Taking It All In

The weeks since November 8^th have had a surreal aspect.  The impending Trump presidency is something which, on some days, I can’t believe is happening, and on others I face with mingled resignation and dread.

When I met with my 4 p.m. section on Election Day, the idea that Trump would win still seemed farfetched.  So farfetched that I played the clip from The Daily Show in which Trevor Noah reflects back on Trump’s first term on Election Day 2020.  The class laughed knowing such a thing was unthinkable.

I spent the first part of the evening working on an online course I’m scheduled to teach in the spring (which is a whole other source of aggravation I won’t get into right now).  Around 8 p.m., I took a break from my academic toils and clicked on the POLITICO website to check up on the election returns…and felt my stomach tighten.

I leaned  out my office door into the hallway and saw one of my students, an activist, chatting with a group of people.  I urgently waved her into my office, and she and the others clustered around my desk.  For the next hour, as students filtered in and out, we watched disbelievingly as Clinton fell farther and farther behind in the electoral vote count, at which point I decided I couldn’t watch any more.

Not having eaten since breakfast I dropped by a Mexican place on my way home.  Dining alone, I grabbed a seat at the bar. 

Naturally, the TV was on, and several of the patrons were weighing in on the news.  At one end of the bar, a paunchy middle aged white guy, three sheets to the wind, loudly proclaimed he was glad Trump won because he’d send all the illegals back to Mexico.  (Given that half the folks in the room were Latino/a, the fact no one took a swing at the jerk said volumes about them.  At least they were civil.) 

At the other end of the bar a woman, equally inebriated, was weeping and shouting that Trump was going to take away her right to choose.  I made a point of leaving after hastily finishing my dinner.

The next day, I felt fine.  Then I remembered the day before.  At work I was hard pressed to explain the result.  After all, like a lot of people, I found it unlikely a year ago that Trump would ever attain the Republican nomination let alone the Presidency.  Asked by a colleague at a holiday function what I thought of The Donald, I scornfully answered, “He’s a buffoon!”  When a student last fall kidded me about leaving the country if Trump was elected I borrowed a line from the movie Office Space and said, “Why should I leave?  He’s the one who sucks!”  It seemed funny at the time.

Eleven, twelve months later my institution’s mental health counselors were announcing their office was open for drop-in visits by students overwhelmed by the election results.  At first I thought this was a bit of an overreaction, but reconsidered when I remembered that those people who had borne the rhetorical brunt of Trump’s campaign rhetoric—immigrants, women, gays and lesbians—might feel a trifle vulnerable right about now.

Still, some of the student antics I heard about from my fellow proffies did make me shake my head at how they took advantage of the climate of worry.  My favorite was that of the student who asked his professor for credit on a missed assignment.  The reason?  The student had to marry his boyfriend before President Trump ended same-sex marriage.  He offered cell phone photos of the nuptials as evidence.  I found this example amusing, because nothing short of a constitutional amendment could overturn the Obergefell decision and I doubt SCOTUS would reverse itself.  It was even more amusing when I learned the student was a poli sci major and should have known better.

For my part, I told my students the same thing I’ve been telling everyone else who has asked me how best to get through the next four years.  Don’t sit back and let circumstances get you down.  Get involved in those causes you may feel are threatened by a Trump presidency.  If women’s reproductive rights are at stake for you, volunteer with Planned Parenthood or similar organizations.  If it’s immigrant rights, work with groups seeking to protect them.  Contribute to the ACLU.  Just…do…something.  This is not a time for sitting on your hands.  Remember that you have agency.

There’s not much more I can add to this advice.  Please consider acting upon it.  And for God’s sake be vigilant after January 19^th.  Let’s hope our fears prove unfounded, but be prepared for the worst.

© 2016 The Unassuming Scholar 

End of an Era

The passing of Fidel Castro has evoked mixed feelings for me.  Initially I felt a sense of disbelief, as if he might last forever as a living, breathing museum piece legacy of the Cold War.  Fidel was a presence on the world stage for my whole life, and so his death struck me in the manner that, say, the demise of Queen Elizabeth undoubtedly will when that time comes. 

Before Americans were taught by their leaders to fear and hate Muslims, they feared and hated Communists.  Cuba, so close to the United States, was a particular source of unease.  Our mainstream news media played up the Castro regime’s repressiveness, enthusiastically echoed by politicians and the exile community.  That Fidel did not go the way of the leaders of the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, that it was not until after he stepped aside in favor of brother Raul that Cuba began the first tentative steps on the road toward capitalism already trod by China and Vietnam, caused consternation among American leaders.

On the other hand, Fidel’s death has elicited laudatory retrospectives of his life, thought, and work among progressives.  I tend to view him in terms of his whole record.  By his own admission he was a dictator, albeit a “sui generis dictator.” His regime had an abysmal record on civil liberties.  It repressed and persecuted the LGBT community.  Castro was perfectly willing to foment nuclear war between the U.S. and Soviet Union.  His emptying the jails of Cuba’s worst criminals during the Mariel boatlift was hardly a laudable gesture, either.

Notwithstanding all this, the Cuban Revolution was a net gain for Cuba.  For the first time, Cuba was a fully sovereign nation.  The revolution broke the grip of American corporations and American organized crime on the economy.  It brought about a fair distribution of wealth.  It placed agriculture in the hands of the people who worked the land.  It led to Cuba having the highest literacy rate in the Caribbean as well as having its best educated populace.  Most importantly, it made quality healthcare universally available, an endeavor at which the United States has failed miserably.

The fall of the Soviet Union and the ensuing “Special Period” did result in some dents in the revolution’s edifice.  Raul Castro’s willingness to make concessions to the neoliberal order is worrisome though inevitable.  As the country reopens to American investment and tourism one sees the specter of pre-1959 Cuba slowly rising like a miasma.  (Ironically, during the era when the CIA toyed with a number of novel ways to assassinate Fidel, he shrugged off the threat by saying that if he were to die the United States would then have to contend with Raul and “he’s even more radical than I am!”)  I wonder what Fidel may have thought of the first signs of his work being undone.  Did he acquiesce to this process?  This seems unthinkable to the point of cognitive dissonance.

And so, Fidel’s death represents a further loss of hope of preserving the gains of the Cuban Revolution.   I suppose all there’s left is the prospect of playing roulette and blackjack at the Havana Hilton for the first time in generations.  Bring on the Yanqui tourists!

© 2016 The Unassuming Scholar

The New Reality (Show)

In the age-old struggle between the Yahoos and Houyhnhnms, bet on the Yahoos. 

For once, I am at a loss for words even though I’m not quite surprised.  The next four years will be interesting, to say the least.