American Politics: Whatever Happened to Class?

This cover is fake

There’s a song in the musical Chicago called “Class.” It’s a comedic lamentation performed in earnest by the characters, Velma Kelly and Matron “Mama” Morton bemoaning society’s loss of decorum and manners.

 

The fact that Velma is in jail for murder and “Mama” is the warden who will scratch your back if you scratch hers makes the song even funnier.

 

These are not paragons of society. They are a murderer and an extortionist, respectively. Yet there they are singing:

“Whatever happened to fair dealing? And pure ethics? And nice manners?”

This musical’s story was originally set in the 1920s, but truly, the action could be any time. The lack of respect for others and the deplorable behavior that these two characters are lamenting has never been timelier than right now.

 

In the current political reality show that is American politics—more tragedy than comedy—there is no class on the side of the Republican Party. Most of its members have crossed over to the dark side and should consider renaming themselves the MAGA Party. But I’ll just call them MAGA Republicans for now.

 

The de facto leader of the MAGA Republicans, those Fox-News-watching conservatives, most of whom also consider themselves Christians, is the wolf in sheep’s clothing that my Sunday School teacher warned me about.

He masquerades as a conservative man, a Christian, a savior trying to Make America Great Again, all while stoking the fears associated with Other and Different. He’s a dangerous man. Willing, without compunction, to lie to his followers in order to incite the desired reactions: fear and anger. He’s a revenge-threatening bully; a narcissist with hateful tendencies as ugly as his combover. And the speeches he gives at his rallies and press conferences often make no sense. There isn’t enough money in the Federal Reserve to buy this man class.

 

He has no desire to be courteous. His followers wouldn’t stand for it anyway. He, and they, only want him to be as nasty and politically incorrect as he can. The MAGA Republicans thrive on meals of mockery and disrespect, leaving the table satiated with ignorance. And blissfully happy. They have no desire to seek the truth, believing without hesitation—unquestioning—just as I was taught to do in the pews of the Baptist churches of my childhood. And if they happen to discover the lies aren’t true, they don't apologize for sharing and promoting the lies. Nor do they share the actual truth.

I recently watched John McCain’s concession speech from when he lost the presidential election to Barack Obama in 2008. The man held up his hands to stop those who supported him, disappointed by his loss, from booing as he began the speech. He didn’t speak negatively against Barack Obama. He commended him for “his ability and perseverance.” And admired him for “inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans.” He acknowledged the two had differences and that those differences would probably remain, but he pledged his support for the newly elected president and encouraged his supporters to do so as well.

 

A speech that started with booing ended in applause. It was a time when it seems Republicans and Democrats could negotiate their differences, find a compromise, shake hands across the aisle, work together.

That was 2008.

Now we have a fool that purposefully mispronounces the name of the woman running against him for the office of president. And his MAGA followers eat it up.

Sixteen years later, we are in the shadow of a would-be dictator. In two Obama terms and their subsequent years, how did we get here? In sixteen years, how did decades of political civility turn into January 6, 2020? How did it turn into the least productive Congress in our country’s history? How did it turn into name calling and demands for loyalty? How did it turn into such a deeply divided Us vs Them?

A friend once told me that Newt Gingrich, as Speaker of the House, was the man who used his power to inject divisive division into the Party line, cracking it by telling his Republican colleagues to treat their Democrat co-workers as the enemy and to have no dealings with them outside of work. Did it start there in the late 90s? How was that good for the country? For the People?

Back to the grifting shyster who has risen to power as the leader of the MAGA Republicans. He likes to hurl accusatory barbs at the other side, accusing them—us—of doing the very things that he and his followers are actually doing. He demonizes Democrats, Black people, Hispanic people, science, women, democracy, facts, truth. And let’s not forget how he mocked the disabled and veterans. He is concerned with his own power, not with the good of the country.

As for the elected officials who have brown on their faces because their heads are so far up his ass—Marjorie Taylor-Greene, Lauren Boebert, Matt Gaetz, Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, Tom Cotton, Josh Hawley, Lindsey Graham (to name a few)—they worship at his feet, forgetting all about the first of the Ten Commandments in the Holy Bible, a book they claim to revere above all others: “Thou Shalt Have No Other Gods Before Me.”

