You know that feeling when you wake up from a terrible dream, only to find out it was real? That’s what it’s like every day as we navigate a world where Donald Trump is a serious contender for the presidency of the United States.
My thoughts about his supporters are pretty clear—I’ve even asked some to unfriend me on social media. I stand by that decision; it’s hard to share space online with those who support someone I believe is unfit for leadership. I know I’m unlikely to change their minds.
But what do I say to my kids about those who think Trump is a better option than Hillary, whom they believe to be the Antichrist?
When my daughter, who is just six, asks about Trump supporters, I find myself stumbling over my words. The political reasons for my disdain are extensive; I don’t think Trump is even remotely qualified to lead, let alone run a country. If my only concern was his lack of qualifications or our differing views on policies, I could explain the political landscape to her. But my worries run much deeper.
I’m grateful my daughter attends a school with a diverse group of friends. How do I explain the support for a man who has called people from Mexico rapists, refused to denounce the KKK, mocked those with disabilities, and faced numerous lawsuits for discrimination? His daily remarks should be enough to sink anyone’s popularity, yet they seem trivial compared to the bigger picture of his unapologetic racism.
As a parent of a girl, I struggle with how to convey the implications of voting for someone who openly judges women based on their appearances, who refers to them in derogatory terms, and who even sexualizes his own daughter. What does that teach my little girl about self-worth? How can I instill confidence in her when the loudest voices around us send a completely different message about value based on gender, race, or appearance?
Typically, I try to adopt a “live and let live” approach. I’ve crafted a liberal bubble around myself, living in a neighborhood that reflects my values. My social media is filled with like-minded individuals. I no longer feel the need to maintain connections with those whose views clash with mine. If someone like Tom from kindergarten thinks that Obama is evil, I have no qualms about distancing myself from him online.
However, there’s a fine line between choosing who to invite into your life and choosing to silence perspectives. What does it say about our society that I hesitate to share my thoughts openly? In the past, I’ve written candidly about my mental health and motherhood struggles, facing criticism without fear. Yet now, even sharing this piece feels daunting.
It’s alarming that Donald Trump has encouraged his followers to take up arms against dissenters. This fear is not just about speaking out; it reflects a disturbing culture that limits free expression. Yes, I could choose to publish this anonymously, but that would make me profoundly sad. This issue transcends the words I write—it speaks to a culture of fear that we’ve entered.
What message does my silence send to my kids? I’ve considered the implications of fear and suppression and how subtly they shape our children’s beliefs about themselves and the world. I realize that the risk of remaining silent is greater than the risk of voicing my concerns. I might encounter harsh comments, but it’s better for me to hear those than for my children to internalize negativity through my silence.
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In summary, the ramifications of a Trump candidacy extend beyond politics; they challenge the values we instill in our children about self-worth, respect, and diversity. As parents, we must confront this reality and strive to foster an environment that encourages open dialogue and understanding, even when it’s uncomfortable.