Election Eve

At the end of the 2016 election season, one of the few things Americans could agree on was that we were all sick of campaign commercials. There was a collective on-edgeness because of the potential for history to be made with our first female president or history to be made by a reality TV star being elected to our nation’s top office. The lead up to election eve had been one of the most contentious in history. The seams holding together our stars and stripes were a little frayed.

Have you ever known a person who could tell you every detail of what they did on the second Saturday of January 2018? The kind of person who remembers names, dates, and the directions to your house after they’ve been there only once? It’s safe to say I’m not one of those people. I have an “ish” kind of memory. My mind tends to catch the gist and then move on to the next scene of interest. But on the night of the 2016 election, my memories are freakishly distinct. I sat alone on my worn brown leather sofa eating a dinner of leftover pasta after work. Preliminary reports on several TV stations were reportedly in Hillary’s favor (maybe these were the results of early voting?). But around 7:30, a few key states were called in favor of Trump. And then a few more. The text thread between a few close friends and me went from lively and anticipatory to radio silent. I remember looking at my phone to see if it was still on. In my mind, I pictured all of us on our own living room couches staring at our televisions in shock. I didn’t want to turn off my TV. I kept praying that there would be a miraculous uptick in states called for Hillary. Or a report that some box of ballots had just been discovered and the results were now being updated. Around midnight, I began to curse the electoral college.

The next morning’s drive to work was downright eerie. There were few cars on the road. I didn’t have the mental energy to listen to the radio. As I crossed the paths of like-minded colleagues throughout the day, only looks were exchanged.

The results of the 2016 election may be hard to contextualize for my daughters who have lived through only a few presidents and have scant memories of the good old days of “normal” political jousting (pre-Twitter). But now, an entire generation of young people just received a civics lesson from the executive branch of our government that will be sure to have an impact for generations to come.

Much has changed since November 8th of 2016. As I consider what the next 48 hours will hold, it feels important to reflect on four of the wildest years in American history. I hope the blog post I write in 2024 will have more good things to say, but in any event, this feels important to capture – if only for myself.

Prior to the 2016 election, news media was fairly polarized, but the people I know often skipped around between networks to get a more complete picture of issues. During the 2016 election and afterward, America has lived in 2 realities – those who watch Fox News and those who do not. The purpose of this blog is not to catalog the differences among networks, but rather to point out the successful discipleship of this network to rationalize Donald Trump’s misbehavior in ways that would have been unthinkable in the past. On a personal level, I feel like I’ve lost friends and family members not to a medical prognosis or a move to a faraway land. Rather, I’ve lost them ideologically because they’ve bought into the notion that any news other than what Fox broadcasts must surely be “fake.” During the past 4 years, I have gained a whole new understanding of the importance of having a free press. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the similarities between the “fake news” rhetoric and propaganda of the last four years to the exhibit I walked through in the World War II museum recently.

The first time I heard the ‘Make America Great Again’ slogan, I remember thinking – that’s kinda gutsy. The guy is coming right out and saying that today’s America is not great. And then I thought about it a bit more and wondered – what version of America’s past are we trying to regenerate? The period when women didn’t yet have the right to vote? The period before the ADA became law and our country became more systemically committed to equitable access regardless of physical ability? The period when Black students had to go to segregated schools and their parents had to sit at the back of the bus? The period before technology when every bit of knowledge that existed in the world could be contained in the annual production of the World Book Encyclopedia that we all loved to page through in the library? The period before it was legal to marry your life partner, regardless of their gender? Over the past four years, it has become clear that Trump’s version of great means that universal healthcare will no longer exist. That a woman’s dominion over her own body is decontextualized and subject to lawmakers’ whims. That discriminatory practices related to sexual preference and gender identity are not only allowed but legalized. That during the biggest health crisis of our generation, the scientists in charge of advising Trump are routinely muzzled and discredited at every turn – resulting in the USA being a shining example of how NOT to respond to a global pandemic. That Black citizens will be subject to police brutality and structural racism that is unchecked by the Commander in Chief, and in some cases encouraged by him. While it may be too long to fit on a ball cap, I think I’d prefer a slogan that said ‘Make America Be Like It Was in 2015 Again.” I can think of a long list of things off the top of my head that were far better then than they are today.