I don’t get it. I’m dumbfounded that we are here. I shake my head in disbelief. I continue to wonder how this happened. I no longer trust an American populace that could and would elect Donald Trump. Or any of the above mentioned senators and representatives. They are fucking with too many lives. For what? So women can’t get abortions? So gay people can’t get married? So trans people can’t get the medical care they need or use the goddamn bathroom that goes with their gender identity?

(Side note: No one is coming for their churches. Their right to pray. Or their Bible. Although in the 2024, maybe the Bible should be the top challenged book to be banned instead of Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe. But I digress.)

I leave the last word to “Mama”:

“Jesus Christ, ain’t there no decency left?”

I'm Biden My Time

I'm sure most of us have heard the saying, "Patience is a virtue." Boy do I find that statement hard to implement. Patience is hard! I could give many examples where needing to have patience nearly drove me crazy, but I don't think any would be as timely as the Mud Puddle of Patience we're all treading water in called the American Election and the Cult of Donald Trump.

I woke this morning with the old Gershwin tune "Bidin' My Time" running through the suburbs of my dreamscape. 

I'm bidin' my time,
Cause that's the kinda guy I'm
While other folks grow dizzy
I keep busy
Bidin' my time 

Firstly, it struck me as funny because of "Bidin'" and Biden. Then is struck me as apropos because of..."Bidin'" and Biden.

I'm one of the "other folks" in this scenario unfortunately. I have grown dizzy with frustration and fear as I've watched, since Tuesday evening, American democracy continue to be undermined by a man who has done nothing but sow seeds of doubt and distrust for longer than his four years in the office of the presidency. He's a snake oil salesman from whom many have purchased his bottles of piss.

My hands were shaking last night at dinner. Not even the lovely glass of French Chardonnay could help. They outwardly mirrored what was happening on the inside--2016 PTSD showing its ass. I was tied up in a knot that seems to only release when I'm asleep. Thankfully, I can sleep. Yesterday I found myself sleeping a lot. It's probably a sign of mild depression brought on by mental and emotional exhaustion due to the state of our country in this time of chaos and crisis. I don't like the idea of being depressed, but I am grateful for the sleep.

Bidin' time is a lazy kind of patience that seems to only exist in a world when the stakes aren't this high, but bide it I must--we must. I wish I could take a pill for patience. I have struggled with finding it for years. I even have the Chinese character for patience tattooed on my left forearm. Beyond reminding me that I needed more patience in my life, I used to joke that I would rub it as a reminder as if to release some magical power imbued within its ink to calm thereby strengthening my ability to deal with stress and anxiety.

That tattoo should be rubbed off by now.

I will admit that Joe Biden was not my first choice for the democratic nominee for President of the United States. Bernie Sanders was not my choice either. But I struggled. After eight years of my country's first Black President, Barack Obama, I feared that we, collectively, would not elect a woman. My fears were proved right when Hillary Clinton, even after winning the popular vote, failed to secure the electorate and become the first female president of the United States of America. 

With all of that in mind I looked at the viable candidates and saw: two old white men, a white woman, a Black woman, and a gay man. Jesus Christ! I couldn't help but wonder who the people of the United States would support and rally behind. I mean, this is a country that elected Donald Trump as its "leader." I didn't trust my own judgment, and I certainly didn't put my trust in the American people. As far as I'm concerned, many of my fellow countrymen let the country down when they cast their vote for Donald Trump.

After the sun had set on Tuesday, November 3, 2020, my best friend and I tuned into CBS News to watch the election results. The excitement and hope for the possibilities began to darken just like the night sky as we began to see the map of our country once again awash with red. There are those guaranteed states that one knows will be red. They always are. But after fours years of bullying, mockery, lying...I couldn't believe the overwhelming support for this candidate. That piss must go down so smooth. I wonder if it's better as a shot, sipped, or mixed with one's favorite juice or soda? 

On Wednesday night, November 4, 2020, peaceful marchers in Massachusetts marched with signs reading, "Count Every Vote," while Trump supporters gathered outside an election center in Detroit, Michigan, chanting, "Stop the count!" and "Stop the vote!" Why doesn't EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN want every vote counted? P.S. the vote had stopped. Unfortunately, Donald Trump used the words "stop the vote" (I heard it with my own ears) and it seems there are those who can't quite understand the difference between "vote" and "count." 

