The day after
I was at a restaurant a few days ago and we were eavesdropping on the table next to us. It was a group of 6 women. They were all talking about "the day after." What they felt like the day after Trump was elected president.
"I was in disbelief," one said. Another said she called her daughter, weeping. One woman said, "I kept thinking that maybe it wouldn't be that bad. I mean, for cripe sakes, he's a reality show idiot. He'd just be ineffectual, I hoped. And then he and his family were on 60 Minutes and he seemed almost tame. Said he wouldn't have time to tweet now. Boy, was I wrong!"
T and I looked at each other uneasily. That had been a hard night for us, too. I honestly think we were both in shock. I remember thinking the world had gone mad.
But, in retrospect, I wonder that we hadn't seen it coming. My entire family, save one sibling, are not just Trump supporters, but DIE HARD Trump supporters. When Trump won, I sat across from my sister in my living room a few days later. She told me that now I knew how SHE had felt when Obama won.
It took all I had not to laugh in her face. Was she kidding? No. She was not.
I still struggle with this. And I think I know why all the polls were wrong. There are many, many secret Trumpers out there. They don't admit to voting for him, but vote they do.
The day after Trump won, I was in my front yard struggling to pull out my Hillary Clinton sign. T had pushed it down deeply because it was our third one. The first two had been stolen. As I was yanking on it, a car pulled into my driveway. I warily looked up to see a teenaged girl get out and walk towards me.
"Let me help you," she said, and took one end.
Little by little, we pulled the sign out of the dirt.
"I'm not old enough to vote yet," she said. "But, I volunteered for Hillary's campaign. I mostly just swept and cleaned the bathroom and sent out mailings."
I told her that I was so sorry that this had happened. So sorry that my generation had LET this happen. This was on us. This was our watch. We had failed all of them.
At last the sign was out.
"Time for me to get back to school. I snuck out to go to Wendy's for lunch," she said.
We both were in tears. I set the sign down and took her in my arms for a long hug.
A car drove by. An older man with a creepy smile called out, "Tough titties, lezzies!"
We watched his car drive on, his arm waving at us lazily out the window.
The girl sighed. "And here we go, I suppose," she said. "This is the beginning."
I wanted to believe she was wrong. She wasn't.
"I was in disbelief," one said. Another said she called her daughter, weeping. One woman said, "I kept thinking that maybe it wouldn't be that bad. I mean, for cripe sakes, he's a reality show idiot. He'd just be ineffectual, I hoped. And then he and his family were on 60 Minutes and he seemed almost tame. Said he wouldn't have time to tweet now. Boy, was I wrong!"
T and I looked at each other uneasily. That had been a hard night for us, too. I honestly think we were both in shock. I remember thinking the world had gone mad.
But, in retrospect, I wonder that we hadn't seen it coming. My entire family, save one sibling, are not just Trump supporters, but DIE HARD Trump supporters. When Trump won, I sat across from my sister in my living room a few days later. She told me that now I knew how SHE had felt when Obama won.
It took all I had not to laugh in her face. Was she kidding? No. She was not.
I still struggle with this. And I think I know why all the polls were wrong. There are many, many secret Trumpers out there. They don't admit to voting for him, but vote they do.
The day after Trump won, I was in my front yard struggling to pull out my Hillary Clinton sign. T had pushed it down deeply because it was our third one. The first two had been stolen. As I was yanking on it, a car pulled into my driveway. I warily looked up to see a teenaged girl get out and walk towards me.
"Let me help you," she said, and took one end.
Little by little, we pulled the sign out of the dirt.
"I'm not old enough to vote yet," she said. "But, I volunteered for Hillary's campaign. I mostly just swept and cleaned the bathroom and sent out mailings."
I told her that I was so sorry that this had happened. So sorry that my generation had LET this happen. This was on us. This was our watch. We had failed all of them.
At last the sign was out.
"Time for me to get back to school. I snuck out to go to Wendy's for lunch," she said.
We both were in tears. I set the sign down and took her in my arms for a long hug.
A car drove by. An older man with a creepy smile called out, "Tough titties, lezzies!"
We watched his car drive on, his arm waving at us lazily out the window.
The girl sighed. "And here we go, I suppose," she said. "This is the beginning."
I wanted to believe she was wrong. She wasn't.
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