We’re Almost There

We’re less than a work week away from a brand new president. The old one is out, the new one is in and the country we’ve come to know could change.

Will change.

I haven’t exactly hidden the fact that I’m not a fan of Donald Trump, but I also haven’t made much of an effort to express that opinion either. When the election was settled, I purposefully refrained from sharing my…MANY thoughts on here largely because I was nearly tapped out from all of the back and forth I was having with people on FaceBook. There’s little more that could be considered exhausting than arguing with someone on social media, but some people thrive in that sort of environment so hey—you need to stop.

With the inauguration only a few days from now, I felt it a good time to chime in with how genuinely concerned I am with the state our country may find itself in during the years to come. I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that I’m afraid, not necessarily with Trump the person—actually somewhat less with Trump, though still a great deal—but with his cabinet picks, his conflicts of interest, and the blind eye we’ve apparently turned to all of things that reek over the circumstances of his being elected. Trump has always been a vitriolic, cheeto-dust covered pork balloon, but there’s a difference between Trump the person and Trump the president, Trump the politician, Trump: influencer of education, environmental, economic, and health care reform; when he is in a position of power, when he takes the stage and we have to listen because…he’s the POTUS, change occurs—and not for the better.

I get it. We wanted less of the political elite. We didn’t want the people who’d spent the latest number of decades injecting black toxin into our veins to continue having the ability to do so, but the more I watch the personalities, opinions, and expertise of the people emerging from whatever dank dream he thought them up in, I become ever more wanting for the politicians that at the VERY LEAST knew what the hell they were doing.

I don’t think specifics are necessary—read any article about Tom Price’s financial dealings or…well, anything from Betsy DeVos’ confirmation hearing and you’ll get an idea—but it’s still an unsettling time to be an American. And I’m white. I’m straight. I’m a man. I couldn’t imagine how unsettled someone of a minority could be or has been for the past couple of months.

Actually…yes—I could actually.

I have friends of religious, sexual, and racial minority groups. I’ve seen them express their concerns and while the issues I may face may not compare to what they could run into under a Trump presidency, I’m concerned—and in large part for them, though, I don’t understand it. I don’t understand at what point we hated the corruption and political under dealings so much that we would elect the man with ties to the center of it all. I don’t understand who really believed that one of the richest men in the world, that lives in a tower of gold, would care about them and their middle class plights.

I don’t understand. And I’m not alone.

When Trump threw his hat into the ring, we laughed. We joked. We knew it would never happen, but this is our reality now: a joke borne of jokes. And I can pretend that I understand it, that I can get into the mind of someone that landed with him as opposed to any of the other better options available, but I don’t. I won’t. And as the day approaches that Donald J. Trump’s face will grace the pages of past presidents with men like FDR, Kennedy, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, and our current sitting president, Barrack Obama, it becomes a little too much to stomach. We’ll manage, I don’t doubt that, but I worry about what changes will occur over the coming months and coming years to our education system, our healthcare system, and our economy when the people in charge of it all have always, largely, been driven by profit. We’ll manage, I don’t that—but why is this something we’ve settled for?

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