This is chaos. And patience is not easy in the midst of chaos. How patient can one be if he happens to find himself stuck outside in the middle of a hurricane, unable to find cover, unable to move, digging deep to find the strength to wait it out. Patience is a virtue indeed.

Joe Biden has called for unity and for putting the nasty rhetoric of the campaign aside. Donald Trump, on the other hand, has filed lawsuits and continues to push his false claim of fraud. 

THIS. IS. CHAOS! 

My anxiety is through the roof. No amount of deep breathing or long soaks in a bubble bath seem to alleviate it for long.

How did we get here? How did the least Christ-like of presidents wrap the Conservative "Christian" Right around his finger? 

President Barack Obama sang "Amazing Grace" after delivering the eulogy for Rev. Clementa Pickney, in Charleston, South Carolina in 2015. Rev. Pickney was the victim of the bullets let loose upon those attending a Bible study at Mother Emanuel church in what was deemed a racially motivated attack by Dylann Roof. I saw our former president deliver his eulogy and sing the old hymn that comforts so many. It was powerful and emotional. It showed empathy and sympathy. It connected with dormant memories from my youth when I was a follower if the Baptist faith in Kentucky--a dogma that I no longer practice and a faith in which I can no longer believe.

Donald Trump posed on June 1, 2020, for a picture in front of Ashburton House, the parish house of St. John's Church on Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C. after it had been damaged by fire during the previous night's protests over the death of George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The photo of this man holding a Bible left me numb. Even though I no longer read it, do not give it any credence, and do not believe it should have any influence over the laws of our country, I still somehow approach it with reverence. (That's a little fucked up, I realize.) So, to see this man who bullies, mocks, and lies holding up a copy of that book in an effort to appeal to his supporters without doing anything to assuage the racial tension happening steps away continues to leave me cold. 

We are living in the Divided States of America where I believe Donald Trump has conned his way into the hearts of too many. I can't help but be reminded of Matthew 7:15, a verse in that same Bible that I know longer read, which states: "Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves." This is Donald Trump: selfish, fake, destructive. He has used his platform--twitter, MAGA rallies--to empower those who feel he sees them, identifies with them, hears them, supports them. He has opened the door for their deeply held religious beliefs to explode into the room dressed as the hate that it truly is.

To say that discord will remain in the United States of America regardless of the outcome of the election is unnecessary. We know there will be. And with social media providing us with information both true and false, our phone and computer screens will continue to deepen out relationships with like-minded people. To say there will be an uprising in the streets if all of the votes are not counted is almost certain. Don't you feel it? And how Civil might this War be?

(P.S. our taxes count as filed on time as long as they are postmarked by April 15. Why should our votes be any different? If they are postmarked by November 3, during a pandemic when many don't want to vote in person, why shouldn't they count? It seems obvious.)

It is time to remove the cancer. It is time for a leader that isn't going to fire you if you disagree with him. It is time to heal. It is time to sing "Amazing Grace" and mean it. It is time for empathy in the face of so much social and civil unrest. It is time to trust Climate Science and medical professionals. Isn't it time for America to be better than it is instead of treading on the false pretense of Making it Great Again? When is Again? What about now!   

I don't know what's going to happen with the 2020 election results, but I'm holding out hope. Patience is hard, but I'm Biden my time. As Jimmy Kimmel tweeted on election night: "This is like being awake during your own surgery." Ouch. But true. This is painful, but I'm optimistic that healing will begin once the tumor is removed.

The Cap and the Silence

I was confronted with a symbol of hate, deception, and racism last week on a vacation trip to Kentucky. A red "Make America Great Again" cap practically throbbed like a caution light on the head of a member of my family as he walked into the room where I was sitting. To say that I was shocked and unprepared is an understatement. My heart began to pound. The space around it became weighted with anxiety.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to react. I felt the flush of heat burn my cheeks. I felt sick. 

The person wearing the cap doesn’t know what it represents to me. I honestly believe there was no malice intended. Yet I couldn't help but wonder why those with more knowledge weren't more attentive to their surroundings. Then again, I was the outsider, the guest. I was in their environment.

