Following the disastrous election result of 2016 I needed to put this into words. Had I been courageous enough to publish it at the time I would have, and didn’t find the DK community for another year. Here I feel enough sense of community to be comfortable sharing this with you all.
It’s Different This Time
I’ve participated in the political process my entire life. In 1972 I was in the first group of 18 year olds that were granted the right to vote. A liberal “child of the 60’s”, I’ve had my share of electoral disappointments. My first ballot was cast with pride, and yet Richard Nixon was re-elected.
When you believe in something, put your heart into seeing it succeed, and have the effort fall short, it is a bitter pill to swallow. Then you find the strength to accept the outcome, and search for common ground with those who have supported the opposition. Always.
Not this time. Something dark hangs over the result, and it goes beyond the mere shock of the unexpected. If you have participated at all you know. You hesitate to broach the subject in all but the safest places, saving the discussion for only those times when you are in the company of those who share your view.
Those who do not share your view are remarkably silent in your presence, and this is different also. The victors have never been so quiet, no staking out of bragging rights, no swagger for having been on the winning team. Whether this is out of some empathy for your disappointment, or because they are uncertain if they’ve done the right thing is hard to discern. Perhaps I have this wrong and this is a particularly personal experience because those around me know the depth of my convictions, and do not wish to light the powder-keg.
I’ve tried for months now to understand why it is so palpably different. Why this unsettled feeling every time I see the man who now sits in the Oval Office? I can pin-point many instances when I sensed something amiss during his candidacy. While I’ve disagreed with many a candidate over the years, from both major parties, this went beyond issues.
I was completely stunned when I saw candidate Trump mock a disabled reporter. This was the kind of behavior that we would be mortified to see our children display, indeed we would take the time to demonstrate how hurtful to others it is to act in such a manner. His denial that he even remembered the reporter was hard to reconcile with the manner in which he so clearly imitated his affliction.
His reaction to protesters at his rallies was another point to give pause. Who would suggest that individuals (in a crowd that far outnumbered them) be “roughed up”, or wish for a return to the time when they would be “taken out on a stretcher”? All of this to the delight of his supporters, to whom he offered legal support if their actions ran afoul of the law.
His insulting attitude towards John McCain and to Gold Star parents furthered this concern. I couldn’t imagine how anyone without personal experience in the brutal fog of war, or without having had that brutality visited upon his own flesh and blood, could coldly offer his derisive opinions on their sacrifice.
He has had a history of describing women in utter disregard for their humanity. Calling them pigs, and rating them in terms of their bodies. Proclaiming that “no one cares what you do as long as you have a nice piece of a#% on your arm”. I recoil in horror for every woman in my life as I even recall his words. We are all in debt to a woman, if only to the mother that brought you into this world. How can he compartmentalize in this way?
Finally there was the audio/video of a 60 year old man openly discussing what can only be described as sexual assault. I cannot dismiss this, as others have done, as merely “locker-room” talk. I’ve been in locker rooms, and those who demonstrate such overt disrespect for women are not typically accepted by those around them. Real men will call them out for having done it. If there are any present.
There was an overarching sense in his words and actions that defined his persona. A life of privilege, wealth, and power had developed into a sense of entitlement. How else can you reconcile his lack of concern for, well, almost anyone?
Little by little a picture emerged, and it has echoes that run back years. He finds himself surrounded and encouraged by those who defer to his power, perhaps even basking in the reflection of it. How would you describe the sad individual that engaged in banter with someone who was openly describing himself as a sexual predator? A sycophant or, in terms reminiscent of the playground, a toady.
This entitled behavior fits a single definition, and those that surround him help fulfill that definition in their willingness to follow. Bully.
In the moment that I came to that description, I understood. Everyone has known a bully, or been exposed to one. Don’t we all fall somewhere on the continuum of this awful facet of human behavior? At one end of the scale lies the bully, and at the other the bullied.
Along that continuum are those who are in thrall to the bully, not being powerful enough to assume the role themselves, they support and willingly adopt the behavior. Further back are those who are in fear of the power of the bully, feeling as though they haven’t enough personal strength to challenge the behavior, yet some of them will fall in line behind the bully as well.
