The mood on the morning of Wednesday November 9, 2016 was not what I expected or hoped it would be. The results of the 2016 Presidential election brought immediate heartache; though the tossing and turning in the wee hours served as a harbinger of dark news.
The result brought about a profound depression that I won’t shake for sometime. A depression, not rooted in the flip side of contested ideology, but one rooted in the selection of what I believe to be a truly vile human being. A person who is not morally fit to hold the highest office in the land.
I’ve been on the downside of ideological contests before. Reagan and both Bushes have bested my guys in the past but the choice was always between differing political ideologies. You take your lumps and move on. But 2016 was very different. 2016 offered a referendum on good vs evil.
Donald Trump’s movement reached into the deepest crevasses, darkest corners, and jaded hearts to coalesce around fear, hate and ego.
Great disappointment comes when high expectations and delicately placed faith are not met. I put my faith in the American electorate. I believed that good people, fine Americans, when put to the test, would set aside party politics to prevent a misogynistic, petty and vindictive man from occupying our most sacred public office. The gut-punch on Wednesday morning was all too visceral.
Yes my friends, this one will linger for sometime. When your oldest daughter tells you that she cried on the subway, it alters your psyche. When your youngest daughter spends a sleepless night thinking that she will inherit the potential harmful impact of this presidency, your heart withers. These young women’s visceral fears have rocked my foundation.
This one will sting for a while. There are those that are celebrating the Trump victory. Celebrating like their team just won the Super Bowl. Only there won’t be parades down Main Street and championship rings to gawk at. It will be an oppressive Supreme Court, harmful immigration policies, and global isolationism sitting on a shelf in the championship case. And no checks and balances to protect any of us.
I’ve had to sever connections with people in my life, both real and virtual, who supported Trump. Men that I know with daughters. Men who put a “pussy-grabbing” mental midget and party politics before the interest of their own children. People who voted for a man who considers his daughter “a piece of ass.” Evangelicals who inked a deal with the devil. People, who with a single vote, invited racist hate to saunter from the shadows and into the light of day.
Most times, I am generally tolerant of the differing views of others. This just can’t be one of those times.
I don’t like this choice but I will abide by it out of respect for our democracy and the office of the President of the United States. I suspect, though, that this nauseous feeling will continue for four long years. I invite Mr Trump to prove me wrong.
