While attending the annual Utah Shakespeare Festival/Southern Utah University Shakespeare Competition in Cedar City, it came out that the GOP nominee for president laughingly confessed, in a private situation in which he happened to be recorded, that he liked the idea of sexually assaulting women. I listened to the whole tape, and, like almost all of America, I've been trying to figure some stuff out as a result.
I was never going to vote for Donald Trump. I already expressed my dismay at what the Republican party has done in the name of party politics. I wasn't about to give my vote to the party anyway, so, for many months, I got to watch with bemusement as I wondered how Utah was coping with the identity crisis. What to do when the Republicans' hateful rhetoric, racist policies, and misogynistic attitudes came to a head and that head was Trump? What would Utah do in the face of seeing what their party long believed in?
Now, some of you may be bristling at this depiction of the GOP. That's fine; people are entitled to their opinions, regardless of how wrong they are. Because of lip service to the Founding, a myopic worship of meritorious economics, and an insistence on the status quo, Utah (generally speaking) has been one of the reddest states around. The state is a guaranteed vote for almost anyone with an R by their name (with Matheson as a recent exception; he couldn't long survive the tidal Tea wave that crashed through the country, however). On the national stage, the state* is reliably red. And they're red because of a long-standing claim of conservativism that Utah buys into time and time again. While on an individual basis, I think there are conservative Republicans, there's little evidence that they are either a commodity within their party, or, in some ways, even appreciated.
Look, the GOP has never been big on little government: They're big on their type of big government. To pretend otherwise is patently false. Despite cries by the GOP of their hatred of socialism, my tax money has been redistributed to the manufacturing (through private firms) to create bombs that have killed children, either because we launched them, or we sold them to people who launched them. That violates at least three supposed tenets of conservativism: Personal autonomy (dead kids), personal property (taxes), and family values (again, dead children). I'm not saying that the military isn't protecting us or keeping us safe; I'm saying that my taxes have been redistributed to fund death.
And speaking of death, the anti-abortion party (one of the strongest reasons, I think, that Utah continually votes for the GOP) is so pro-life that its national convention invited a speaker to talk about Blue Lives Matter. The problem with this narrative, is that until there was a Black Lives Matter movement, there was no Blue Lives Matter movement. It's reacted to an ill in society and tries to shout about how the new pressures are incorrect. If the GOP cares so much about life that they want to ensure that no woman gets a legal, safe abortion, then why are they opposed to a group whose actual name has the word LIVES in it? The GOP isn't interested in minorities--Flint, Michigan is a horrific example of this.
But, look, this isn't to convince anyone of anything. These are tired talking points and any idiot can look up arguments with a solid internet connection and a single thumb to this and other issues. No, this post isn't about that--it's about how incredibly disappointed I am in my fellow Americans that the outrage over the inevitable result--the logical conclusion to GOP politics--is finally coming out. Donald Trump has been, from the outset of his campaign, the natural consequence of GOP politics in the twenty-first century. Trump is not an anomaly. He is not an outlier. He is not going away. He is not an option--and neither is the entire Republican party. They are founded on hatred, exploitation, and a reversion to a world in which the American dream was told to all and reserved for a few.**
I'll give kudos to Mitt Romney who, from the beginning, made no conciliatory gesture toward Trump. There are a handful of others within the GOP who didn't endorse the man--and many others who are taking back their endorsements. But here lies the point: It's only now that people are walking up to this man? Why did no one believe the women who have, for years, sued Trump over allegations of sexual harassment and misconduct? Why did no one care when the Khan family was attacked by Trump and Trump surrogates? Why is this the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back?
If you're outraged by Trump's words about women know, imagine having seen his meteoric rise while you were part of the Muslim community, the immigrant community, or the Black community. That feeling of outrage at Trump's vileness is the entire year and a half of this election for them. Are you worried that Donald Trump, a man with so little self-control that he believes he has the right to touch a woman anywhere and that it's okay, will become the face of America for the next four years? Does it worry you that a man who claims so much wealth, tax-savvy abilities, and economic competency is going to be the president, but has yet to verify his claims about being wealthy, tax-savvy, or economically competent? If you dread this--or any of the other implications of a Trump presidency--then you should realize that your dawning, trickle-down outrage over Trump is the daily experience for every minority*** in the country.
From my experience being a cis-het white male, unless something immediately touches my life, I struggle to have sympathy or empathy. This is something I'm working on, personally, and I've a long way to go. But as a writer, a teacher, and mostly as a human being, it's my responsibility to believe the underrepresented, the downtrodden, and the voiceless. While there are rights and wrongs in the world, my vote is always going to be toward the ones with less power, less voice, fewer opportunities.
