Because Trump Doesn’t Speak for Me

It’s becoming a hard year to be a human. The world is so polarized; I can’t offer support to one group without offending another. For instance, I made a pledge to myself that I would limit my personal Facebook posts to positive subjects – or at least the positive spin on things or events which are negative – as best I could. That I wouldn’t contribute to the hate and vitriol being spewed everywhere around me. But even so, the stuff I put out there to be positive often still manages to offend someone. I had at least one cousin unfriend me when I posted about gay rights, for example, and another when I supported gun control.

I’ve been thinking a lot about family lately, about these people who are chosen for us – either by birth or by circumstance – and what it means to be supportive. I have blood relatives whom I’d never in a million years even so much as talk to if they weren’t related to me, and friends with no familial relation who are so close and so dear I’d do anything for them. I also have family members who floor me with their ability to accept our differences, and longtime friends who break my heart with their indifference.

We are pack animals, that much I know. No matter how passionate we feel about politics, or our work, or about success or money or religion…when we lie on our deathbed, what will matter most is the state of our relationships. How much we loved, how much we were loved. Who betrayed us, who supported us in our greatest trials. Even things like politics and religion, when you boil them down to their core ingredients, exist only because of humans interacting with each other. Because of our relationships.

So we can’t avoid it, is what I’m saying.

We’re always going to have people in our pack who make us crazy, right? People who offend us, or say insensitive things, or don’t offer their support when we think they should. And most of us, I think, go right to the notion that we should kick those people out of our pack. Good riddance, you ignorant fools. And I, for one, have followed through with that notion on more than one occasion.

But I think I was wrong.

I didn’t eliminate that person’s ability to make me crazy by shoving them out of my inner circle. Their voice still lived inside my head, the pain of their offenses still lived inside my heart. And because the Universe has a lively sense of humor, in almost every occurrence someone else – someone who embodied everything the other person stood for and then some – showed up immediately to continue the battle. I was then fighting with the old person in my head, and the new person in real life. Good times.

As we get closer to this election in America, the polarization is getting more and more intense. And I’ll admit, anyone who listens to Donald Trump speak – hears his words, sees his contempt for anyone who isn’t a wealthy white male – and thinks, “That person speaks for me…” Well, we aren’t likely to have very many constructive conversations. It does imply a deep chasm between our core belief systems – more than just the difference between democrat and republican. If Donald Trump speaks for you, then our differences are not about our opinions on health care or the federal deficit. Our differences run all the way down to our primary values, and whether one set of people truly are better than another.

So yeah, we probably shouldn’t get into a conversation about much more than the color of your sweater.

But honestly, because Trump doesn’t speak for me, because I am horrified by his words on a daily basis, I don’t see the people who support him as somehow less than me. I’m terrified of them, and of what they have the capacity to do to each other and to this country. But the men and women in that group still love their children, you know? They crave things like human touch and stimulating conversation. Many of them strive to know Divinity, and follow a moral code. Sure, some of them beat their wives and kick puppies in the street…but no group is devoid of those assholes.

Because Trump doesn’t speak for me, I will never stop reaching out a hand toward people who are different from me. I will never stop trying to find those bits and pieces which make us similar. I will continue to do my best to forgive, over and over.

If this were Game of Thrones, I’d be slated to die by the end of the season.

My best successes with magic have always come when I’m making a wish for someone else. If I have someone in my life who is making me crazy, I wish for something positive to come in to their life – something which hopefully either takes them far away from me, or helps them look at their life more positively. This is what I wish for Trump supporters. I wish for them to have a life-changing experience which opens their eyes to how much their bigotry and hatred are hurting them.

Regardless of who wins this election, I’m not leaving this country. I will stay and fight. I will stay and continue to love, and to forgive…and to vote. I’ll speak up about women’s equality, about the Black Lives Matter movement, about gay rights and immigrant rights and Muslim rights. I will continue to write stories about humans interacting with each other – sometimes pushing the boundaries gently, sometimes setting the fence on fire. I’ll continue the process of recognizing my white privilege, my weaknesses as a parent, and my occasional failings as a friend – while I also recognize my strengths, my successes, and my responsibilities. And as best I can, I’ll teach my children to do the same. We’ll stand together and shoot rainbow beams out of our chests like freaking Care Bears.

Because Trump doesn’t speak for me…because of that, I will do my best to keep my mind open, and my heart open, and my arms wide open.