Orginally published by the Orlando Sentinel – Guest columnist
My daughter recently attended a Harry Styles concert at the Amway Center in Orlando. As required by the venue she showed her vaccine passport (or a negative COVID-19 test 48 hours prior).
Now, the Amway Center and other establishments in Florida, are under investigation for violating Gov. Ron DeSantis’s ban on vaccine passports.
When will it end? The politicization of everything vs. decisions based on critical thinking and common sense?
Norwegian Cruise Lines defied DeSantis’s vaccine passport ban. Of course they did. Cruise ships are giant moving superspreaders.
So why is our hands-off-business governor fighting this no-brainer?
Politics. And some voters on all sides are following suit.
Coming down on an issue solely in opposition to the other party. If they’re for it, I’m against it. But are they really against the issue across every angle?
Never mind nuance. Never mind science and common sense. That uncomfortable middle ground that makes our head hurt.
God help you if you ponder the practicality of mask mandates and vaccine passports in all situations. Party treason.
And when the vaccine was first released if you had a legitimate concern (vs. a ridiculous conspiracy theory) you were a selfish moron.
Where’s the nuanced thinking in statements like, “Wear masks even if you’re vaccinated!” or “Vaccine passports are like living under the Gestapo!”
On vaccine passports I’m not totally against or in favor. In other words, it depends.
I support (temporarily) requiring proof of vaccination (or a negative COVID test) at large crowd and travel venues. I support a vaccine mandate in schools, for frontline workers and in health-care settings. Lots of people, close together, spread lots of germs. That’s not political. That’s science.
But I’m against requiring them at every business, e.g. every retailer and restaurant. Common sense knows this isn’t practical. And it’s invasive. I say that and I’m a Democrat.
I support businesses encouraging but not requiring the vaccine as a contingency for employment (or a negative COVID test).
I personally have no issue showing my vax card (I have yet to be asked). It’s not like I’m revealing I had an STD. But if I had to show my card everywhere from now until who knows, it would get old. Of course I’d pull it out without pitching a fit. It’s how I feel about masks.
I hate them. Yes, we all do. But I hate masks a lot. Except I know they help stop the spread so prevaccine I politely complied.
Okay, you got me. Masks, like vaccines, aren’t 100%.
But when we scream “Masks don’t work!” we’ve willingly stopped using common sense, never mind respect for established science.
Masks do work. They help.
The word help doesn’t mean prevent. It means to assist. Vaccines assist in stopping the spread.
I’m concerned we’ve lost our will to even consider the nuance behind issues. Shades-of-gray thinking doesn’t fit into a tidy party narrative of Us vs. Them. And our cognitive dissonance is astronomical.
If a business still requires a mask I politely wear it, otherwise I forgo because I’m vaccinated. Uber still requires masks. So last weekend, I privately grumbled to my husband, put on my mask, got in the car, and kept my mouth shut about it to the driver.
I keep strengthening my immune system with a supplement regime I’ve done for years. And once the stay-at-home order was lifted in Florida in May 2020, my husband and I went out — a lot. I tested and quarantined before I visited my elderly stepmom, reminding her that a false negative was a real possibility.
I’ve tested three times including one antibody test. All negative.
Some people might call me selfish for going out so often before I was vaccinated. I’d ask them to consider what I’ve been doing to strengthen my immune system.
Either it worked or I’m lucky. I got sick plenty before I started on this regime years ago. Now I don’t. Or at least not for long.
We owe it to each other to care about the collective. We also have the right to take individual calculated risks. My husband and I are one of those messy middle-of-the-road people during the pandemic. We don’t fit one box or the other.
At this point during COVID-19 we might consider mandates in context of where and when they make sense.
We teach our kids to be good citizens and critical thinkers, shouldn’t adults do the same?
Underneath our seeping political wounds over the past 5 years is an unsettled feeling no one on either side knows how to fix.
Because we can’t. Ever.
I’m an optimist and even with my abundance of wishful thinking I’m 100% sure we can’t move past this. By “this,” I mean finding “political common ground” with Trump supporters as we’re charged to do to “heal the nation.”
Don’t misunderstand, we’ll get back to decency and normal partisan political scuffling now that Trump is (almost) off the world stage. But the Trump Factor, aka those who love him, and the rest of us, can never discuss that man again if we want to get back to normal times with our loved ones, neighbors, etc.