As I sat on the sofa at my parents’ house I was very aware that I was wearing mascara that day. I was also aware that I fully expected acceptance from everyone around me while wearing it. Mascara is not a MAGA cap, but it is a potential button pusher when worn by a male in a family of gun-toting, sports-playing, Southern Baptists. No one said a word about my mascara the entire trip. Just like no one mentions the bracelet with rainbow beads that I sometimes wear while there. Is it avoidance or acceptance? Rainbows and MAGA caps send completely different messages, but I digress.

Additionally, while relaxing inside this household of Trump supporters, I was never hesitant to discuss Michelle Obama’s memoir, Becoming, which I was openly reading at the time.

I tried to put myself on the other side of the Party line, trying to provide the acceptance that I was expecting. How could I expect it yet not give it in return? Aren’t we all human beings, co-mingling with differing opinions? Yet providing that acceptance was hard for me. I sat in silence trying to ignore the rage that was bubbling inside me, just below the surface. 

I was hurt. That cap (and those words) will go down in history as the symbol of a very dark and divided time in America. I will never be able to see it with eyes that don't register negativity.

I may be a Kentuckian by birth, but I am a New Yorker by choice. I knew at an early age that I had to get out of Kentucky. I had to get out of my small town. I knew there was a bigger world out there where I could find the freedom to be myself. Where I could find the freedom to question. I knew there were bigger ideals than what I was taught in Sunday service. 

I am gay, and feminine. I am a believer that Freedom of Religion also means Freedom from. In Trump’s Divided States of America, I am a liberal. I am for progress. I am for gay rights. I am for women’s rights. I am for trans rights. I am for human rights. I am for TRUTH! I believe America was already great.

That cap makes me angry. What it stands for makes me angry. I can’t believe I have family members who believe the huckster who pushes its message. I love the wearer so much, but with caution was the only way I felt I could proceed. I've never been one to rush head-on into conflict. In order to keep the peace, I kept my mouth shut. For this, I am disgusted with myself as much as I am with the cap.

As I sat writing about how this incident affected me, I couldn't help but ponder: does writing about it, rather than confronting it in the moment, make me cowardly or intelligent?

I was the lone blue in a room full of red.  

Freedom, Bravery, and Boycotting in America

San Fransisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick kneeled during the national anthem. We all know this. What seems to be missing for many is the why. He kneeled, instead of standing, in response to police brutality in America. Specifically against people of color. It was a form of non-violent protest that continues to divide and incite outrage.

"I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color. To me, this is bigger than football and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder."

These are the words of Colin Kaepernick. This is the why.

Now I have my own why: Why is anyone offended?

This was never about disrespecting the national anthem. (It's merely a song for Christ's sake.) It was never about disrespecting the country. It was never about disrespecting the military. It was always about protesting the abuse of fellow Americans during a song that is supposed to represent America and elicit pride in the hearts of those of us living in the "land of the free and the home of the brave!"

So again I ask: Why is anyone offended?

The unfortunate election of Donald Trump to our nation's highest office, and his childish, petty, bullying rhetoric (the campaign, tweets, rallies), has clouded the judgement of so many in this country. He has shined a light on the hate, that up until his campaign started, had remained at the edge of the shadows. Yes, I know that bigotry and hate surfaced on a daily basis in this country. But nothing like what we are now seeing. Donald Trump does nothing but incite his base with a white power entitlement that has, I believe, legitimized their racism, bigotry, and hate. At least in their own minds.

I saw an image on Twitter last night of country singer John Rich's sound man holding the Nike swoosh symbol from the top of a pair of socks. This sound man had cut them off. This is because Nike has made Colin Kaepernick the face of their 30th anniversary "Just Do It" campaign. This sound man is not the only person offended and angry at Nike. I've seen videos of people burning their Nike sneakers and cutting the swoosh off of their shorts. It's amazing. The #NikeBoycott is happening.

I'm taken right back to 2003, when Dixie Chicks lead vocalist, Natalie Maines told a British audience: "We don't want this war, this violence, and we're ashamed that the President of the United States (George W. Bush) is from Texas" 

The backlash was astonishing. Radio stations stopped playing their music. Images of people burning Dixie Chicks merchandise and rolling over Dixie Chicks CDs with a tractor emerged. 

And here we are again. 

Was the war in Iraq necessary? There were no weapons of mass destruction. Was the Dixies Chicks' statement really that far off the mark?