I learned the word misogyny in the last couple of years. As a lifelong word nerd (and also, um, a female), I find it bizarre that this word was never a part of my vernacular. I guess maybe that’s a good thing? But when a male I know first used the word in a sentence, he must have noticed my puzzled look, and he seriously had to define it for me. (Yes, I’m kinda embarrassed by the irony of this, especially since this particular male had many of the traits of a classic misogynist.) Trump’s unapologetic disregard for women and his sexual shenanigans that make the events of 1998 in the Oval Office seem tame have buried the bar for male decency. Working in public schools, I have seen first hand the impact this crass behavior has had on young men. I can only hope that the future holds a series of principled leaders who, regardless of their gender, demonstrate value and respect for the vast contributions of women.

Before 2016, I was an active member of my church. I led Bible studies. I attended services. I enjoyed living a life filled with the hope of drawing others to Jesus through my church-related pursuits. And then Trump hijacked Christianity. I don’t know of any other way to say it. Through the irrational support by many Christian leaders, churches have become battlegrounds fraught with racist ideology, misogyny (see what I did there?), and a fear-based rhetoric that even non-Christians can see is the picture of irony given the fact that “do not fear” is the most common command in the Bible. In a recent intake questionnaire I had to complete, the question “What is your religious affiliation?” stared me down. After a while, I threaded the needle by saying, “I follow Jesus. I’m disgusted by most organized religion right now.” The Jesus I know would be wearing a mask and upending every table in the White House (and on Capitol Hill too, if we’re being honest).

It is clear that Trump’s “Pro Life” agenda was a key driver in his endearment to mainstream Christian leaders. Again, the irony here is thick, given the unabashed sexual exploits of this man by his own admission. (I wonder if he knows where unplanned pregnancies come from?) As the product of an unplanned pregnancy that was (speculatively) saved due to the prohibition of abortion before Roe v. Wade in 1973, I feel entitled to a bit of an opinion on this topic. I believe that abortion is not the best solution to the difficult choice women must sometimes face due to their reproductive capabilities. HOWEVER, until decision makers demonstrate the same level of self-righteous determination to save ALL imperiled lives in this world, it is downright hypocritical to meddle in the personal decisions of women who will be the ones living with the reproductive consequences. Take for example Trump’s behavior in other life or death related matters… The number of lives lost in this pandemic due to his disregard for science. The number of lives ruined because of irresponsible border control policies and practices leaving many children still hoping for reunification with their families years after the separation practices began. The numbers of lives imperiled as a result of the draconian and racist refugee policies that have characterized this administration. I can definitely get on board with “Pro Life” policies, but only if we’re going all in.

Prior to 2016, I participated in several book studies and professional learning events designed to help educators help students address bullying situations. We learned about the lifelong pain of those who have been bullied (and all too often, the suicidal outcomes), about the psychology of bystanders who choose not to intervene, and we learned about the pain and insecurity deep within bullies that often feed their behavior. And then we elected Donald Trump. In a normal, pre-2016 universe, the connection here would have been obvious. But… 2020. This weekend, I walked around with my mouth agape at the degree to which the “bullying is bad” bar has been lowered. In my home state (God Bless Texas), Joe Biden’s bus was surrounded on a highway and nearly run off the road by a caravan of Trump flag wielding trucks. It was like a highway, high-stakes version of what we tried to prevent in the 7th grade hallway. I temporarily lost my mind and posted the video (and my lack of words to even describe what I was seeing) to my Facebook feed (one self-care rule I’ve tried to uphold is minding the positivity ratio that I communicate). In what shouldn’t have been surprising, but I guess my glass half full-ness still has a little gas in the tank so it still surprised me, a couple of my longtime friends chimed in cheering the behavior on and/or justifying it by citing the “crazies” on both sides. In another “lost my mind” moment, I began sparring with those who thought this behavior was ok. I felt like the bystander that had just walked between the bully and his target. Sweaty palms, jittery eyes, but a strong spine. And I spoke my truth. Respectfully, I hope. Without expectation that a mind will be changed. But after 1,457 days of this presidency, I’ve finally learned how to and when to speak my truth without becoming a bigger part of the problem. (A back door silver lining, perhaps?)

In a recent Brene’ Brown podcast interview with Joe Biden, he cited one of the adages he’d heard growing up, “Who you are is how you live.” When I think back to the sense I had of the frayed stars and stripes in 2016, I realize that who we are and how we are living in America is putting more and more strain on the fabric and seams of our country. I’m praying that Wednesday dawns peacefully and provides hope that can bind up the frays and holes within our hurting nation. I hope you’ll join me.