It has been a few long, emotionally draining days since
Donald Trump became our President-Elect. As I have sifted my way through the
stages of grief, my journey to acceptance both bolstered and hindered by
Facebook.
I have cried, real tears, every day since Nov. 8 and I have
been introspective about my depression. First, in shock, I realized that I was
not upset or disappointed with Hillary Clinton. My despair and anxiety comes
from a shattered view of humanity. It isn’t that I thought Hillary was the perfect
candidate, or that everyone should get on board with her politics and policies.
In my heart, I knew that a lot of people were compromising their personal
beliefs to vote for my candidate, but I never let myself believe that so many
people – so many people I know! – so many people with daughters and wives and
children with special needs – would elect a man so full of hate, so
counterintuitive to their interests. I knew Donald Trump’s message resonated
with “some people,” but to turn to the right and to the left in my own
community and see “Make America White Again” signs and a swastika, I still
could not reconcile my heart to the math: my neighbors are racist. My friends,
family members, school board members, councilmen, and policemen are racist. It was
unimaginable to me. Surely they don’t feel this way.
My white privilege showing, I believed they were better. I
believed that the “racists” were a few loud bad apples. I wanted to believe in
the best of people, to know that they were good in their heart of hearts, no
matter how many times they used the highly offensive word “Killary.” (Which is
not nearly as clever a nickname as they think it is). My heart has paid dearly
for my naiveté.
The realization own democratic base did not show to the
polls to cost us the most important election of our time was the punch to the
gut that almost did me in.
But then it dawned on me: what do I have to worry about
really?
My family immigrated to this country seven generations ago.
My children are blonde haired and blue eyed. They are healthy and have no
special needs. They wake up in a two-income household of highly educated,
white, upper middle class, heterosexual parents. Our credit score is
impeccable. We own our house and pay on a small, affordable mortgage.
My children attend public school, but we could afford
private tuition if necessary. As state funds dwindle for our school districts,
we have been proactive about the arts and sciences, padding our children’s
educations with tutors, art and drama workshops and piano and horseback riding
lessons and stepping up to take a more active role in their at-home work.
I am not a minority, a single parent, a protected citizen, a
veteran, self-employed, or a business owner. My baby making years are over – so
I have “termed out” of my relevance to birth control and abortion laws. Do I
support Planned Parenthood? Sure. But I don’t need their services. I am not,
nor do I wish to be a gun owner, so my constitutional right to bear arms is a
bit lost on me. Lobby on, NRA.
I am no longer a student, and my student loans are paid in
full. I make far more than the federal minimum wage and do not need to care if
hotel maids and waitresses can’t make a reasonable living.
I appreciate Obamacare and have benefited from the raised
standards and polices in healthcare in general, but I have always opted for my
employer’s private insurance offerings.
Will my personal wealth suffer under a Trump presidency?
Undoubtedly. But I don’t anticipate any wild swings in fortune. We have not
overly invested in the stock market and we are behind in our retirement savings
– almost like we were smart enough to hedge our bets instead of stupid enough
to plan late for our silver years.
In the end, it’s the less educated Trump voters who showed
up to trample on humanity, and the much-discussed but absent African American
voters, the missing Latino voters, the always disappointing millennial turnout,
the stubborn Bernie Bro hold outs and the silent women voters who can feel as
good about their choice in president – either by actual vote or vote by absence
– in their individual situations.
I’m sure it will all be just fine for you. Really, what
could go wrong?
