Saturday, November 12, 2016

Why can’t you just move on?

This blog was my first foray into what we now know as social media.  Here, as elsewhere, I made a concerted effort to keep my words neutral. My friends and family come from a wide array of vantage points and life circumstances, and I never wanted to risk alienating any of them with my opinions. The closest I got to anything political or religious were three positive Facebook posts: one for each of Obama’s elections and one when the Supreme Court ruled on marriage equality. But this year has been different. As I witnessed more and more people expressing their political opinions, I dipped my toe in those waters. I liked a few statuses. On the day before the election, I openly posted my support of Hillary.

And then my world went topsy-turvy.

A few things have happened this week that made me think I need to speak up. The first was the utter shock at the outcome. I began to wonder what more I could have done. Should have done. The second was when a friend sincerely posted some questions on Facebook. Why are people so upset? Do they think all Trump voters are bad people? I offered a brief response in the moment, but there was so much more I wanted to say. I don’t think all Trump supporters are bad people, and I think many of them are interested in answers to those questions and more.

This morning I woke to this confession in The Atlantic, and it captured so much of what I’ve been feeling. If I had spoken up, had the uncomfortable conversation on occasion, would the outcome have been different? Would my voice have helped persuade a few votes on the fence? Would those few votes have persuaded a few more? None of us will ever know. I regret every moment I didn’t challenge someone when they said that both candidates were equally bad. I will not risk remaining silent going forward.

With that in mind, here’s why we can’t just move on. If this were just about losing—as though this election were a game of Parcheesi and we could just pick up our pieces and be done—then the critics might be right: we sound like spoiled brats who can’t handle not getting our participation trophies. But that’s not what this is about. I’ve voted for losing campaigns before and, while certainly disappointing, I was able to move on.

This outrage and despair and grief is not about losing; it’s about what we’ve lost.

We’ve lost freedom and safety for millions of our fellow Americans. We’ve lost the America we knew and loved. We’ve lost the childlike naivety that had us believing our country was better than this.

Friends on the right have mentioned that this is just how people felt when Obama won. While I cannot speak for anyone else’s lived experience—if you tell me you were scared, the only reasonable response is to believe you—I’m curious what that felt like. Can you tell me what positions Obama espoused, or policies he enacted, that threatened the freedom or safety of your family? (This is a real question.)

I have some ideas for questions I’ll be addressing here over the coming weeks. If anyone has anything specific they’d like me to address, shoot me a note. I’m willing to try.

This is already longer than I wanted it to be but, if you’re still with me, I have a favor to ask: if you identify as both a Christian and a Trump supporter, read this. And in case I haven’t been clear before, let me say it overtly now, I am always willing to have a conversation.

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