging or social media posts. And today the case of Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia and due process for all is on everyone’s lips.

Now that I am safely home in Greece

Now that I am safely home in Greece, I feel I can once again use my voice.

Read that again.

I feel safer in Greece and not at home as I use my voice against those who challenge democracy and rule of law in the US.

I always believed the First Amendment guaranteeing freedom of speech was a given.

Not anymore.

My melancholy must morph into activism once again.

As I begin each morning, I do not feel I have to trudge through the muck and mud of chaos across the Atlantic.

Not because I am not in the US but because even here, on my idyllic island in the Aegean, I still have to face the daily consequences of the purposeful chaos the other guy is causing.

My right to vote absentee is being threatened by the SAVE Act that will force me to register in person.

My Social Security pension is currently in the stalled zone because of changes in that agency made by the other guy’s minions.

And my cost of living will be affected when tariffs are activated as the entire global economy will be victim to the madness.

I am recalibrating by choosing a path that excites me and ignites me to take the lead. Working with others on the ground here in Greece and collaborators from across the globe we will use our voices to point out injustice and insist on peaceful ways to change the story. The courts and public demonstration seem like a good place to start.

“E Pluribus Unum,” is not meaningless

The nation’s seal with “E Pluribus Unum,” is not meaningless. Yes, we are many. Yes, we are varied. But we are ONE.  And that is our beauty as we all strive for unity; giving each individual the respect and opportunity the country was founded on.

The deep division being sewn has torn a wedge between us. It must be bound: through acceptance and care for our fellow citizens by remembering E Pluribus Unum, from the many one.

Patrick Henry famously said during the American Revolution, together we will stand, but divided, we most certainly will fall.

Join me. Let’s stand together as Americans.

I may continue to weep when saddened by the cruelty and disrespect targeting US citizens by the administration.

But that will not stop me from standing to champion for justice, freedom and rule of law.