These are words I never thought I would utter. And don’t worry Lefties, I’m not a Trump supporter. But to my friends on the Right, I do have to give him props where props are due. You see I never thought of myself as political. I try my best to steer clear of those discussions between family and friends. They never end well.
I don’t make comments on Facebook when people speak of politics, besides an occasional “like.” I have always found myself somewhere in the middle. You can call me an independent but that party unfortunately never does much. So I am always left with a choice between the lesser of two evils because I have always exercised my right to vote. I don’t fit in and I’m really happy that I don’t. Usually keeping my opinions to myself I would never dream of actually writing a blog about politics.
And that’s why instead I’m writing a blog about ethics and that’s my ethics not my political views. It doesn’t mean that I think you are unethical or hateful if you vote for Trump. But if it wasn’t for Mr. Trump’s public vile rhetoric, I may not have had the courage to actually stand up for the values that I hold so dear and try to teach my daughter. And so I must say thank you to Donald Trump for making me take a stand. And I don’t have any blood coming out of my… wherever when I write this Mr. Trump but if I did, my words would be the same.
You see I am a Caucasian woman who was raised in the South as a Southern Baptist. My childhood was beautiful. I spent it running through the woods, climbing trees and catching tadpoles. “Yes Ma’am” and “yes Sir” were always used to address my elders. Switches left whelps on my bum if I was bad, so I learned not to be. I said my prayers before going to bed and grace before meals. Life was simple and sweet except for one thing that never seemed right even when I was six years old. Later I would learn that there was a name for what I was witnessing and it was called racism. It comes in many forms but it’s based in hate which is always based in fear.
Being shy when I was little, I didn’t start first grade off with many friends. When Nora Carol offered to play with me I was elated and we became fast buds. It made no sense to my little brain when the teacher forced us apart and I was not allowed to play with her because she was “dirty.” The tears in her eyes and the pain in my heart are still with me in my adulthood as I remember being told to go play with the “right” girls. I didn’t know what a “gypsy” or an “Irish Traveler” was but apparently, those children who had the same color of skin but different ethnic background were all thieves and unclean and not fit to play with the rest of us. It was my first lesson on hatred but oh there would be so many more to come just in case I didn’t pass this test.
Luckily I always scored an “F” but still to this day I’m not sure why. When most children are taught racism in tiny little towns in the South, unfortunately, a large number become practicing adults. But there was always something inside this little girl that would get physically ill when her brown friends were being called the “N” word openly or her aunt proclaimed that her best friend Catina couldn’t spend the night at her house because of her “nappy” hair. My stomach would ache and I would protest even back then when such a thing was acceptable or just blindly overlooked.
Attending a predominately African American high school, it was always amazing to me in my adolescence that our football team was called “The Rebels.” The mascot was a Confederate soldier who carried a Confederate flag, you know the thing that was just finally taken down from the state house in South Carolina in 2015. We were always taught that this flag represented our heritage. But my pubescent brain wondered if the Germans felt the same way about the Swastika? It had its origins 5000 years before Hitler turned it into the Nazi flag and represented “good-fortune” or “well-being.” I had a hard time believing that is what most people remembered about that symbol. In both images, I saw hate and I saw fear and my belly would hurt.
My high school also had separate proms. For those of you that don’t know what I am talking about, that’s one for the white folks held at a swanky hotel and one for everyone else held in the gym. I shit you not, Oprah did a story on this nonsense. But luckily the town finally became progressive and realized how offensive all this must be so the prom became integrated approximately fifty years after Brown V Board found it unconstitutional to have segregated education. Apparently, the Supreme Court ruling did not apply to prom parties.
These were formative memories and experiences. So when my belly started to hurt when I would hear these offhanded comments by Trump, those nightmares all came flooding back with so many more than what I have described. I knew he wasn’t proposing separating white from black but he was proposing separation based on ethnicity and religion. He also managed to throw in some degradation for women and people with disabilities as well. At least he is pretty inclusive when he purposely offends. He was entertaining America and there was a reason I refused to turn on my TV or watch the debates. But it didn’t matter, walking into a restaurant, the doctor’s lounge or the gym, he was on. He was given more press by the media than even he could have probably anticipated. And my belly would hurt.
It wasn’t until I read a blog on Facebook that I could actually understand what was happening to me. This wasn’t about my politics or his. This was about my ethics and his lack thereof. He disturbed the hell out of me and his energy felt as if it was trying to suck my soul right out of my belly. So instead of writing my feelings in my own words, I shared this blog with a dear friend. She was someone I trusted and loved like a sister. We had a soul connection and shared so many things and dreams and were even planning a business together. She was one of the few that I trusted the most.
We didn’t always agree on subjects but we were both open-minded, educated individuals who shared a passion to bring peace and love into our own lives and even the world. I had no idea how she planned to vote and I never thought I would care. I had always read with interest opposing articles on subjects that she sent with openness.
Feeling the need to reach out and have my voice be heard by someone that loved and accepted me unconditionally made her the appropriate choice. So when she took complete offense by the article, called me a liberal, made fun of me for even attempting to talk politics and defended Trump I thought I would vomit and my belly hurt.
But it got even worse. Apparently, that article spoke to my friend more than it did to me. Days later I had now called her and all her friends voting for Trump a racist, sexist, misogynistic mean hateful person by sending that article. I had been manipulated by the media, was intolerant, judgmental and truly the thing that I despised most.
Needless to say, I ended our business venture not because she was voting for Trump but because she was just plain nasty to me. Like Trump, she attacked opposing opinions and minimized my worth. Hopefully, our friendship will one day be repaired. But she and Donald taught me a thing or two.
Mostly I don’t need to be afraid of offending others or turn a blind eye when I see atrocities being committed and Trump is leading the pack by a landslide in my humble opinion not just in votes but in hateful rhetoric. But maybe using my own words would be a much better approach than using someone else’s and so now you have heard them.
And while I support everyone’s right to free speech, I also stand firm in my values of spreading love, light and kindness. I do my best to teach my daughter to respect all people regardless of their skin, sex, sexual preference, religion, inability to dance well and even those voting for Trump. We don’t call people fat or ugly and we surely don’t mock those with disabilities. We are not mean and we don’t call people names when they don’t agree with us. Our home is a sacred place and that kind of behavior is not tolerated or condoned.
My daughter just won an award in school. It was for demonstrating the character trait of Love amongst all her peers.
And that is why I will never vote for Trump or allow his energy into my home. He could be on either side and it wouldn’t matter. He goes against everything I’m trying to teach my young daughter that I’m proud to say has a deep, beautiful Mexican heritage. How on earth could I look myself in the mirror if I excuse that kind of behavior? What would I be teaching my child? What is he teaching America?
Luckily he taught me to stand up for my beliefs. And for that, I say thank you, Donald Trump.
