Their Future (is f*cked)

This isn’t the Substack I thought I was going to start after the election. I had big plans–huge plans, to use this platform to celebrate all of the successes and progress of a #KidsFirst White House and Congress. It was going to be informative, uplifting, and also funny. Because when things are going well, it’s easy to laugh.

Basically, this was what I felt like before the election:

And this is what I felt like immediately after the election:

I wasn’t just going to celebrate, I was going to use my voice and the power of Their Future. Our Vote. to push our lawmakers to do even more for kids. Push them to focus on addressing the existential threat of climate change, the public health crisis of gun violence, to defend and strengthen our public education system, to continue to fight for expanded Medicaid coverage, lowering prescription drug prices, and expanding the child tax credit and making it permanent, lifting millions of children out of poverty.

I was so ready for this. Some of my pediatrician friends and partners in advocacy suggested we might be entering THE ERA OF THE CHILD. (Spoiler alert: we will make this the ERA OF THE CHILD one way or another.)

We were going to call it that. Wouldn’t that have been fun?

If only.

Honestly, recounting Their Future. Our Vote.’s policy priorities post-election stings. A lot. Like a jellyfish encounter on an otherwise blissful hot summer day. Our kids were counting on us to get this election right. And we failed, spectacularly. We failed in ways that will affect our children and grandchildren for decades.

There is a grim reality facing every single child in this country. It’s a reality that includes rising sea levels, extreme storms, more kids with bullet holes, more uninsured children, crowded Emergency Departments, rising prescription drug prices, the resurgence of preventable infectious diseases like measles and polio, tooth decay (because… why not?), book bans, white-washed history lessons, public education that is out of reach for children with disabilities, and more homeless children with hungry bellies.

It’s not great. It’s awful, actually. As a mom of three and a pediatrician, I generally lean towards optimism. But in the interest of honesty and full disclosure, I have been struggling to rationalize, let alone maintain, any sense of optimism since Election Day (which isn’t easy when you want to put on a brave face for your kids and protect them from the worst of this).

Parents, I see you. We can do hard things. We can do this. We will do this. Because we must do this.

The only way out is through. And the only way through is together. And for those of you who have been around for a while (thank you), you know that I don’t back down when things get hard. I am not afraid to speak up, even if it is the unpopular thing to do. I will not cease and I will not desist.

And I will ALWAYS speak up for our kids. Consequences be damned. And I mean that, literally. (Someday when I am not busy explaining why polio is bad and tooth enamel is good, I will share more and everyone will understand the very real consequences of speaking up for kids.)

So that’s what I am going to do. If you need me for the next 2 to 4 years, you will find me shouting from the proverbial rooftop about everything the incoming administration and their cronies in Congress are doing to harm our kids and jeopardize THEIR FUTURE. You will find me here, on the Don’t Tread on Kids Substack, on our new Don’t Tread on Kids podcast, on social media (@annieandrewsmd), and still over at Their Future. Our Vote., Their Future PAC, and our brand new non-profit, Their Future Fund. I will be talking about this until I am blue in the face. (Will my cyanosis be from relentless advocacy or pertussis-related respiratory failure? Only time will tell.)

And you won’t just find me. Because even as a middle child, I do sometimes tire of hearing myself talk. You will find my partner in all things advocacy, fellow pediatrician, proud guncle and avid former child, Dr. Michael O’Brien. Because he is amazing and inspiring and also because we need friends now more than ever.

And don’t worry, I will still try (note: I said try) to be funny. Because laughter is the best medicine (it’s not, actually, but if RFK Jr. and Dr. Oz have their way, it might be the only medicine we have access to for a while). And an incredible thing about using laughter as medicine is United Healthcare can’t deny your claim. No prior authorization required. No co-pay necessary.

So please, join us in this fight for our kids’ future. We are all in this together.