America will be far greater without Trump in power. And if that idea outrages you, I have no response to that.
---
* Salt Lake City and its close environs are purple--that's as far as I'll go. To think there are any blue spots in the state is, I think, to misread what's actually going on here.
** If your comments to this post are to include anything about "both parties do it" or "the Democrats are just as bad", then you're part of the problem. The Democrats sure are a crappy party--parties are, in and of themselves, a crappy idea--and they absolutely were founded on racist ideals (Andrew Jackson, anyone?). This point is irrelevant for two reasons: 1) this post is about the GOP; I do not subscribe to the idea that "fair and balanced" is needed in every discussion; and 2) going after the "other side" in this is a diversionary tactic that the hard truths of our political landscape is attempting to hide behind. This is my forthright feelings about the toxicity inside the GOP, and what the Democrats do with their campaigns, candidates, and power is out of the scope of this post.
*** I often hear about how the country was founded as a republic, not a democracy. That's like saying that a car runs with an engine, not gasoline. While the first part is true (a car can only run when it has an engine), how the engine is powered is absolutely a part of the equation. Despite a lot of inference and crystal-balling about the Founders' opinions on religion, one of the most revolutionary things about that old Enlightenment document of the Constitution is that it invokes power, not from God or the Church (as had been the European ideal since forever), but from "the people". Democracy is woven into the fabric of our Constitution: it is the fuel of our engine. Enfranchisement wouldn't be an issue otherwise. As a result, the voice of "the people" will have to be a majority rules indicator. That's what democracy is--the people make their voices heard. The republican part of the Constitution is that the people's voice can't overrule the rulebook (see, for example, Proposition 8 and the subsequent legal battles). If everyone in, say, Idaho voted to reinstate slavery, the Constitution (amended, of course) would put the brakes on that idea, preventing the state--and the people--from following through. The point of this is that the fear of the tyranny of the majority (or minority), while understandable, is not sufficient claim to preserve systemic oppression. There's a worry about the tail wagging the dog, and I understand that. But I don't think that expanding rights to underrepresented and disadvantaged swaths of our country is an indication of that. LGBTQ+ and non-White people of every descent are in perpetual positions of exploitation and discrimination. Desiring greater justice in the country for people of every type is not about being under the "tyranny of the minority"; it's about being a good person.
I was never going to vote for Donald Trump. I already expressed my dismay at what the Republican party has done in the name of party politics. I wasn't about to give my vote to the party anyway, so, for many months, I got to watch with bemusement as I wondered how Utah was coping with the identity crisis. What to do when the Republicans' hateful rhetoric, racist policies, and misogynistic attitudes came to a head and that head was Trump? What would Utah do in the face of seeing what their party long believed in?
Now, some of you may be bristling at this depiction of the GOP. That's fine; people are entitled to their opinions, regardless of how wrong they are. Because of lip service to the Founding, a myopic worship of meritorious economics, and an insistence on the status quo, Utah (generally speaking) has been one of the reddest states around. The state is a guaranteed vote for almost anyone with an R by their name (with Matheson as a recent exception; he couldn't long survive the tidal Tea wave that crashed through the country, however). On the national stage, the state* is reliably red. And they're red because of a long-standing claim of conservativism that Utah buys into time and time again. While on an individual basis, I think there are conservative Republicans, there's little evidence that they are either a commodity within their party, or, in some ways, even appreciated.
Look, the GOP has never been big on little government: They're big on their type of big government. To pretend otherwise is patently false. Despite cries by the GOP of their hatred of socialism, my tax money has been redistributed to the manufacturing (through private firms) to create bombs that have killed children, either because we launched them, or we sold them to people who launched them. That violates at least three supposed tenets of conservativism: Personal autonomy (dead kids), personal property (taxes), and family values (again, dead children). I'm not saying that the military isn't protecting us or keeping us safe; I'm saying that my taxes have been redistributed to fund death.
And speaking of death, the anti-abortion party (one of the strongest reasons, I think, that Utah continually votes for the GOP) is so pro-life that its national convention invited a speaker to talk about Blue Lives Matter. The problem with this narrative, is that until there was a Black Lives Matter movement, there was no Blue Lives Matter movement. It's reacted to an ill in society and tries to shout about how the new pressures are incorrect. If the GOP cares so much about life that they want to ensure that no woman gets a legal, safe abortion, then why are they opposed to a group whose actual name has the word LIVES in it? The GOP isn't interested in minorities--Flint, Michigan is a horrific example of this.