Do we really need to be shooting (often killing) men of color who are unarmed, with police officers found not guilty for the shooting? Is Colin Kaepernick's kneeling really that offensive? Or are people angry that their own prejudice is being served to them on one knee?

A friend of mine talks often about the swinging pendulum between Conservative and Liberal. How it swings one way and then back the other. He often talks about finding a middle ground. We don't seem to be able to find that middle ground these days. Partly because we don't talk to each other. We talk AT each other. We argue with and call each other names. Thanks to social media this unfortunately is very easy. I myself am guilty of it. 

We live in America...the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

We are free to kneel. We are free to stand. We are free to boycott. We are free to have our opinions. We are free to worship. We are free to NOT worship. We are free to love who with love and have sex with that person. We are free to vote for change.

But are we brave? There are many brave Americans doing brave things every day. In respect to this piece, I believe Colin Kaepernick to be a very brave individual. He stood up, or this case, kneeled, for what he believed in. He shined a light on injustice. Those that would try and diminish that light by destroying their Nike merchandise will never stop the movement he started.

The Dixie Chicks may not be recording currently but let's not forget that they recorded another album (Taking the Long Way) after that backlash that debuted at #1, sold 2.5 million copies in the U.S. alone, and won five Grammy Awards including Album, Record, and Song of the Year.

I think Nike will be okay. So boycott away. The kneeling will continue. Trump is "only for now." (Thank you Avenue Q.) Progress is not a bad thing. Racism and bigotry will never go away. And the divide between Conservative and Liberal may widen even more before that middle ground is met. 

Americans are, however, still Free to be as Brave as we want to be.  

Gunning For A Compromise: Questioning Guns & Society

I grew up in a house with guns in it. My dad is a hunter.

I remember as an adolescent: shooting a rifle, a shotgun, and a pistol at a stationary target, practicing to be the hunter I was never going to be. I remember the kick of the shotgun, the recoil of the pistol. I remember the fear. I remember the dislike. Even lying on the floor completely taken apart post cleaning, guns were not my thing.

I grew up in a small southern town in Kentucky. I remember the back windows of many a pickup truck parked in my high school parking lot covered by racks, hung with guns. It wasn’t odd. It was an everyday part of life. However, it never crossed my mind that anyone would take the rifle or shotgun out of their truck and enter the school with it, intent on killing any of us.

So here I am, nearly 30 years since I graduated and left that parking lot for the last time as a student, and school is no longer a safe place. Sure, there was always the chance a fight might break out. And bullying was an issue even then. Hell, getting your car keyed was even a possibility. Been there, lived that...dad paid the repair bill. But those situations are completely different than sitting in a classroom studying algebra one minute and dodging bullets the next. 

I have family members who work in the school system. I have family members who are currently students. Some of them live close enough to the recent Marshall County, Kentucky, school shooting that anxiety must be palpable. I doubt they are even aware of the anxiety it gives me from afar.

I’ve seen many discussions via Facebook and Twitter since the most recent mass shooting occurred in Parkland, Florida—the most recent in a long American line. One of the ideas bandied about is that stricter gun laws won’t work to stop the gun violence; that it is society that needs to change.

Okay, so let’s take all the onus off stricter gun laws and place it all on society. The question still remains: shouldn’t we try something? 

I keep thinking about how as a child my parents tried different things to get me to behave in a certain way e.g. stop throwing tantrums, stop talking back, clean my room, stop cheating at the board game Sorry!, etc. They took Sorry! away from me for a week once, and I was grounded FROM my bedroom due to its lack of tidiness on more than one occasion. I learned my lessons. But not without my parents' penalties instigating the change.

I realize the above situations are trivial compared to gun violence but they are examples of how we can change, how we can adapt to new or different situations. (We do all take our shoes off at the airport before going through security now.) Society is not going to change on its own. If all the previous mass shootings haven’t made us change then we have to try something else.

In order to change the way society behaves (for this piece: in respect to guns) maybe what’s causing the behavior needs to be modified. So how do we modify it? That question should kick off a conversation. Now is the time to talk about it.

I find myself more than ever conversing with people on the subject, always clear to state that I don’t know what the answer is but that something has to change. I hate the conflict that comes with our differing opinions, but I have found that I’m trying to listen and see their point of view, hoping in return that they are listening and seeing mine.