This may not be the feel-good answer, but it’s true.
Because if we stop talking about Trump with his supporters we no longer have to feel like we’re trying to convince people that the blue sky they insist is yellow, is in fact, blue. It’s crazy-making to see something others don’t or won’t see.
One of the greatest tragedies of Trumplandia is that there’s no going back.
Now we know who supported him (twice), which includes some of our favorite people in the world. Family, friends, our dry cleaner, our pharmacist, our sweet neighbor (still sweet, btw). For a faction of Trump supporters, it was rabid zealot love from the start.
For others it was an insidious growing tolerance for his string of horrors, a numbing effect if you will, combined with full rejection of the Democrats. Either way, sad.
It’s deeply painful that our once benign political foe, say our opinionated Uncle Frank who used to be relentless with his trickle-down Reaganism vs our grassroots approach, isn’t who you thought he was.
Pre-Trump Uncle Frank was just a different sort of patriot than you or I. Not better or worse, but with an alternate point of view about what he thinks is best for the nation.
Except now Uncle Frank thinks what’s best for the nation is Trump.
A certifiable malignant narcissistic, racist, sexist, xenophobe, demagogue and autocrat in bed with Putin.
A president for who lying to is the norm and for who using superlatives (biggest crowd!) and bullying (loser!) is used to rile and divide rather than to keep calm and inform, as presidents are called to do.
A president who on the daily panicked the world (and his staff) with rogue tweets designed to feed his fragile ego and elevate his delusions of grandeur. It’s not a good strategy to keep people guessing “What next?” on the world stage. It’s a dangerous mind screw.
Trump politically and personally pulverized his own party naysayers until they retreated or crawled up his ass. He knowingly and repeatedly downplayed a deadly pandemic, smirked while he stoked hate in proud racists, and diabolically worked to dismantle democracy.
And in his latest flagrant act of corruption, Trump asked Georgia’s Secretary of State to ‘find’ him votes.
Trump does all this with the smug conceit of a megalomaniac convinced his power transcends the sanctity of facts, the Constitution and civility.
Come on, that person is better than a Democrat?
So no, with all due respect, I can’t reconcile a 2020 Trump vote. And frankly, I don’t want to. Not out of pride, because of my moral compass. Of course I’m no saint. I don’t see myself as better or worse than anyone out there. I’m plenty flawed.
But I’m damn proud that I sensed from the moment Trump mocked a disabled journalist and said he could “stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose voters,” or that McCain wasn’t a hero because he was captured or that Megan Kelly “had blood coming out of her eyes. Or blood coming out of her where ever,” that I knew in my every cell, that this guy wasn’t presidential material.
This is unquestionably a sick man. A “stable genius” isn’t prone to referring to himself as a stable genius.
Still I’ll never show a hint of unkindness to a Trump supporter. Never. That’s just basic Golden Rule 101. Like with all my opposing views, my disgust or disappointment will never come up in conversation. My relationships are a million times more precious than the Divider-In-Chief’s dark shadow of evil (and evil he is).
It’s easy to say now that Trump’s no longer a grave threat. Although his devout will undoubtedly keep him relevant by rallying his Trumpian views and a 2024 run.
Yet I’ll never forget that Trump voters and too many politicians thought he was a proper role model for our kids. Neither would they if they were honest and dealt with their boatload of cognitive dissonance.
Trump repeatedly showed the emotional maturity of a toddler. He lacked integrity, stability, humility, contrition and a commitment to the truth. He’s nothing more than a schoolyard bully who beat the nation’s soul to a pulp. He’s a psychological abuser I’d kick out of my house, nevermind hire him as president.
It’s an understatement to say our nation wasn’t left A Better People thanks to this president. In time we became a pitied laughing stock the world over.
Lately my small church groups and I have been talking about how to heal the great divide. How we might come together. I have no doubt we can, but not in the way we did before Trumplandia. Instead of facing head-on where we disagree (about Bush, Clinton, Obama) over the dinner table or in moderated town halls, we have to pretend Trumplandia never happened.
This means we politely change the subject if someone brings it up.
Because what I’ve failed to successfully convey in five years of posting about Trump is that the problem doesn’t begin with his partisan politics.
The problem is first and foremost him. His character. The buck stops there. Trump is inherently a very bad person.
