A Letter to a Trump Voter

Dear Fellow American,

Politically, there are likely few things you and I would agree on. I am -- at least I think I am -- what they call the “liberal elite.” For the past several years, I have sat comfortably in my urban home, watching as it increases in value, moved from one job to the next with ease and celebrated as we saw significant progression on “social” issues like the legalization of gay marriage -- and done all of that to the soundtrack of NPR. With Donald Trump’s election, I feel like my world has turned upside down.

Stay with me. I promise this is not going where you think it is.

Tonight, while waiting for my Sunday night programs to start, I turned on the Screen Actors’ Guild Awards. The actors for Stranger Things won for the “ensemble” category, and got up to give their acceptance speech. (Side note: If you have not watched the show, I highly recommend it -- it’s pretty freakin awesome. (We might be able to find something we can agree on after all!)). One of the actors appeared to go off script with some loud words about where we are as a country. No specific digs or names mentioned, but anyone with a pulse could figure out what he was talking about.

And, in that moment, it hit me. I finally got it.

You feel like your beliefs and ideologies are second-class citizens because every time you turn on the TV, watch a movie or pick up a paper the “other side’s” ideologies are in your face. (As I said earlier, there are likely few things we agree on politically, but this letter is not about that.) As the world -- America, more importantly -- grows increasingly more liberal, you feel like the things you believe are being threatened. And that makes you angry. And probably quite sad. And maybe even desperate.

I’m writing to you to say several things. First, I’m sorry. I know how it feels when what you feel so passionately is challenged or ignored. Or -- and I’m ashamed to write this -- belittled. I know I’m only one person from the other side and therefore can’t speak for everyone, but I feel like I speak for at least a few of us when I say we feel very strongly about certain things. (If you’re honest, you could probably say the same.) Which leads to us getting up on soapbox from time to time. And making broad generalizations about you, your world and your worldviews.

Second, I know there are things we have in common. If you are a parent, for example, I know you love your children with an intensity unmatched by anything else in this world. And that you would go to whatever lengths you thought necessary to protect them from harm. If you’re not a parent, I know you have had your heart broken, feelings hurt, felt joy and experienced pain. Guess what? So have I. I also need food to eat and water to drink. I get scared when I feel out of control and often wish I was more deserving of the life I was given.   

Third, I know you love this country. And I want you to know I do, too. More than I realized, actually. The freedom to speak, to vote, to question. To marry whomever I choose. Worship whichever God I choose (or reject). To be able to move freely, own a home and have children. I think there are things you love about this country that you fear are being threatened; I hope the reality is different.

I believe we can all live here together in peace. I believe people on my side can -- and should -- listen (really listen) to your fears. I also believe that you should be able to listen to ours. There are going to be things on which we disagree, sure. But by listening and hearing each other, I believe we can find some middle ground. Some middle ground that’s not extreme, but, rather, respectful.

I think we have found ourselves at an extreme. I think you needed to be heard, and someone was telling you -- finally -- that they were listening. I don’t blame you.

And, I hope you don’t hate me for this, but along with this apology comes a request. Our democracy isn’t always perfect and definitely needs some fine tuning. But it is far better than what most have. You will likely be getting things that make you happy with this administration, and, after eight years of feeling the opposite, I understand that you will want to celebrate those victories. And, even though we will likely disagree on what victory looks like, I understand where you will be coming from. That said, all I ask is that you remember why you love this country. Why we all love this country. And, if something challenges those freedoms or the bedrock of our democracy, please stand up. We are America. The good and the bad. All of us. We can make or break this country, and I believe that together, we are strong enough to make it. But we have to do it together.

I’m sorry for the role I have played in creating a separated America. I’d like to reach across the aisle, find the things we can agree on, talk through those we don’t, and decide -- together -- to keep America great.  

Sincerely,

A strong, passionate and humbled liberal

Why Donald Trump Will Make Me a Better Mother

As a female, I have always thought that parenting a girl would be so difficult. I mean, the emotional swings alone make it hard to imagine how my mother made it through my teenage years. I delivered my second boy three months ago, after being absolutely certain I was pregnant with a girl. (Obviously, not certain enough!) As I sit here tonight and watch coverage of Donald Trump’s first week in office, my two boys are fast asleep beside me. And, I can’t help but think…this man is going to make me a better mother.

Months ago when the whole “grab ‘em by the pussy” video emerged, I was horrified. Now, I have been around plenty of guys in my lifetime, so I know this way of talking is not unique to our new president. I have been cat-called, pushed up against a wall and a tongue shoved into my mouth, compared to the cheerleaders at a basketball game by a client (as he tried to picture what I would look like if I were wearing what they had on) and called “Michelle” by a guy who used to come into the restaurant I worked at because I “looked like his dead girlfriend.” And those are the incidences off the top of my head. So, I know a thing or two about how men talk in “locker rooms” or at fraternity houses. But this was different. It was coming out of the mouth of a man who was seeking the most powerful position in the world. Someone who, if elected, would represent me as an American. Someone who would be on television all the time, making it quite possible my sons would see and hear him. And, why the hell should they not? I mean, I shouldn’t have to worry about my sons seeing the president of his country. Should I?

But then I really started thinking. About my friends who are raising girls. And I thought how hard it is going to be to raise them around this kind of behavior. How to keep them strong. Assertive. Impervious to pressure. And then I realized something that shook me to my core. It is not THEIR responsibility to raise girls who can say no. It is MY responsibility to raise boys who don’t give them something to say no to. The weight of that responsibility crippled me at first. Honestly, it still does a bit now that the grabber is, in fact, our president.

