It’s been a while. Too long really.
I stopped lurking and starting writing at the time Trump officially took his place as the idol that Republicans that were all too happy and willing to stand for in violation the 1st and 2nd Commandments. My reaction then was to be angry. Viscerally angry.
After his election and the dismantling of nearly all federal standards and practices with a complicit Republican Party and a media that still gives voice to “both sides” I felt despair.
My reaction now in the face of a preventable pandemic, the murder of George Floyd, the Gestapo wishes of Trump and all too eager acquiescence from the likes of Tom Cotton and Bill Barr is back to anger. Boiling and out of control rage. The same anger that prompted me to write a diary that I wrote right before Trump’s inauguration I felt the need to revisit and let loose even further. It felt great to write that and I hate how accurate it was and turned out to be. I wanted even more personal catharsis by calling out the traitors who have placed us in this fight for the soul of our country for who they are.
My feelings from that diary still stand but something happened right before I was about to re-write that diary that gave me a glimmer of hope...
The image you see here belongs is a part of the house across the street from me and is the giant middle finger that I’ve woken up to every day since the middle of February. In spite of everything that had transpired from his campaign to his election to that mid-February day including all the endless lies, the racism, the xenophobia, kids in cages, “very fine people,” the corruption, the criminal conduct, everything that is way too long to even name, the people who live there put that first sign up right before the coronavirus was a real threat to our nation and before Joe Biden became our presumptive nominee. It wasn’t long after that sign was later joined by a second Trump sign with an American flag sandwiched in the middle. Red Christmas lights and individual spotlights would later act as ornaments to the signs that were practically begging the neighborhood to “LOOK AT US.” It was a display that had the same tone and tenor of an ALL CAPS Trump Twitter rant at whatever or whoever hurt his delicate and deranged fee-fees at that point in time.
For a little context on why it has been so jarring to see that sign, the street I live on is wide and a lot of people and their families use it to go for a walk, jog, or bike ride. I live in a mostly blue state but with plenty of shades of purple. We’re also a very friendly neighborhood as well. There are a lot of families from a number of backgrounds, many of whom are 1st or 2nd generation immigrants to the country. When we’re outside there’s always a smile and a friendly hello. What we lack are gratuitous displays of political causes, leanings or affiliations. Except for this one house directly in my daily view.
That ended yesterday.
As I went outside for a moment in the afternoon, I noticed that the signs weren’t there anymore. The signs, the flag, the lights, all of it had been taken down. In the wake of everything that has been happening, this felt like a small victory that I desperately needed. I remain skeptical that they will remain down but in the 24 hours after I first noticed to writing this, nothing is back up on that fence.
The signs are gone.
From February until yesterday this house and the family that lives in it continued the very visible, unwavering and unabashed public support for Trump. 100,000 dead Americans didn’t change that. Millions unemployed and an economy ruined didn’t change that. The murder of George Floyd and the protests that followed didn’t change that.
But I do believe that Trump’s photo-op at St. John’s Church may have finally done it.
I don’t really know my neighbors across the street. We’ve never formally met or been introduced. My only interaction with them was extremely uncomfortable and unwelcoming. They don’t socialize with much of the neighborhood either. They tend to engage only with themselves or the same group of people who I don’t believe are from our town.
But here’s what I do know about them. They are deeply deeply religious. They are strict church on Sundays, grace before every meal, private schooling for their kids, full on nativity scene and ‘Keep Christ in Christmas’ religious. That and their public displays of Republican support during election seasons have been prevalent for as long as I’ve lived here.
On Monday, Donald Trump ordered the teargassing of protesters in Lafayette Park in order to make a giant spectacle of his ability to hold a bible like he had just found the last bottle of vodka for that night’s rager right in front of St. John’s Church. On Tuesday the backlash from religious leaders was swift and thunderous. On Wednesday, my neighbor’s Trump signs disappeared and haven’t returned since.
I spoke to my parents last night and I had told them about the sign since they would regularly sneer at it every time they would come to visit. I get my cynicism from my Mom. She felt that it would be right back up as soon as some of the news slows down a bit and more time has passed from George Floyd’s murder and the protests. I couldn’t really disagree with her. We’ve been down this road before. We see racism and despicable acts as plain as day. We feel and join the outrage. And then life resumes, the people responsible aren’t held accountable and nothing changes. The system resumes placing a knee on the backs of black and brown people and the signs go right back up lest white privilege be challenged any further.
But I get my sense of optimism from my Dad. He believes in the best in everyone. You’ll never hear a single person say a bad word about my Dad because he genuinely believes in the good in people no matter their race, religion, political party or anything else. So he told me a story about someone he’s done business with for a long time. A deeply deeply Christian man who has forever been conservative in his views and his votes. They spoke earlier that day. My Dad told me that this man used words about Donald Trump that he has never heard him say in all the years they’ve known each other. This man, in all of his four-letter word glory, told my Dad that he was finished with Trump.
And that along with the signs that are now gone have given me hope. Hope that this nightmare will end. Hope that people have had enough. Hope that there is a better America after Trump. Hope that the light that has shined on the ugly disease of Trumpism has showed us at our worst and we can now start to build a better version of ourselves and this country.
These are just a couple of personal anecdotes. There are plenty of examples all over social media of people digging their heels even further. There’s still a chance that this is just wishful thinking and the signs go right back up. But this still gave me a glimmer of hope. Anger is going to remain and anger is going to help carry us through November. But we need some real faith and optimism that there’s a better America beyond in reach that.
Friday, Jun 5, 2020 · 1:53:33 AM +00:00
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JMillman
Was just hanging out with my daughter before bed and now seeing all the recs. Thank you all so very much. This is just a small example of hope, but it’s hope nonetheless and we could all use that right now. Thank you for sharing your stories as well and hopefully there are many more between now and November
Friday, Jun 5, 2020 · 7:11:22 PM +00:00
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JMillman
Just one more quick update from me. First of all, I’m stunned this has been rec’d this much so THANK YOU ALL!! I’m more lurker than writer but I’ve always admired this community so this means so much to me. Second, it’s been over 48 hours. The signs remain down. I remain hopeful it stays that way. If they don’t, then I won’t be shocked either. To all who’ve read and commented I’ll leave you with this: Positivity and hope for change in people are good things. Anger and cynicism aimed at those who have rightfully earned it are good things. Lets use both to our advantage over the coming months. Thank you all again!