This is the sole reason I won’t talk to his supporters about their leader. Because either A) They think he’s a good person or B) They know he isn’t a good person but they don’t care.
It goes without saying that’s not a foundation for a reasonable discussion. I think he’s evil. You don’t. Exactly how do we progress from there?
So if we ever want to remember how life used to feel in politics before Trumplandia, we have to at least pretend it never happened.
Of course we’ll never fully escape Trump’s blustering that the election was stolen. His devout see him as the victimized Chosen one (some literally) and Democrats as a dangerous bunch of radical lefty socialists (despite the President-elect’s clearly moderate platform).
So sadly our Trump vs Never Trump divide will remain a gaping wound best not aggravated into further oozing infection.
So for the love of peace with our Trump-loving friends, family and community, let’s stop talking to them about he who shall not be named.
After Trump won we turned on each other and we’ve never been the same as a nation.
If we see someone wearing a MAGA hat or Biden 2020 shirt we know that person is one of them. A traitor to our values and to all we hold dear.
I don’t think I’m exaggerating.
In one night our good friend of 20 years or sweet Aunt Alice turned into either a “namby-pamby liberal snowflake” or a “heartless racist Trump-lover.”
Remember when you used to have friendly conversations with that guy at the gym and you never thought twice about whether he was a Republican or Democrat? Who cared?
But then after the 2016 election he made an offhanded comment like “well you know how it is with that lyin’ Hillary (or Trump)” and suddenly you knew all you needed to know about that guy.
Our candidate now defines who we are, or so we think.
Listen I know all the reasons Trump won. Some of it was the Dem’s fault. I know all the reasons his fans are doubling down on their Trump love. It’s what we do when we’re attacked. The more we hate your guy, the more you love your guy.
Because if we hate your guy it must mean we hate all that you stand for. But it’s just not that simple.
You’re Mars and I’m Venus
In the first year or so after the election it was all the rage with pundits and town hall moderators to insist that we at least hear each other out. The idea was that if we at least listened to the other side maybe we’d come to some new understanding (if not agreement) and stop screaming.
Doesn’t that sound nice?
In theory I still believe
that, but at this point we can’t even politely agree to disagree like we did BT
(before Trump).
The best we can do now is smile, nod and zip it. Like the Hippocratic oath, at a minimum “do no harm.”
My stepmom, a lifelong Democrat activist thinks it’s tragic that we can’t bring up politics at the table anymore. I don’t think we’re doomed to never again politely talk partisan politics, but while Trump is still on the world stage we can’t come to the table hold hands and have happy happy epiphanies about Trump vs — everyone else.
The best we can do right now is agree that you’re Mars and I’m Venus (remember that book for struggling couples?). And then we need to move on and talk about things that have nothing to do with politics.
But unfortunately the pandemic is
all we’re talking about right now.
I get it. It’s a really scary time. But even a pandemic that should have us “all in it together” has turned into another divisive political bloodbath.
Defend your values, don’t defend your candidate
Last month I told my daughter about a friend who I found out from another friend, has some pretty prejudice, maybe even racist views about people of color. I was pretty shocked and disappointed. My daughter said to me, “Mom, you need to stop being friends with her, she’s racist!”
But it’s just not that simple.
I really like this friend. She’s thoughtful, nice, a good listener and really fun. She has a good heart although we see the world really differently. I mean like her version is somewhere in the 1950’s where all (good) moms stay at home.
Now, if she ever says something supremely judgmental or racist in front of me I’ll be sure to calmly but firmly tell her how I feel. I have no problem standing up to my values.
But if my friend mentions she likes Trump (she hasn’t) I’ll just smile and move on. I won’t talk about Trump with people who love him.
The mere mention of DJT guarantees the room will go cold. People squirm, they look away, the fun dies and whatever relationship you had with that person is now a little awkward and a little tainted.
I can’t tell you how many people in the last four years told me that the election destroyed relationships, or at the very least put a serious wedge in between. Someone got political at the holiday table, the insults flew and someone unfriended someone or stormed out of the house.
Personally I never had an issue (until last year, more on that later). But it’s only because I make a point to never talk partisan politics in person.
But I do post politics on my Facebook page. All the time. I don’t attack friends who voted for Trump (but I do ask why? why?). I unmercifully go after Trump and his long list of GOP enablers.
Okay so about six months ago a close relative who’d never commented on any of my political posts decided she’d had enough of my Trump rants. Fair enough. I figure if I put my opinions out there some people will want to debate me.
