The Bully In The White House
There has been a downward spiral in the U.S. (says me! Go write your own blog if you disagree) since the 2016 election. The vote for Trump (let's not get carried away though, he didn't win the popular vote), came as a shock to me, and to many others in my bubble.
On the day of the presidential election, I wore my 'The Future Is Female' t-shirt, and walked the streets of my neighborhood in an elevated state, thinking that 'history was going to be made that day.' I remember smiling to other women in the street. We passed by each other, signaling to each other: 'Hi sister. Today we are going to elect a FEMALE president!' We were ecstatic. We were overjoyed. We were sadly, wrong.
I walked into my favorite feminist store that day. I wasn't looking to buy anything, really. But rather to show my presence. Show my appreciation. I needed to feel the presence of my sisters, my girlfriends, the glorious women there, and everywhere. I took a selfie early that day, and I took one late that night, when the horror came down on me like a BOMB. A truth bomb. A truth I didn't knew that existed, a truth that shattered my feminist dreams that night. The truth that a large amount of people would accept a sexist, racist, accused rapist, corrupt bully, as the leader of the 'free' world.
I remember sitting in a Los Feliz bar, watching as the Trump clan walked on stage. They didn't sport any tears like I did, but they were as surprised as I was, to be on that stage. It was a delirious moment to us all, it seemed.
The vote for Donald J. Trump was an insult to women. Was an insult to minorities. Was an insult to the LGBTQ+ community. Was an insult to immigrants. Was an insult to environmentalists. Was an insult to any civil rights protester, justice seeker, idealist that thought we were on a trajectory of progress, and not a decline.
Over the past three and a half years the insults continued, but my shock has disappeared.
I have learned to shake them off, roll my eyes, yell at the TV. I've learned to anticipate the worst.
Have I normalized the incoming insults? HELL NO.
But I learned to put my 'defensive mode' as a woman, as an immigrant, as a jew, on MUTE. And I learned to listen, to pay attention, to brew so I can be ready and primed and focused for the aftermath.
And the aftermath is close. It's coming. It's right around the corner. The recent protests for Black Liver Matter and the general global solidarity with the movement towards justice and equality, have given me hope.
ARE more people changing their view about the bully in the white house? Or is the pendulum just turning back and forth every number of years? I haven't followed politics long enough to have a clear answer. And if I learned something from Israeli politics - idealism is a lonely loser most of the time, and the bully often takes over. And we all know how hard it is to face a bully. In Israel the pendulum hasn't turned in quite some time. In fact, their bully has multiplied time and time again...which is discouraging to say the least.
But I have some hope for the U.S to grow the fuck up. To face the bully. To vote. To show up. To strive
to be better. To be an actual leader of the free world for a change.
Come on America, we are rooting for you.
*My hope is small, like a seed. But it has the potential to be mighty, to sprout, to blossom and to feed. May we all plant our seeds of hope for a better society, for a better white house, for a better world.
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In April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling.
Header Art: Daniel Landerman