The weeks since November 8th 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 19th. Let’s hope our
fears prove unfounded, but be prepared for the worst.
© 2016 The Unassuming Scholar
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