But the problem was this close
relative didn’t want to debate Trump’s policies. She wanted to rile me up and get
personal.
And she wanted to get personal because I told her that I’m open to debating policy but I’m not open to debating Trump’s character. That pissed her off. Because if someone attacks our beloved candidate’s character, doesn’t it feel like they’re attacking our character?
In my view Trump’s sorely lacking in the character department. My relative 100% disagreed, citing as proof that Trump’s done plenty of good for the nation, that his wife loves him and that his kids turned out really well (I’ll leave all that alone).
But our Facebook disagreement really got going after I posted an article about Pence where he said we need to “spend more time on our knees than on the internet.” I wrote: “hee hee I know what he means, still this is funny stuff.”
Okay I know, not exactly mature. But sometimes childish irreverent humor is all I have left to survive the insanity.
So then one of my friends commented that “Pence is an ass” to which I “liked” his comment (Pence isn’t an ass, he’s a prince compared to Trump but his archaic LGBTQ views are indeed, asinine).
My relative was incensed that I supported my friend’s “ass” comment although her response to my friend was: “You’re an ass.” To which my friend wrote “You’re a troll.”
Yeah it went like that. So I stayed out of it.
Why I had to finally unfriend my relative
I tried to rationally explain my views about Trump and Pence. After a few futile back and forths my relative posted, “I’m bored now” adding a bunch of laughing emoji’s.
She posted laughing emoji’s in response to my sincere effort to explain my view on Trump which is first and foremost to focus on his character, and then on his policies (which I also don’t agree).
She wrote that her husband (who I’ve always adored) was also laughing at me. She said I needed to lighten up and that I had no sense of humor since Hillary lost. Gaslighting, however unintended.
I was so hurt and angry that I decided I had no choice but to unfriend my relative. People unfriend people all the time. I don’t. She’s the only person I’ve ever kicked off my page and it felt absolutely horrible.
But to stop the madness I had to do it. She’d started posting articles on my timeline about guns and Trump’s accomplishments saying that “my Trump haters and I needed to read this.”
When I told her it’s not cool to post opposing articles directly on someone’s timeline she said, “I don’t don’t care. You can do it on my page.”
I finally told her “clearly we shouldn’t have a relationship on Facebook.” Since then it seems we have no relationship which is pretty sad but I guess it’s what she wants.
My relative couldn’t separate the personal from the political so after 50 years of love and memories we’re done.
I decided a long time ago to never Facebook friend people. I mean why subject the unsuspecting into my world of inappropriate humor and Trump-bashing?
But if someone says she’s going to
friend me I warn her that my page is stuffed with politics and super
controversial stuff that might very well offend or piss her off.
If she still wants to friend
me fine, she’s been warned.
Here’s my feeling about my Facebook
posts:
It’s my page.
If you disagree with what I post then by all means present a counterpoint. I really don’t want to exist in a bubble which is why I watch Fox News sometimes or post Fox articles that seem balanced.
But I insist on two rules if you
comment on my posts:
Use facts and credible sources. I recommend checking sources for bias and factual rating on Mediabiasfactcheck.com or allsides.com.
Be respectful. No “libtard” or “mask-wearing sheep morons.” This of course goes for everyone. No “racist Trump-loving stupid assholes.” And you won’t catch me insulting Trump’s hair, tan, body etc. Granted insulting looks is one of his favorite past times but I don’t want to act like Trump. Going low diminishes credibility and the argument. If you want to guarantee the other side will tune you out or get nasty — sling personal insults.
You also have a few other options if
my posts make you spitting mad:
Delete, scroll or unfriend me.
I honestly don’t mind if someone
unfriends me. Do it loudly or do it silently. We can still be friends in person
if you want. Easy enough.
So I’m wondering, have you lost any family or friends because of your pro or con feelings about Trump? What happened? Or have you made a pact to avoid talking politics with friends and family? Please share your story. No judgment.
Originally published on Huffington Post February 15th, 2017.
I wish it weren’t true. But we’re forever a divided nation. Still, you and I are fine.
What I mean is I still love my family and friends who voted for him. Our relationship is bigger than any President. Even this President.
Of course I’ll still chat with the dry cleaner or cashier or neighbor next door who voted for Trump, but we will not talk of him, ever. And if you bring him up and try to convince me why I’m wrong, I will politely ask you to change the subject.
