Those of us who have lived the last four years as a waking nightmare are zombies at the moment, walking around half-conscious, in a state of unadulterated fear. One more episode of “Schitt’s Creek” only temporarily numbs the feeling.
We believed Donald Trump would be bad back in 2016. But now in 2020, we know exactly how bad. Bad enough that we fear for the future of our democracy should he be reelected. Bad enough that we can’t quite imagine what our future might look like under a second term.
The fact that our country is so divided strikes me as a personal tragedy. And not because political division is fatal. In fact, political division — a vigorous opposition — is necessary to democracy. (I am not registered to any party, by the way, like many journalists.)
It pains me deeply to see that well more than a third of our country consistently supports Trump, now that we know for certain who he is. Now that we’ve heard the countless lies, observed immigrant children ripped from their parents’ arms, witnessed the constant corruption, absorbed the insults to women and military heroes, felt the endless bullying and stood powerless as our president abdicated responsibility for a pandemic that is still killing tens of thousands of our fellow citizens.
I don’t care how well the stock market is doing.
Like many Americans, in this election I need to know that a majority of our citizens will state clearly, for the sake of history and for the sake of the future, that this is not who we are. So that when we venture out into the world again, we can hold our heads high and be proud of America. So that I don’t have to say to friends abroad, “This is not us. This is not me,” as they sadly nod: They understand.
For me, this election is not about Donald Trump. It is about our country, our values, the sacred, shared foundation that we’ve all embraced beyond faith, color, creed or gender. I badly need to see those values reaffirmed. Our vote will, I hope, reflect that foundational belief.
Look, I do see the hurt among many Trump supporters that lies just beneath the anger. Their need to be heard, their frustration as America changes before their very eyes. I understand that many Americans have felt forgotten as our economy has shifted, our manufacturing sector has died, our unions have shriveled, women have stepped into their power leaving some men feeling lost, and Black and other nonwhite Americans have made their voices heard and their trauma witnessed. What about
their trauma?, these voters seem to say.
But beyond lip service, Trump has not helped those forgotten Americans. The manufacturing jobs have not returned. No thoughtful person really thinks coal mines are our future. Mistreating immigrants does nothing to help those struggling in the ever-shrinking middle class. And however you pack the Supreme Court, forcing the norms of a minority on the will of the majority will not turn out well in our democracy.
There is a small part of my brain that is grateful that Trump is such a clinical narcissist, such an incompetent autocrat wannabe, such a humorless and unlikable person. I mean, if he were able to
pretend that he cared about people who were devastated by COVID-19, undoubtedly lots of folks would believe it. And still, I worry that he might win.
The not knowing grabs your insides, clutches your brain. You try not to look at Twitter, but you can’t help it. You scan
Real Clear Politics just one more time before turning out the light.
Not because of Donald. But because our values are on the line.
For me, this election is about what I need to believe about these United States of America.
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