In 2008, I moved from Chicago to New York at the age of twenty-four, to pursue my dream of being an actor. A few months after settling in, Barack Obama was elected as the 44th president of the United States. The streets of Brooklyn, my new home, were filled with people dancing, playing music, cheering and celebrating in every way possible. It was a triumph, and for the next eight years, I was proud to be an American.
By 2016, I had settled into a career as a primary school teacher. My students were six, seven and eight years old, and only knew one president. Their president was smart, articulate, classy, kind, respectable and respected. That year, my two least favorite Constitutional Amendments were: the Second – which had become so abused in my country that, as a teacher, I was participating in more active-shooter drills than fire drills – and the Twenty-Second, which limits the U.S. Presidency to two terms.
It was a dark, dark day in Brooklyn, on the morning of November 9th, 2016.
There was no celebration.
Yes, as an adult, I understand the complexities of this event, including but not limited to:
- The archaic and confounding American electoral system, which overmines what would otherwise appear to be a democracy determined by popular vote.
- How our polarizing national media unfairly influenced the public’s perception of a qualified candidate.
- Institutional misogyny and the irresponsible glamorizing of aggression tactics.
- The oppositional, “vote against the other” dynamic that has come to define American election politics.
With all of this in mind, I will also share that as a primary school teacher, responsible for helping young children understand their world, it was very difficult to explain why the strong, stable, well-spoken woman with an extensive background in government lost the election to a scowling bully who uses bad words and says mean things all the time.
My family moved to Denmark in 2019, and while I miss my friends and family (and diverse culinary options), I am beyond grateful to be living, again, in a country with civilized leadership. The ability to engage in political discourse is something I consider a right, a privilege, and even a highlight of aging into mature adulthood. It is one of the many things that makes being human an endlessly rewarding experience. I am in favor of political discussions, which involve the potential for respectful disagreements under appropriate circumstances.
Since moving to Denmark, as an American, I have found myself in many such circumstances, with thoughtful, kind, classy, smart, articulate Danes and other non-Americans – at dinner parties, social gatherings, community meetups, and casual encounters. Once my nationality is revealed, it is not uncommon for me to become involved in a conversation that begins, with a polite hesitation, “I don’t mean to get political, but…,” which is usually followed by some variation of “he can’t be serious, can he?” Occasionally, the charming feature of forthcomingness, known to be characteristically Danish comes out, in the form of a statement such as: “It’s crazy! It almost seems like a joke.”
Let me be clear, as an American: I agree. It is crazy. I wish it was a joke. It seems like it should be. Also, while I appreciate the consideration for personal boundaries around the possibility of entering a fragile political conversation, the truth we are dealing with is that Donald Trump is not a politician. So you can rest assured: sharing a heavy sigh of disbelief and despair about one maniac’s public persona, and the confusion around what is actually happening as a result of his mind-bogglingly unchecked power, is not a political conversation.
Personally, my beliefs lean towards Democratic within America’s deeply flawed two-party system. However, I also have respect for any and all of my friends and family members who share some of the traditional Republican party’s values and opinions. Isn’t that, like, the whole purpose of having multiple parties? Multiple perspectives are important! We can all agree on that, and if you don’t agree, you just proved it’s true.
The Republican National Committee’s official website is down, but most states have their own republican party website, which describes their ideology. Here, as one example, is from the “History” page on the Alabama Republican Party’s website:
“Abolition. Free speech. Women’s suffrage. These were all causes the Republican Party adopted early on. So, too, were reducing the size of government, streamlining bureaucracy, and returning power to individual states. With a core belief in the primacy of individuals, the Republican Party, since its inception, has been at the forefront of the fight for individuals’ rights in opposition to a large, intrusive government.”
What is happening in America right now is neither Democratic nor Republican. The current administration contradicts its own party’s values, along with decency, and logic. Our leader, instead of leading, is projecting his hypocrisy into an international crisis.
Occasionally, I will find myself feeling hints of embarrassment about identifying as an American. Recently, I defensively apologized while introducing myself to a group of internationals: “My name is John. I’m from the U.S. Sorry!” They all laughed, which was a sobering reassurance. The rest of the world understands that the fear-inducing antics of one Narcissist-in-Chief are not representative of all – or perhaps even any – Americans.
This is not a conversation about the subtle, intricate, valid and valuable differences between the beliefs of how society should be handled on a national level. This is a conversation about basic humanity. It is becoming a philosophical conversation, prompting dialogue drifting more towards existentialism than economics. “What are the limits of an individual’s power? Why is this happening? Why hasn’t it stopped? What could possibly be worse?”
More to the point, perhaps, is a question I have been trying, and trying, and trying, to pose, to no avail: “What if we just stop giving him attention? What if we stop flooding our headlines with his name, and stop reporting every one of his absurd, foolish, must-be-a-joke statements, insults, threats, blatant lies, and moral abominations?”
I am an American, and for eight years, from 2008-2016, I was proud of my leader. At that time, I was happy and willing to participate in a respectful conversation, with or without agreement, about government fundings, laws and justice, and educational policy. Now, I live in Denmark, and, again, I am proud of my leader. She is smart, articulate, strong-willed, stable, and respectable. Perhaps most importantly: if you disagree with me on that, then at least we can have a political conversation about it.