Saying “Trump” has become our new “abortion.” His name is a trigger that when uttered can only end badly for both parties.
You will not change my view of him. I won’t change yours.
So instead I’ll do my activist work outside the dinner table or parties or lunch with friends. I’ll post my views on Facebook because it’s my page and my personal statement, and I’ll join the Resistance.
But I promise as a thinking engaged voting citizen I will do my best to listen to Trump on every issue. And when I agree, I’ll go public on social media.
This is the best I can do to “give him a chance.” Because for a long list of reasons that divide us, he is not and will never be, my President.
I’m sorry but we cannot “come together” about Trump. Because really, what does that look like?
I won’t suddenly agree with the Muslim ban or “alternative facts,” or his claim about voter fraud or his inauguration crowd size or Steve Bannon or EPA Scott Pruitt or Betsy DeVos or pussy grabs or his “so-called judge” or tweeting about his daughter’s treatment by Nordstrom
I will, however, consider the merits of a wall and read more about the pros and cons of sanctuary cities and tariffs on businesses who ship jobs overseas. I will listen to each Trump official and thoughtfully consider where we agree. Read full post here.
(Senator Rubio) I specifically asked you three questions: “What do you stand for?” “What could Trump do to make you say, ‘Enough?’” and “What’s the functional difference between being a bigot and just voting for one?”
You gave me cricket arias in response. So let me offer some thoughts. Because space is limited, I’ll leave the first two questions aside. But the third deserves exploration, speaking as it does to issues larger than your slipperiness.
Trump’s bigotry is, of course, a given. Between his housing-discrimination suits, his contention that black people are naturally lazy, his birther nonsense, his assertion that an Indiana-born jurist of Mexican descent was unfit to judge him and his support for neo-Nazis, any argument to the contrary must be regarded as asinine.
And despite your claim that people voted for him “despite” all this, a mounting body of research says just the opposite.
Trump’s bigotry was a big part of his appeal for white Americans scared spitless by the notion of a nation where Muslims, people of color and LGBTQ people play ever larger and more visible roles.
In an analysis based on data from the 2016 American National Election Study and published in the current issue of Critical Sociology, University of Kansas professors David N. Smith and Eric Hanley put it as follows: “The decisive reason that white, male, older and less educated voters were disproportionately pro-Trump is that they shared his prejudices and wanted domineering, aggressive leaders …”
My husband was worried about me as the election returns came in. “Why are you so damn calm? She’s losing in some important states and you seem fine. It’s scary.”
“Because she’s going to win. I know it.”
I knew it the day she announced her run.
I knew it because despite well-funded, anti-Clinton machines that told us a million times across dozens of media outlets why we shouldn’t the trust facts, I counted on enough people to dig through the lies and add up the truth.
I knew past any red hot issue, jobs, immigration, that voter conscience would shove aside party, fear and Hillary-hate. America has self-respect. We know when enough is enough.
Grabbing crotches, fat-shaming, mocking a disabled journalist, inciting violence, feeding alt-right nationalism, disrespecting a war hero.
I knew our nation wouldn’t hire racism, sexism, misogyny, and bullying.
Voters felt long before they ever decided, that can’t be our President.
When Trump appeared millions of angry voters said this guy will turn the establishment on its cozy head, shake hard and man, oh, man, my life will be better than it is now.
Soon shocking numbers of people habituated to Trump’s horrible and pretended the vile he said never happened or was taken out of context or he “didn’t mean it.”
But I knew a tipping point of undecided and Republican voters would eventually say, “You’re not a good enough person to be my President. My kids are watching for God’s sake.”
And the fact is most voter voters did, because Hillary won the popular vote.
So when I hear “the people have spoken,” I think yes they have, but the electoral process told them to shut the hell up.
At about 3:30 am on election night, I moved out of denial and into the bargaining stage of grief. I sat on my bathroom floor and pleaded “Please, pleeease, God, no. Do you know what this means? My daughter just voted for the first time.”
About 4am, my husband came into the family room and saw me still watching the election returns and sobbing on the couch. Blurry after too much wine, shock and despair, I almost couldn’t get the words out, “This can’t be happening.”
The last stage of grappling with grief is acceptance. Acceptance is the place where you don’t agree with the outcome but you make peace so you stop feeling so shitty.
