So, here we are
I did my best to hide from election news yesterday, but modern technology can be both persuasive and insistent. There was good news to be had, for sure - the Democrats took back the House, so yay, we're not going to go full-on fascist. But for me, there was a lot of disappointment, too.
If, as Jim Wallis at Sojourners said, the election was a referendum on white nationalism, then large chunks of the country just told us they're okay with it. The possibility that they simply don't know who Trump is and what he stands for is no longer credible. Not after the campaign run-up we've seen these past few weeks. And yet, the first thing I noticed in the early polling results yesterday was that the Trumpy parts of the country were getting Trumpier. They weren't running away from Trump. They were running toward him.
And the most discouraging thing to me was watching my home state of Indiana leading the charge. As the Midwestern states around it all started swinging back toward blue, or at least purple, Indiana grew redder. On the political map, it now juts up from the deep red South like a fat middle finger aimed at the rest of the country.
I don't understand it. I've never felt so alienated from my homeland, a disconnect so strong that it hurts. It's worse than two years ago, because we've had two years to see exactly who Trump is, and that's only made the alienation stronger. (And yes, I realize Indianapolis is becoming a blue island, like Nashville, Atlanta, Charlotte or Austin. That still leaves the rest of the state.)
Adding to the alienation is the fact that these Trump voters consider themselves Christian, as well as being white and Midwestern. Their Christianity is nothing like mine. Their Christianity isn't even like mine was in my younger days, neither like my Episcopal Choirboy self nor even like the Evangelical I tried to be when I was married. The 2018 American Values Survey revealed that white Evangelical Christians are more afraid of immigrants and refugees, and more frightened by the prospect of a majority-nonwhite America than anyone else. That's not Christianity. That's cult-like tribal behavior.
I struggle with the idea that so much of the divide is racially motivated, though. The people I grew up with and around aren't racist. The people I know back there now aren't racist. Unaware, in many cases, just as I've been much of my life, not realizing the advantages they have or the disadvantages others have. But if that's all it was, why wouldn't they be repulsed by Trump's behavior? Do they just not think it's important enough? Is tribal identity as Republicans more important?
At the beginning of this year, I saw the incredible James Baldwin documentary I Am Not Your Negro, and since then, one scene in particular has kept coming back to me. It's a clip from a Baldwin interview, where at one point he looks directly into the camera and says, "I'm not a n-----. I'm a man. But if you say I'm a n-----, it's because you need it. And you've got to find out why." I don't like the answer I keep coming up with, that white people need a dark-skinned, subhuman "other" because otherwise the socioeconomic order would be intolerable. We can put up with patriarchy, wealth inequality, disenfranchisement, and so on because no matter how bad things get, we can still look over at them and tell ourselves, "Well, at least we're not them." Heaven forbid the idea that we could join forces with them, to make things better and more fair for everyone. Oh no, we can't do that.
Earlier in that same clip, Baldwin says, "I can't be a pessimist, because I'm alive. To be a pessimist means that you've agreed that human life is an academic matter. So I'm forced to be an optimist. I'm forced to believe that we can survive whatever we must survive." And so it is with me now. Yesterday showed us that this national nightmare isn't over. Okay, then it's not over. We go on. We keep trying to find a way through and to make things better, if not for ourselves then for the people coming after us.
It's either that or give up, and giving up is not an option.
If, as Jim Wallis at Sojourners said, the election was a referendum on white nationalism, then large chunks of the country just told us they're okay with it. The possibility that they simply don't know who Trump is and what he stands for is no longer credible. Not after the campaign run-up we've seen these past few weeks. And yet, the first thing I noticed in the early polling results yesterday was that the Trumpy parts of the country were getting Trumpier. They weren't running away from Trump. They were running toward him.
And the most discouraging thing to me was watching my home state of Indiana leading the charge. As the Midwestern states around it all started swinging back toward blue, or at least purple, Indiana grew redder. On the political map, it now juts up from the deep red South like a fat middle finger aimed at the rest of the country.
I don't understand it. I've never felt so alienated from my homeland, a disconnect so strong that it hurts. It's worse than two years ago, because we've had two years to see exactly who Trump is, and that's only made the alienation stronger. (And yes, I realize Indianapolis is becoming a blue island, like Nashville, Atlanta, Charlotte or Austin. That still leaves the rest of the state.)
Adding to the alienation is the fact that these Trump voters consider themselves Christian, as well as being white and Midwestern. Their Christianity is nothing like mine. Their Christianity isn't even like mine was in my younger days, neither like my Episcopal Choirboy self nor even like the Evangelical I tried to be when I was married. The 2018 American Values Survey revealed that white Evangelical Christians are more afraid of immigrants and refugees, and more frightened by the prospect of a majority-nonwhite America than anyone else. That's not Christianity. That's cult-like tribal behavior.
I struggle with the idea that so much of the divide is racially motivated, though. The people I grew up with and around aren't racist. The people I know back there now aren't racist. Unaware, in many cases, just as I've been much of my life, not realizing the advantages they have or the disadvantages others have. But if that's all it was, why wouldn't they be repulsed by Trump's behavior? Do they just not think it's important enough? Is tribal identity as Republicans more important?
At the beginning of this year, I saw the incredible James Baldwin documentary I Am Not Your Negro, and since then, one scene in particular has kept coming back to me. It's a clip from a Baldwin interview, where at one point he looks directly into the camera and says, "I'm not a n-----. I'm a man. But if you say I'm a n-----, it's because you need it. And you've got to find out why." I don't like the answer I keep coming up with, that white people need a dark-skinned, subhuman "other" because otherwise the socioeconomic order would be intolerable. We can put up with patriarchy, wealth inequality, disenfranchisement, and so on because no matter how bad things get, we can still look over at them and tell ourselves, "Well, at least we're not them." Heaven forbid the idea that we could join forces with them, to make things better and more fair for everyone. Oh no, we can't do that.
Earlier in that same clip, Baldwin says, "I can't be a pessimist, because I'm alive. To be a pessimist means that you've agreed that human life is an academic matter. So I'm forced to be an optimist. I'm forced to believe that we can survive whatever we must survive." And so it is with me now. Yesterday showed us that this national nightmare isn't over. Okay, then it's not over. We go on. We keep trying to find a way through and to make things better, if not for ourselves then for the people coming after us.
It's either that or give up, and giving up is not an option.
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