I keep seeing the argument that bans have worked in virtually every country that has chosen to ban guns. Okay. But here in America, we will be up against major push back from Second Amendment devotees and card-carrying supporters of the NRA before the word “ban” can even be heard by people sitting in the back row of a town hall meeting. But what if...? What if there was a ban on automatic and semi-automatic weapons that prevented civilians from purchasing them? Why would that be such a horrible idea? Of course, that question opens up the floor for debate about those already purchased AR-15’s (or any other gun like it), and plants my foot firmly in the sticky goo of criticism by those who don’t want to buy an AR-15 but want the right nonetheless. I don’t have an answer, just a lack of understanding as to why any civilian needs one.  

Reaching back into my southern roots as a former churchgoer I recall that a pastor is supposed to help his congregation stay on the straight and narrow, right? There are leaders and there are followers but there are followers who need to find their courage to lead. Our country is much divided right now—on more than this one issue. I don’t know what the compromise is. But there has to be one. Maybe honest conversations like the ones I’ve been having, where we are disagreeing, but not arguing, merely speaking civilly to each other, sharing our thoughts, ideas, and points-of-view, are the way to start. You may think I’m being naive and that’s your prerogative. But sometimes the simple answer is the right answer.

This situation is not black and white. It is the grayest of grays. The process will not be simple. But we have to be willing to meet each other halfway and listen to each other without the current, all too typically immediate deterioration into name-calling and finger-pointing. (Guilty.) It has to start with a conversation and with listening.

I still don’t like guns. They make me uncomfortable. But I don’t think I have the right to tell someone else whether or not guns should play a part in their life. I do believe, however, that semi-automatic and automatic weapons do not belong in mainstream society. Let’s talk about it.

A Repeal Toward Silence

There was a time when I didn't consider myself a political activist. I was content to let others do the work, to let others fight the fight. During President Barack Obama's administration that changed. The game changer for me was the prospect of marriage equality.

I've never been one to want to get married. (Well, not since I was a teenager and thought I might marry a woman at age 17, but I digress). Maybe that's because I haven't had a significant other in my life that I love so much that that down-on-one-knee scenario would be the next logical step and a resounding, tearful yes the only answer. If you know me you know I would cry. I'm a soft-hearted Sally.

Regardless of my personal relationship status, I have friends who wanted/want to get married. Why shouldn't they get married? Just because some words in an ancient text says it's not the way? Please! Evolve already. Many words in that ancient text no longer hold any meaning. And yet, same sex couples continue to be judged against the ideals of some man from a time long ago (and translated through the centuries by yet more men) that continue to keep the hearts of believers so hardened that they can't open them. And the heels of all of their shoes must me in ruin for all the digging in.

That was 2015 and this is 2017.

It's an era of frustration, anger, anxiety. There is hate on both sides. And name-calling. There is no compromise. Social media doesn't help. It doesn't really bring us closer together. And it's certainly not social. No, social media allows us to yell and scream at each other, emboldened with the courage that only the safety of a keyboard can provide. 

It's an era when "fake news" is screamed in front of the camera anytime the person screaming doesn't agree or accept what's being reported. There are bans, witch hunts, repeals, stalls, rush jobs, refusals, threats. There is finger-pointing, bullying, harassment. There is no end in sight. The "leader" of the free world is guilty of leading the charge for all of the above mentioned verbs. Oh look, he is a leader.

It's an era of marches and pussy hats and the raising of voices.

This brings me to the vote on Thursday, December 14, 2017, to repeal the Obama era rules to keep the internet free for the American people--net neutrality.

This was one more slap in the face to those of us who raised our voices in protest--We The People. The ears that needed to hear the voices refused to hear. And why is that? From my view, standing outside looking in, it appears that the undoing of legislation put into place during the Obama era is at the top of the To Do list for the current administration. The man that lost the popular vote but won the electorate, hates his predecessor so much that it appears all he really wants to do is undo everything the man did, effectively taking us backwards. 

As a supporter of Barack Obama I will admit that it's hard for me to understand the point of view of people who hated/hate him as much as I hate his replacement. But that's not what this is about. 

Yesterday's vote to repeal net neutrality has me concerned for our Freedom of Speech and Freedom of the Press. Regardless of who you support, you should be concerned about the repeal. 