But I’ll never accept that *61,336,159 Americans decided racism, sexism and misogyny weren’t deal-breakers. I shouldn’t have to explain why in 2016.
Now all I can do is ask what’s next? What do we do? Where do we start?
My suggestion is to start by not making things worse.
1. Remember why you love your friends and family.
People you loved on Monday, November 7th are still those people. Your cousin Frank is still smart, a damn good storyteller and funny. Your best friend Lisa is still warm, a beautiful friend and generous. Good doesn’t disappear overnight. Forget their politics. Separate them, from him.
2. Stop mentally dividing people into Hillary vs. Trump.
This election viciously divided our nation into two mutually exclusive people piles. Now all we feel about our Trump friends is shock, disappointment and anger. Now we see our Trump neighbor as one word, Trump, and the antithesis to all we hold sacred. Now we wonder if the guy at the gas station or gym is one of them. Our deep tribal division is sad, dangerous and regressive.
We think we know everything we need to know about Trump supporters from disgusting chants by pockets of devolved people. We don’t. Trump pulled votes from almost every demographic, including a disappointing number of women. I heard a man tell Michael Moore, Prince of the Progressives, that he voted for Obama, loved Michael’s movies, but that Trump was his guy. This election isn’t about good people vs. bad. Trump won for a long list of complex reasons that have nothing to do (for plenty of voters) with the hate that came out of his mouth.
3. Don’t knee-jerk piss people off or excommunicate anyone.
If your anger is in danger of glaring at some poor unsuspecting Trump tee-shirt-wearing guy minding his own business, by all that is right in the world, stop yourself. Look away or give him the half smile you’d give any stranger in your path.
But if the Trump tee-shirt-wearing guy says something stupid when he sees the safety pin on your collar, breathe, then walk away. Yeah, go high. You’ll wonder how the hell you did it.
Don’t unfriend or boycott anyone unless he or she insists on being an a-hole. Sometimes you have no choice but to shield yourself from toxic people or nice people who won’t back off. If you hate your friend’s political rants on Facebook ignore her posts or hide her feed. If someone brings up the election, tell her “I love you but let’s not go there.” If she goes there, say it again and shut down the conversation. There’s thousands of other topics in the universe. Kids. Football. Dogs. Career. Dating. Movies. Books. Food. Travel. Her cool boots. Anything that won’t divide you into two angry piles.
4. Learn to actively listen.
Okay for some masochistic reason you want to confront the roaring stomping elephant in the room with friends and family. Your anger is who you are right now and you want people to understand why you can’t just “get over it.”
Fine, but set the stage to learn something from a Trump supporter. Ask friends and family to explain without bashing Hillary, why they chose Trump. Then explain without bashing Trump, why you chose Hillary. Stay off the controversial and personal. Focus on issues. Let them speak without interrupting. Don’t debate. Debate time is over. You might want to slam your head against the wall or you might learn something. This act of bravery will be damn near impossible which is why I don’t suggest you try it right now. Emotions are too high.
Post-election town halls are cropping up all over the nation so a better idea is to vent your anger in a moderated setting instead of railing against your loved ones. Your precious relationships matter far more than this election.
5. Focus on your election wins.
I lost a lot this election, so much that if I focus on the meaning and impact, I’ll go fetal and become a useless citizen. So I’m trying to focus on some state and local wins. Florida Congresswoman Stephanie Murphy beat John Mica. Mica wasn’t my choice for Congress but he has an impressive record on mass transportation. Tapped for a possible Whitehouse position, maybe he’ll keep Florida’s transportation needs on the front burner. Medical pot finally won in Florida and a solar amendment designed by the utility companies to confuse consumers lost. My town of Orlando picked Hillary. It’s only a symbolic win, but I’ll take it.
6. Stop reading and watching political news for a while
If you’re a seething mass of negative, go under for a while. Turn off all news. Get off Facebook and Twitter. Go the movies. Watch sitcoms. Head to the pet store and pet puppies. I promise you, puppies help. Personally I don’t have the willpower to get off the grid, but you might. Get away from the slow drip-drip-drip of 16 months of soul-sucking election stress. It’s hurting you more than you think. And for a while, you might pretend the impossible never happened.
And when you’re ready to come out from under the madness, depression and anger, activate.
The problem isn’t just about politics anymore, it’s about Trump, the very-bad-no-good person in the Oval Office.
