Where is the path?

 

Over the past few days I have read so many well written articles with opinions on what happened Wednesday, all written by much smarter people than myself.  But still, I can’t remain silent.

 Before Trump, I was never political.  I voted; that’s it.  But in January of 2016 I attended my first local Democratic meeting, just a few days after Trump’s inauguration.  A year later I was the county chair.  There’s a reason I didn’t post much about where I was spending a great deal of my time.  I was afraid of confrontation.  The very same reason I’ve been afraid to put Democratic stickers on my car.  Why advertise a reason for my car to be keyed?

 During the last four years I’ve dealt with Democrats, Republicans, Independents, and Libertarians, as well as folks who refuse to vote because they don’t believe their voice matters.  The biggest lesson I’ve come away with, I have never been able to discuss issues with a Trump supporter.

 It’s not like we didn’t know who Donald Trump was.  There was plenty of evidence before Election Day in 2016.  And still, people supported this man that only stood for policies that would, and eventually did make all of our lives worse.  People voted for him because they believed his lies, most never realizing when he spoke of losers, we the general public were included. 

 Donald Trump was never about making America great, he was about making Donald Trump great. 

 Meanwhile our elected officials, federal and state, who are so afraid of losing a vote, say and do nothing.  In dealings with elected officials in my own state, what they say depends only on who they are speaking to.  “All politics are local” can indeed be a scary statement.  The only goal is to hold on to the seat, failing to put the good of the people before the good of themselves. 

 So now, here we are.  How do we recover, move forward?  More than once I have wondered if I was part of the problem.  I admit my social media feeds have been cleaned out over the past four years.  I have eliminated friends and family members.  I can’t continue to listen when the things they say have been proven to be false time and time again.  And I’ve heard all the excuses other people have made for those I have eliminated. “They can’t help it”, “It’s how they were raised” or “they’re just stuck in their ways”.   To me that’s unacceptable.  From the virus, to racism or the climate, it’s a morality issue.  You are responsible for yourself, to learn and grow, to care about your neighbor, to be tolerant, to be a decent human being.  Because you are wrong, do I have to make myself half wrong so we can meet in the middle? 

I’m ashamed of what my grandchildren have witnessed these past four years, of the legacy they are inheriting.  Make no mistake, I’m tired.  I’m angry.  But I am going to keep fighting.