As a young girl, horses taught me about power and leadership.

When you swing onto the back of a horse, you can be a partner or a bully. Partnership takes time and requires humility, while bullying is a shortcut to compliance. But if you choose the latter, you should know, meanness only works for so long. You can grab the reins tighter, use a harsher bit, tie the horse’s head down, strap her mouth shut, and whip her forward. But one day, just when you think you’ve run her into the ground, she will remember she’s bigger than you. When she explodes with an unbroken spirit, you’ll blame her. You’ll say she’s dangerous, disrespectful, and doesn’t understand who’s in charge. When really, the fault lies with you—and everybody knows it. Riders with heavy hands and harsh equipment are weak, shameful leaders, capable of ruining the most brilliant, promising animal. Because you will never coax cooperation out of short reins and a gag bit.

I thought a lot about the background and who would be holding the reins for this painting, and ultimately decided to reflect the fact that authoritarianism strips you of your context. You are not free to explore your agency under this rule, you exist in a disorienting, overwhelming, colorless void, absent from purpose and connection. And while, one person may be leading the charge, the reins are really in the nebulous hands of the people willing to enforce compliance. This can make it challenging to identify immediate threats and untangle the web of power, as you are forced to fight battles on all fronts to exhaustion.

Anyway, have the day you voted for and, if you still don’t get it, go watch Spirit, A Bug’s Life, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Mulan, The Lion King, Robinhood or literally any other old school children’s movie for a simplified explanation.