It’s about the impenetrable bond between Trump and his most loyal, rabid fans who refuse to see this guy as anything but their nation’s over due bad-ass savior, and a victim of a media witch hunt. Perhaps to admit Trump’s grave character flaws after all this time and tribal division, would be too hard to mentally reconcile.
Unlike any other presidential election in history that I know, for the first time the losing side needs more than a run of political wins, we need Trump voters to see their guy for who he really is, and then and only then, can we begin to close the bitter divide.
We’re called almost daily by pastors and pundits and politically weary friends and family to reach across the aisle, and of course we must.
But first I need to know that my fellow American acknowledges who Trump is as a person. Then I need to know my fellow American is willing to courageously and relentlessly call him out, again and again and again. Wear him down, which with Trump’s shield of arrogance and narcissism will likely take a while.
At about 3:30 am on election night, I moved out of denial and into the bargaining stage of grief. I sat on my bathroom floor and pleaded “Please, pleeease, God, no. Do you know what this means? My daughter just voted for the first time.”
About 4am, my husband came into the family room and saw me still watching the election returns and sobbing on the couch. Blurry after too much wine, shock and despair, I almost couldn’t get the words out, “This can’t be happening.”
The last stage of grappling with grief is acceptance. Acceptance is the place where you don’t agree with the outcome but you make peace so you stop feeling so shitty.
But I’ll never accept that *61,336,159 Americans decided racism, sexism and misogyny weren’t deal-breakers. I shouldn’t have to explain why in 2016.
Now all I can do is ask what’s next? What do we do? Where do we start?Full post
They were last night as I walked in to a Planned Parenthood discussion on “A Celebration of Faith and Reproductive Health.”
They’re always there, the voices to protect the unborn.
A few protesters waved graphic images of bloody broken babies and held “Planned Parenthood = Murder” signs. A man on a megaphone shouted Scripture from the curb.
For a moment I wondered about all the good these protesters could do if they combined their passion and turned it into everyone’s cause. Because everyone wants to reduce unwanted pregnancies and abortions.
As I walked into the meeting room I was struck by the number of men who showed up, men who don’t own a womb but must understand why they must never own mine.
I grabbed a chair in the front row and listened to a panel of faith leaders and one secular humanist share why they support reproductive rights in the context of their beliefs.
Rev Davis, former Chair of Planned Parenthood’s Clergy Advisory Board, spoke frankly about his years as chaplain at Skidmore College during the late 60’s.
When he first started he told his wife, “How hard could it be to counsel 1400 girls?”
“‘You’re an idiot,’ she said, ‘It’ll be hard.’” Read full post
There was a time when if my well-intentioned friends apologized for aging racists who said atrocious stuff, just to be polite, I pretended to agree with their lovable excuses.
Forgive that generation for they know not what they say!
They know.
A few years ago my sixty-something neighbor, a nice but tiresome lady, showed up at my door to gently complain about something I needed to fix. A few minutes later she got weirdly quiet and sighed, which I’d learned was my cue to ask.
“My husband is really upset lately because our son has been dating a half-breed nigger.”
She said it casually and in cahoots, like she’d mentioned that interest rates were up and so of course we’d both see the obvious downside of what was coming next.
And when I looked horrified, she didn’t.
“Oh yes, I forgot your generation doesn’t talk that way,” she said.
“Actually my entire family doesn’t talk that way,” I said.
And when one of my brothers who wasn’t raised racist offhandedly used the N-word I told him no, not ever. Not in my house.
People need to hear that thinking racist or outrageous bile out loud isn’t okay simply because people hand them a few empathetic hall passes like:
They hail from a less politically correct era
They earned the senior privilege to no longer self-censor
They’re rightfully angry about lost or displaced jobs
They’re rightfully scared of growing terrorist threats
They’re rightfully sick and tired of the bought and paid political establishment
There’s no excuse weighty enough to justify hateful, racist, sexist verbal bile.
None (unless, you’re not of sound mind).
You don’t get to imply that a female journalist has PMS or that Carly Fiorina is ugly or that real war heroes don’t get captured. You don’t get to make fun of a disabled reporter or say racist things about Mexicans or that you’d ban all Muslims.
Okay you get to say almost whatever you want, but clearly you shouldn’t.
We the people decide if we raise or lower the bar for civil discourse. … FULL POST at the Huffington Post
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