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What a Trump Candidacy Means for Our Children
You know that feeling when you wake up from a nightmare, only to realize it’s the reality you’re living in? Each day, we find ourselves in a world where Donald Trump has supporters vying for the presidency of the United States. My feelings toward those individuals are pretty clear, and I’ve even asked them to unfriend me on social media. I maintain that request—those who support Trump probably won’t appreciate my perspective.
But what do I say to my daughter? My son? It’s not like I can sugarcoat Trump for my 6-year-old, but when she asks about his supporters, I find myself at a loss. There are countless political reasons why I believe Trump is a dangerous choice and utterly unfit for the role of president. If my primary concern were merely his qualifications or his policies, I could explain the political landscape to her. I would still be worried about our future, but at least I could provide some clarity.
I’m grateful that she attends a school with a wonderfully diverse group of children. How do I explain the backing of a man who has insulted those from Mexico, refused to denounce hate groups, and mocked individuals with disabilities? His shocking statements should be enough to sink anyone’s popularity, yet they seem minor compared to his long list of unapologetic racist comments. Unlike his casinos where the buffets are free, this buffet comes with a hefty cost and a side of misogyny.
How can I explain to my daughter—who will grow up to be a woman—the hurtful things Trump has said and the existence of those who accept his words? How do I break it down for her that voting for someone who routinely judges women by their appearance, calls them derogatory names, and even sexualizes his own daughter sends a troubling message?
What does this mean for her self-worth? How can I instill in her the belief that she defines her own value and that others’ judgments don’t shape who she is? How will she learn that worth is not determined by gender, race, or appearance when the opposite is being trumpeted from the highest office in the land?
I usually adopt a more “live and let live” approach. Yes, I’ve curated a liberal bubble around my life. I live in a predominantly liberal neighborhood, and my social media reflects that. Gone are the days when I felt the need to keep connections with everyone I’ve met. If someone from my past believes absurd things, I have no obligation to keep them in my online circle.
But there’s a difference between choosing whom to engage with and silencing myself. Why does it frighten me to share my thoughts? I’ve written openly about my struggles with mental health and motherhood, facing harsh comments online without fear. Yet this piece—while not particularly controversial by Trump standards—makes me anxious. I’m worried because Trump has incited his followers to attack dissenters. This isn’t just about my words; it’s about a culture of fear that has emerged.
In a nation where freedom of speech and press form the bedrock of our democracy, I feel muzzled. What does my silence convey to my children? I’ve reflected on fear, suppression, and how we shape our kids’ beliefs about themselves and the world around them. The risk of remaining quiet seems far greater than the risk of speaking out. Sure, I may receive unkind comments, but it’s better for me to face them than for my kids to internalize that silence.
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In summary, as we navigate these challenging discussions, it’s vital to address the implications of our political landscape on our children’s self-perception, values, and understanding of the world.