But, mostly, it inspires me. There is something I can do to change the way women are treated. How they are thought of. How they are talked about.

Today I have two young boys who see -- every day -- a father who treats their mother with respect. Who shares every single household responsibility. Who is an equal partner. Whose work is not more important than mine. Who speaks to me with kindness. And they see men all around them in our “village” doing the same. But as they grow older, the observation will no longer be enough. We will have to talk openly and honestly with them about everything: sex, drugs, consent, appropriate language. We cannot hope they will learn it from others or that they will have picked it up from watching us. We need to hold them accountable for their actions and their words, and raise them with the ingrained belief that every single woman (every human, really) should be treated with respect and kindness.

I hate where we are as a country right now. The man that sits and sleeps in the white house makes me sick. The fact that he made it there makes me even sicker. But, without the light shone on the darkness of our culture, people like me would likely be stuck in our own worlds where we believe that sort of thing doesn’t, or won’t, happen. But, the truth is, it can. And will continue until people stand up and do something about it. So I’m raising my voice. And I’m raising my sons in a way that (I hope) they will never be like him.

Maybe -- just maybe -- something good will come out of this. I know I’m going to work my ass off to do my part to see to it.

Why I Will Be Marching

Like many people, I am still in a bit of shock over Donald Trump’s rise as “politician” and his subsequent victory to the position of president. There are many emotions I could express and share that went along with that shock, but I think those emotions not only fail to make change, but succeed in driving a bigger stake between parties. Or, more accurately and upsettingly, Americans.  

I think the thing that upsets me so much about this election and its results is how different it feels we all are now. How we all think. I know, rationally, that most often there is more that unites us than separates us. But at this moment in time, it sure feels like there is a huge fucking gap between what I think and what many others think. And, while weeks ago I would have defined the feeling that went along with that realization as ‘anger,’ now I would describe it as sadness on the verge of numbness.

How can we be so vastly different when it comes to protecting our fellow humans? Our neighbors? How can I be so terrified that our beautiful way of life as Americans -- creative, diverse, free, innovative and provocative -- is being challenged by a country like Russia while others feel it would be good to be like them?

I think A LOT about where we are today and where we are headed tomorrow (and after). I am an avid consumer of information, insatiably curious about what is happening around me. And why it is happening. I do have hope that things will not be as bad as I have imagined they will be in my mind. And, maybe they won’t be. That could very well be true.

But… they could also be as bad or worse.

As I have read about things that happened in the past, I have always wondered to myself what I would have done. In Germany, would I have fought for my Jewish neighbors? Would I have opened my home for them to seek safety and shelter from the heinous crimes being waged against them? Decades later, in our own country, when our fellow Americans -- those with brown skin -- were being forced to sit at the back of the bus, beaten in the streets and treated unfairly, would I have crossed the “race” line to stand hand-in-hand with them and fight for their equal rights? I hate to even think that I might have sat on the sidelines and “hoped” for things to change. Or grateful that I lived in a sheltered place where I didn’t have to physically see any of the inequalities being waged on other human beings.

To many, these examples seem harsh, unrealistic and even exaggerated. But to many others like me, they are hitting frighteningly close to home. Our incoming president has spewed so much vitriol and hatred for certain races and religions. Muslims. Blacks. Mexicans. Women. People who live next door to us. Kids who attend school with our children. Men and women who keep us safe in the military. Contribute to our society. We are seeing so much anger, hatred and ignorance aimed in their direction. Our brothers and sisters are scared they will be thrown out of the country they call home. They are making plans should they be forced out. Plans for who will take care of their children and their homes. That’s the conversation they are having around the dinner table.

My life, my home, my family and my children are no more important than theirs. Their lives are not worth less than mine.

I need to fight. To stand up for those at risk. I cannot wait until it’s too late and people’s homes and lives have been destroyed.

I need to stand up for what’s right. As a woman, I have had plenty of instances of discrimination. Of harassment. Tomorrow, a man will be sworn into the most powerful position in the world who has publicly defamed women. Who assigns a woman’s worth based on how physically attractive he thinks she is. He has insinuated that a woman who he saw as being unfair to him was on her period. Because he had to thump his chest and put the (lesser) woman in her place.

I am strong. I have a voice that I am not afraid to use. And, at least today, we live in a country that allows me to use that voice, and so I must.

I have a choice. I can sit at home and hope quietly, or I can get off my ass and shout until my voice becomes hoarse and walk until my legs get weak. I can show my sons what freedom looks like. And how to fight for what’s right. I can demonstrate for them a peaceful way to bring change. That being a human on this earth means we are responsible for each other. That when our brothers and sisters are being threatened, we don’t sit back and shut up. We stand up and shout until we’re heard.

This is a big moment for Americans. Women. Men. Black. White. Asian. Muslims. Christians. Jewish. Mexican. (To name a few.) We need to band together to show that we will not let hatred win. Our country was built on hope, and that is what we need to build our future on.

My mind and heart are open. As are my ears. I will remain hopeful but vigilant. Peaceful but ready to fight. This is my march. This is our march. I walk for peace, respect, freedom and love. I walk for my country. Our country. One that is already great. And I look forward to joining hands with those who have made it that way.