Today was the day I reached my breaking point. Perhaps we all have experienced a moment during this unprecedented political climate that pushed us over the edge. For me, it was two headlines: one announcing the KKK’s primary publication endorsing Donald Trump, and another detailing the firebombing of a black church in Mississippi with “Vote Trump” scrawled across its walls.
There are countless reasons to argue that Donald Trump is wholly unsuitable for the presidency. Many individuals, far more articulate and knowledgeable than I, have already laid out these points. I have tried to dismiss the few acquaintances I know who are casting their ballots for him. It may seem presumptuous, but studies show that those with less education are gravitating toward Trump. They simply don’t know any better. I have friends whose political views are much more conservative than mine. We often engage in thoughtful discussions about the government’s role in the economy, healthcare, corporate oversight, and international relations. Most of them are opting for third-party candidates or choosing to abstain from voting altogether. Some are supporting Hillary as a protest against a party that has strayed from rationality.
You must be willfully ignorant to overlook the blatant racism and misogyny that permeate both Trump’s campaign and his persona. His candidacy has unleashed a torrent of nationalism that had long simmered in the darker recesses of American society. He has given voice to a profound fear of the “other”—different races, cultures, and religions. His actions have normalized behaviors that no respectable citizen would have considered acceptable prior to this election season—publicly shouting racial slurs or engaging in racially motivated violence while cameras roll.
One can debate tax policies, regulations, and Supreme Court appointments until the cows come home, but the stark reality remains: casting a vote for Trump signifies an implicit acceptance, if not outright endorsement, of the most grotesque forms of racism and sexism in contemporary history.
A memory from over a year ago has been haunting me today as I process my feelings. At a family gathering, I was chatting with a distant relative about a trip to Washington, D.C., and expressed my hope that my children would see the White House. While holding my infant daughter, who is half-black, he replied, “Let’s just hope we can get the White House white again!”
The moment those words left his lips, both our expressions turned blank. He quickly realized that I was not the right audience for the cliché he had likely repeated elsewhere. I wish I could attribute it to ignorance, but this man is a physician who has cared for countless children in an emergency room. He had always seemed like a decent person.
Yet, some words simply cannot be unsaid. I hope he reflected on that moment and considered the implications of his statement—thought about my black husband, my two biracial sons, and my infant biracial daughter, and understood the hurt his words could cause. Perhaps he felt a twinge of regret or guilt.
We stood in silence for about thirty seconds, both unsure of what to say next. Eventually, I made an excuse and walked away. I haven’t seen him since.
I’m not sure why this memory resurfaced today, more than a year after it happened. Maybe it’s because of the acquaintances and distant relatives in my life who are choosing to support Trump. Much like that phrase that cannot be taken back, a vote for Trump is a choice that cannot be reversed. And it’s something I cannot simply forget. It’s personal.
There may be future encounters where I’ll smile and say “hello,” but I will certainly make my way to the other side of the room.
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In summary, the act of voting for someone like Trump carries weighty implications that go beyond political preferences. It touches on deeply personal experiences and shared values that can’t be undone.