I’ve been playing Kubler-Ross pinball most of the day, bumping up mostly against anger and depression. Which led to some thoughts — lots of thoughts, really, too many to count or process in total just yet — but in this case some perspective for my Trump-supporting friends and acquaintances about not being immediately ready to move on. About not being able to put the election that just happened behind us. About it not being, ultimately, about you.
Your vote does not come with an asterisk. When you submit your ballot, you don’t get to explain why you did what you did, or have the luxury of picking and choosing which positions you’re willing to be publicly associated with and which don’t apply to you. Unfair, but that’s the way our system works. Voting is not about choosing the right hat. It’s about enabling the people we elect to take action. Action that will be based, for lack of a better guide, on the policies those people propose. Actions that will have consequences.
So I want you to think about what it sounds like when you say, “I voted for Trump, but....”
You may say, I voted for Trump, but I don’t hate Muslims. I’m sure you don’t. But you voted for a man who has inflamed anti-Muslim sentiments and actions. More important, you voted for his Islamophobic policies.
You may say, I voted for Trump, but I don’t hate Central and South American immigrants. I’m sure you don’t. But you voted for a man who used anti-immigrant diatribes as the springboard for his campaign. More important, you voted for his anti-immigrant and anti-Latino policies.
You may say, I voted for Trump, but I don’t hate gays or transgender people. I’m sure you don’t. But you voted for a man who sought support from anti-LGBTQ groups. More important, you voted for his anti-LGBTQ policies, including eliminating same-sex marriage and giving states the ability to legalize discrimination.
You may say, I voted for Trump, but I don’t hate black people. I’m sure you don’t. But you voted for a man who was endorsed by the KKK, and whose speeches present all African-Americans as living in drug- and crime-infested ghettos. More important, you voted for his policies that will make the lives of real African-Americans more difficult and more dangerous.
You may say, I voted for Trump, but I don’t hate women. I’m sure you don’t. But you voted for a man whose misogyny was on clear display throughout the campaign. More important, you voted for his policies that would deny women necessary healthcare treatment and coverage, and make it illegal for women to fully control their own bodies.
You may say, I voted for Trump, but I’m not about hate or fear. I’m sure you aren’t. But you voted for a man whose entire campaign was premised on finding scapegoats, inciting alarm about specific minority groups, and promoting divisions across racial, gender and religious lines. More important, you voted for policies that will enshrine hate and embed fear in our daily lives.
Maybe you don’t think he really means any of that stuff. Maybe you don’t agree with any of his rhetoric or policies in these particular areas, but all of that’s outweighed by something else important to you. Maybe you don’t look at your vote as an endorsement of these policies.
I just want you to know what your vote looks like from the other side.
What it looks like to the Latino parents who are going to be afraid to let their kids go back to school. To the teenagers still trying to figure out who they are, and if they even have a reason to live. To the black men driving through your neighborhood on their way to work. To the Muslims who aren’t sure it’s safe to go to the mosque at night anymore. To the women who have to decide if they’re brave enough to report a sexual assault.
Too dramatic? Maybe. Honestly, I don’t know what it looks like to any of those people. I’m a straight, white middle-aged man who doesn’t have to worry about any of that, because none of these policies will have a direct impact on me. I have the luxury of thinking about all of this as an intellectual exercise instead of a fact of daily life.
But even just as an exercise, it’s hard to explain just how much it hurts.