Yes, there are those who will stand up to the bully, often risking personal safety to defend those who are his victims. Such heroes are rare, but the bully knows them and takes evasive action, avoiding opportunities to be challenged. There may be some people who have never been exposed to a bully, they should count their blessings.
Finally there are those who are, or have been, victims. This is the group for whom the man in the Oval Office resonates with horrific overtones. Many have had the years to subsume the memories, some are undoubtedly too recent and far too raw to push them from conscious thought. This is the shadow that makes it different.
Nearly a half century ago, a youngster lay face down in a snowbank. Having been warned by a schoolmate that it wouldn’t be smart to wait at the usual bus-stop, he had decided to walk up the street a few blocks to the next stop. “He’s got it out for you” was the warning, payback for a slight of some sort that could hardly be recalled. Overtaken from the rear, an elbow to the back of the head sent him sprawling into the snowbank, covered in a fresh coat of snow, but underneath it remained frozen hard from the last thaw and freeze cycle. The layer of snow was insufficient to soften the impact, the ice sliced into his face, and his teeth lacerated his gums.
The laughter of the bully’s toadies was the awful soundtrack to a movie that would play over and over in the boy’s mind. Covering his head to avoid injury, he felt the sting of the cold snow mixed with the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. The passage of years did not erase the feeling of the boots that delivered blow after blow upon his back and ribs. Without the physical strength, or even the belief that he was able to defend himself, he waited until they had exhausted whatever fun this was for them and walked off.
Returning home, he embarrassingly explained to his mother that had slipped and fallen into the snowbank. It would do no good to tell the tale. A father with a penchant for forcing a son into physically defending himself would neither resolve the issue nor build the strength needed to confront the bully.
The injuries that showed on his face were easily explained away by the lie. The injuries to his ribs and back were hidden until the bruises disappeared with time. The injuries to his psyche would take years to heal, and perhaps haven’t yet.
The course of that healing is a difficult one, some of those stones are not easy to overturn, and what lies underneath them can be hard to face. It is the primary reason it took me weeks just to write the last three paragraphs.
In a culture that praises strength and courage, those who find it difficult to summon either quality are often dismissed. “Toughen up” and “Don’t back down” are phrases that can haunt the gentler spirits among us, instilling a sense of insufficiency of will. Victims of the bully can carry that with them for years; it colors much of what they do in life.
So this is the lens through which I see the new Commander in Chief. This goes beyond being a “sore loser” as those in support of the man would have you believe. I don’t believe I am alone in this. Bullying has gone on for all of human history in one form or another. Those who know it feel it deep in their bones, and struggle to give it voice.
The reason I cannot seem to further any relationship with those who support this President is that their acquiescence to his behavior means they either do not recognize the acts of a bully, or they are willing participants in it. As much as I do not wish to tear asunder friendships of years, if I sense that they are willing participants it is disqualifying. They are the toadies that fall in line behind their leader.
With this realization I thought that perhaps I could bring others to understand as well. If it can be accepted that bullying is a human behavior that has a scale upon which your relationship to it is described, you must ask yourself;
Where am I on this scale?
Are you a follower? If you are, what is it that prevents you from seeing this man for who he really is?
If not, are you merely tolerant? Tolerance of a bully will not prevent the worst of their instincts from being visited upon those without power. It’s a tacit approval of their actions. Do not be fooled that this behavior was an aberration, just a campaign tactic. It is not something that can be turned on and off.
Hopefully your answer finds you closer to the other end of the scale. Perhaps you’re among those who’ve never found the strength to stand in opposition. You are not alone, and you can find strength in numbers. Perhaps you are the hero, but heroes are hard to find. Often the hero never knows until the fateful moment that it is thrust upon them. A hero may arise from among us yet.
Certainly my depiction of this man will be written off by some as the ramblings of a victim looking to find a surrogate for the bully of his childhood, with intent to exact some sort of revenge. I expect that.
On the other hand, perhaps you are also struggling to understand what it is about this that so deeply disturbs you. If I have helped to illuminate that in some way I’ve done what I set out to do. Harness the power of your outrage and put it to use in defense of your country.
This is a story that has not yet been finished, a tale in progress. We the people will write this story in its entirety, and I hope that the tale will demonstrate that, in the end, it is the people of good heart and intentions that guide the course of our nation.