Sunday, December 18, 2016

Facing Trump


The day after the election, my 11-year-old daughter protested with a piece of art on our kitchen table.

“F… Trump” she crafted with grey putty. To the left of this text, she created a stick figure with a grimacing face.

Her mini-sculpture was at once vulgar and modest—dropping an F-bomb but not actually spelling “F-U-C-K.” It strikes me that both the passion and the restraint on her part get at what we need more of as a nation. For it will take ferver as well as forbearance to make America great, to make it stronger together.


My first response to Skyla’s art and to the Trump election overall was more reckless than disciplined.

Caught up in the frustration of the moment, and appreciating Skyla’s creativity, I took a picture of the artwork and posted it on Facebook.

Within a few hours, my father-in-law commented critically on the post. I did a 180 and took it down. 

I realized I didn’t want to encourage Skyla to add to the disrespectful tone of America’s discourse. Or to subject her to unnecessary judgment. I regretted my post as a rash move.

But in retrospect, I think there is something worthy in my impulse to share Skyla’s expression of dissent.

Trump represented nearly the opposite of everything we value and have taught our kids. Respect for women, racial and religious inclusiveness, a love of learning, truthfulness, kindness.

Just his Access Hollywood recording and the many allegations of sexual assault against Trump justified angry feelings on Skyla’s part the morning after election Tuesday. After all, as an 11 year old on the cusp of puberty, she’s exposed to the sexualization of women’s bodies. To the kind of misogyny that Trump has embodied for decades. 

In fact, Skyla’s rock band, Sticky Situation, is working on a song about sexism in the workplace called “22 percent.” In light of research showing that women earn about a fifth of men, the song lyrics include these:

22 percent
22 percent
What the hell is going on?
It’s 22 percent.
How come all the credit goes straight to the boys
I’m sick and tired, so I’m going to make some noise
We girls have big dreams, we want to touch the sky
But when we hit glass ceilings we have to say goodbye
Punch the glass ceilings ‘til they shatter on the floor
Sue is getting hired, so, Bob, there’s the door

In other words, Skyla is attuned to how being female may limit her. And to how Trump seems to represent an America all too willing to stunt her. I’ve been surprised, since the election, to see that Skyla is far from alone. A good friend’s daughter, 12, was so distraught by Trump’s victory that she sobbed uncontrollably the next day. My friend could barely get her to school. Then there were the events in San Francisco and elsewhere, of young women taking to the streets with chants of “Pussy Grab Back.”

Those rallies were the first in my lifetime of street protests in the immediate aftermath of a presidential election. And they signaled to me just how viscerally upsetting Trump’s victory has been to women in particular. It’s not surprising that Skyla would want to lash back at Trump


Even so, her election-response artwork was not as extreme as it might have been. She wrote “F” followed by three dots.

I’m not sure exactly why. Maybe it was out of fear of getting in trouble with her parents. Or because she believes it is wrong to swear at people. Or because she’s uncomfortable with the sexual content contained in the phrase. On the other hand, maybe Skyla gravitated to “F-You” because she knows Trump has claimed for himself the power to violate women sexually. That as a Hollywood celebrity of sorts he has unlimited “access” to women’s bodies.

Skyla knows he shouldn’t have that. And a consolation to me in the wake of the election is that Americans in general seem to share that view. As election night progressed and Trump’s slim leads in the battleground states persisted, I pored over exit polls to try to understand why. I was both puzzled and relieved to find that 70 percent of voters said Trump’s treatment of women bothered them some or a lot. And voters had reassuring answers on immigration and Trump’s trustworthiness as well. Seven of 10 voters think illegal immigrants working in the U.S. should be offered legal status. And just 33 percent of voters judged Trump to be honest—a slightly lower score than Clinton’s 36 percent rating on the issue.

In effect, America voted for Trump not because they trust or respect or even agree with him, but as a protest against a broken system. It makes a certain sense. Our U.S. economy has become a roller coaster of economic instability for many people, one where gains have gone mostly to those at the top. The resulting anxiety and sense of unfairness fueled Bernie Sanders’ surprising campaign as well.

The pull of Trump and Sanders can be seen as a collectivedesire to push the pause button on the way the U.S. and the global economy work. So that it can work better for everyone. I’m sympathetic to that impulse to slow down or stop the machine. I see in it a rebellion against a business climate that is speeding ahead so fast and demanding so much of our time that many Americans feel overwhelmed and out of balance. We do need a reset. Trump, more so than Clinton, told “forgotten Americans” that he cared about them. And they put in him in office.


I’m inclined to think those voters have just been conned. That Trump will hurt rather than help angry, frustrated Americans. But I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he sometimes says things that are quite reasonable. Like in his victory speech Election night. “Now it is time for America to bind the wounds of division,” he said. “Every single American will have the opportunity to realize his or her fullest potential,” he added. “The forgotten men and women of our country will be forgotten no longer.”

Sounds good to me. And I like the fact that Trump wants to dramatically improve our national infrastructure.

That plan has serious question marks, I realize. But I’m trying to practice forbearance with Trump and voters who elected him. At the same time, I’m determined to fight for people and principles Trump and his allies may attack. A friend, an Episcopalian, plans to sign up as a Muslim if Trump follows through with his Nazi-like plan to make all American followers of Islam register. I plan to join him.

In other words, combine protest and patience. I’m trying to choose these over apathy and panic.


In the wake of the dust-up over my Facebook post of Skyla’s putty protest, my wife and I discussed how to talk things over with Skyla. And about what else could be meant by “F… Trump”

Rowena liked “Fire Trump.” Clever, I thought. But I don’t think that treats him much better than the F-U-C-K version. I wanted a go-high-when–they-go-low version.

I thought of “Fine”, as in “Fine, Trump, you’re the president-elect. Let’s try to make this work.” But that’s a bit passive, if not passive aggressive. So I did a word search for four-letter words beginning with “F.”

And the first one I found struck me as spot on: “face.”

“Face Trump.”

That is, look clear-eyed at what his election means, what led to it. Confront what risks he presents, as well as what possibilities. Be open to new facts and humble enough to listen to the other side, in the spirit of moderation—a mindset that is especially important to our democracy at the moment.

In other words, deal with the reality of Trump's election with courage, grit and humility.

Even if with a bit of distaste.



In fact, that’s basically what Skyla’s stick figure was doing—its big round face looking outward with a half-smile grimace.

In a provocative yet restrained way, Skyla’s art may have contained an answer for how we all can move the country to a better place.

Protest the Trump election. Yet also grin and forbear it.