While initially appointed to the FCC by Barack Obama, it was Donald Trump who appointed Ajit Pai, chairman. And it was Mr. Pai who cast the deciding vote to begin dismantling the net neutrality rules that keep the internet free and open. He has now opened the door for internet service providers (ISP's) to slow down content (better finish the second season of The Crown on Netlix before it starts stopping to buffer) or even block content with which they don't agree.

This is where it gets personal for me. I am a writer. I have spoken out many times against the actions of Donald Trump, the administrator of the Corporate Greed Administration. You have to open your eyes. Don't you think that the man who made "fake news" one of the go to phrases of the year has just laid the foundation for a different kind of wall? The one that blocks the legitimate news outlets that report the truth that he doesn't like? It's a What If scenario but can't you see the "what if" getting clearer all around you? Maybe you think, This is America. That won't happen here. Do you really want to find out?

If ISP's have the ability to block competitive content what makes any of us think that news websites that keep us informed and point out the truth aren't going to be added to the "blocked" list?

We have to fight. We can't be silent. We have to raise our voices. We have to make ourselves be heard. If we don't, the truth could be repealed and that silence will be deafening.

Struggling To Transcend The Darkness

Yesterday was a dark day for me. Nothing in particular happened to cause the darkness. Unless, of course, you count the state of the country.

I woke up. I made coffee. I drank the coffee. I read Vogue. I was in a pretty good mood. I even decided to be bold with my eye make up: dark purpled-gray on the lids and a smudgy stroke underneath.

Without even knowing why, I just felt dark. I wore mostly black. And with the salt of white in my beard and the dark eyes, I had a vision of what it would all look like and it came together in reality with as much perfection.

The darkness of the outward soon seeped inward.

I asked a question and participated in a discussion about politics: Mr. Trump's Executive Orders, Senate confirmation hearings, Democrats stalling just to be vindictive or because they had legitimate concerns.

During the discussion I listened but couldn't help but feel like the kid sitting in Geometry class, not understanding, finally raising his hand to ask a question, and hearing the snickers of the students around him making him feel even more stupid because now they know he doesn't understand.

I know that these are my own self-imposed feelings of ignorance. I also know that my dread of each new move by the Trump Administration on the chess board that is our country's political game is real. I know that I shouldn't live in fear. But knowing and doing are two different things. I'm trying to understand. I'm trying to have faith. Both are equally difficult for me to do.

I couldn't shake the feelings of dimness that took hold of me yesterday. I tried to engage in other conversations. I felt the people around me working overtime to lift the mood in the room. I couldn't do it for myself, and they couldn't do it for me. I had spiraled down the rabbit hole where even Alice kept her distance. Too much darkness. I was alone. I finally realized the best course of action for me, and everyone around me, was to remove myself from the situation.

Later in the evening I took to Twitter. Searching what was trending led to a Trump related hashtag. I knew I shouldn't click on it but click on it I did. Three tweets in I saw the word "libtard." That's the word that I've noticed more and more from the Right since the election results knocked the air out the Left. It's a hateful word; demeaning.

I wasn't sure it was possible, but the darkness got even darker. I forced myself to close my Twitter app and then forced myself to delete the app from my iPhone.

We're living in a divided time right now. I am honestly trying to understand how the other side feels. I saw the progress that happened during the Obama Administration. However, I'm trying to understand how what I considered progress was not considered progress by Obama haters. It's so difficult to see another's point of view when that point of view at no point has even a hint of aligning with yours.

I can't understand why my being protected, as a gay man, causes so many such discomfort. I don't remember what I felt more of when the Supreme Court ruled on Equality in 2015. Was it relief? (I certainly was relieved. And shocked. I wept.) Or was superiority that people in a country so superiorly Christian would finally have to accept the Separation of Church and State? (I felt that too.) Of course, that ruling inevitably led to Religious Freedom bills being submitted over many parts of the country.

Fear and hate continue to be carefully taught. And they're thriving. They're thriving equally among the Right and the Left: two sides within the same country so divided that we can't even be civil with one another.

I continue to fight my fear and to try not to hate people who might hate me for the way I was born.

I know that I'm supported by some but don't feel that I'm supported by those from whom I'm longing to be held.