But, look, this isn't to convince anyone of anything. These are tired talking points and any idiot can look up arguments with a solid internet connection and a single thumb to this and other issues. No, this post isn't about that--it's about how incredibly disappointed I am in my fellow Americans that the outrage over the inevitable result--the logical conclusion to GOP politics--is finally coming out. Donald Trump has been, from the outset of his campaign, the natural consequence of GOP politics in the twenty-first century. Trump is not an anomaly. He is not an outlier. He is not going away. He is not an option--and neither is the entire Republican party. They are founded on hatred, exploitation, and a reversion to a world in which the American dream was told to all and reserved for a few.**
I'll give kudos to Mitt Romney who, from the beginning, made no conciliatory gesture toward Trump. There are a handful of others within the GOP who didn't endorse the man--and many others who are taking back their endorsements. But here lies the point: It's only now that people are walking up to this man? Why did no one believe the women who have, for years, sued Trump over allegations of sexual harassment and misconduct? Why did no one care when the Khan family was attacked by Trump and Trump surrogates? Why is this the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back?
If you're outraged by Trump's words about women know, imagine having seen his meteoric rise while you were part of the Muslim community, the immigrant community, or the Black community. That feeling of outrage at Trump's vileness is the entire year and a half of this election for them. Are you worried that Donald Trump, a man with so little self-control that he believes he has the right to touch a woman anywhere and that it's okay, will become the face of America for the next four years? Does it worry you that a man who claims so much wealth, tax-savvy abilities, and economic competency is going to be the president, but has yet to verify his claims about being wealthy, tax-savvy, or economically competent? If you dread this--or any of the other implications of a Trump presidency--then you should realize that your dawning, trickle-down outrage over Trump is the daily experience for every minority*** in the country.
From my experience being a cis-het white male, unless something immediately touches my life, I struggle to have sympathy or empathy. This is something I'm working on, personally, and I've a long way to go. But as a writer, a teacher, and mostly as a human being, it's my responsibility to believe the underrepresented, the downtrodden, and the voiceless. While there are rights and wrongs in the world, my vote is always going to be toward the ones with less power, less voice, fewer opportunities.
America will be far greater without Trump in power. And if that idea outrages you, I have no response to that.
---
* Salt Lake City and its close environs are purple--that's as far as I'll go. To think there are any blue spots in the state is, I think, to misread what's actually going on here.
** If your comments to this post are to include anything about "both parties do it" or "the Democrats are just as bad", then you're part of the problem. The Democrats sure are a crappy party--parties are, in and of themselves, a crappy idea--and they absolutely were founded on racist ideals (Andrew Jackson, anyone?). This point is irrelevant for two reasons: 1) this post is about the GOP; I do not subscribe to the idea that "fair and balanced" is needed in every discussion; and 2) going after the "other side" in this is a diversionary tactic that the hard truths of our political landscape is attempting to hide behind. This is my forthright feelings about the toxicity inside the GOP, and what the Democrats do with their campaigns, candidates, and power is out of the scope of this post.
*** I often hear about how the country was founded as a republic, not a democracy. That's like saying that a car runs with an engine, not gasoline. While the first part is true (a car can only run when it has an engine), how the engine is powered is absolutely a part of the equation. Despite a lot of inference and crystal-balling about the Founders' opinions on religion, one of the most revolutionary things about that old Enlightenment document of the Constitution is that it invokes power, not from God or the Church (as had been the European ideal since forever), but from "the people". Democracy is woven into the fabric of our Constitution: it is the fuel of our engine. Enfranchisement wouldn't be an issue otherwise. As a result, the voice of "the people" will have to be a majority rules indicator. That's what democracy is--the people make their voices heard. The republican part of the Constitution is that the people's voice can't overrule the rulebook (see, for example, Proposition 8 and the subsequent legal battles). If everyone in, say, Idaho voted to reinstate slavery, the Constitution (amended, of course) would put the brakes on that idea, preventing the state--and the people--from following through. The point of this is that the fear of the tyranny of the majority (or minority), while understandable, is not sufficient claim to preserve systemic oppression. There's a worry about the tail wagging the dog, and I understand that. But I don't think that expanding rights to underrepresented and disadvantaged swaths of our country is an indication of that. LGBTQ+ and non-White people of every descent are in perpetual positions of exploitation and discrimination. Desiring greater justice in the country for people of every type is not about being under the "tyranny of the minority"; it's about being a good person.
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