As I made my exit yesterday with Charlie Brown's rain cloud firmly secured above my head I said, "The next time I see you I'll try to be more pink."

Today I am trying to combat the darkness with pink. It's light-hearted. It's revitalizing. It lifts my spirits.

I can't watch the news. I can't read my Twitter feed. I don't even want to look at the headlines on Huffington Post. If I do any of those things the brightness will begin to drain from the pink. And if that happens all I'll be left with is the dingy brown of a watery puddle. And that's just one step away from the darkness, over which I'm struggling to transcend.

Even in Trump’s America, I Will Shine My Light

As I sit in my apartment, trying to drink a cup a coffee on the morning after, I can’t help but feel completely alone. I’m trying to assuage the dread and fear that is knotting my stomach. I’m trying to decide whether crying or not crying is best. I’m angry. I’m devastated. I’m scared. 

I have connected with friends this morning who share in my grief at what happened yesterday in America. I have reached out to a few family members without knowing what the response will be or even if I’ll get one. I have read through many tweets and articles that have already been tweeted and published this morning regarding the outcome of yesterday’s actions. Texts and tweets are a from of connection but in reality, I’m alone in my sadness.

I never knew how much racism, sexism, misogyny, and homophobia existed in my country: the land of the free; the home of the brave. (I’m no fool. I knew it existed just not to this extent.) With the hate-filled words that spewed from his mouth during his entire campaign, Mr. Trump shined the brightest light in the sky, illuminating his existence for all who might feel the same way as he and want to follow him down his dark path of making America great again. (America is already pretty great. Where do we go now?) 

Parallels between Harry Potter’s big bad, Voldemort, and Mr. Trump have already been made Mr. Trump's his Dark Mark shining in the sky brought forth a glut of supporters. His divisive words allowed those who longed for the “good ol’ days” to stand tall, proud, fearlessly in that light and affirm their beliefs because he was saying out loud how they felt. 

As a gay man I have seen so much positive change in our country during President Obama’s two terms. Change that I fear our new president wants to wipe away as quickly as he can. I don’t want to go down the road of #NotMyPresident. But I don’t know how to respect a man who does not respect me and will not have my back.

I’m afraid for my LGBTQ friends (adults and youth alike), my muslim friends, my black friends, my latino friends. Our new conservative leader does not seem to have the best interest of any of us at heart. His own words have proven that during his campaign. On the whiter side, he does have the backing of the KKK. Wait. Stop. Think about that for a second. I saw a tweet this morning by Mikey Walsh that said: 

"Our First Black President will have to greet, and give up the White House & the presidency to a Man endorsed by the KKK. 2016."

Is this America? 

So, what am I to do? What are any of us whom our leaders view as second-class citizens supposed to do? Noah Michelson wrote a fantastic piece at 3am this morning called Dear Queer America: Here Is What We Must Do Now That Trump Will Be President. He tells me to never stop fighting. He tells me to continue to live my life and be me. He tells me to come out again and again. He tells me to be vigilant, to be brave, and to speak. 

The first thing I did was cry. (That answers the question posed in the first paragraph.) Then I tweeted Noah my appreciation and came out again to him. I plan to continue to live my life and show up and be seen. I will continue to love men. I will continue to paint my fingernails and wear high heels with my boy clothes. I will continue to wear eye make up whenever I want to. I will continue to write and explore and be me. I will continue to push back against those who wish I would just go back inside the closet.

I’m terrified of what this upcoming regime change may bring upon this country I call home. But as terrified as I am I don’t want to cower in fear of the Dark Mark hovering above us. The homophobic, racist, sexist, misogynistic citizenry cannot be allowed to make us feel less than. I am an American: a man, a homosexual, an equal.

The sky is gray in New York City today. At first I thought is was the perfect metaphor for the ominous future that is hanging over our country. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe those dark clouds need an even brighter light to illuminate the sky and dissipate the darkness. Maybe a disco playlist will lighten the mood.

I’m still here. I’m still queer. I’m still me. And you’re still you. We have to pull together and not allow this victory to defeat us. We’re Americans, damn it. We’re made of stronger stuff. And to quote the Tony Award winning Best Musical Avenue Q, “Donald Trump is only for now.”

We’ll get through this. We have to. It’s either survive or die and death is not an option. Stay strong. Show up. Be seen. Be yourself. Shine your light.