OK, now that it’s safe(r) for Trumpsters to come out of the closet, I feel compelled to address two approaches to Trump-favoring people that are out there on the part of those who don’t particularly care for him. One approach is characterized by a sort of generic amazement that there could be anyone sentient on the Trump side. The other is characterized by the conclusion that the explanation lies in the awfulness of those who favor him.
Addressing the first of these two, I have found an odd desire on the part of some people to help me through my mental malaise. It’s as though they pity me sympathetically, feeling a condescending need to show me the error of my ways. If only I could wend my way through the confusing misinformation and reset my analysis around the obvious incontrovertible truth that there is no rational way to favor Trump, I would surely get to the correct answer that the only reasonable side is the other side.
Now, you may indeed be smarter than I am. And surely there may be appreciated things that you can say that would educate me or challenge whatever analyses I’ve undertaken. But the missionary-type efforts to save me from myself, in some kind of surreal noblesse-oblige way, are quite unnecessary and unappreciated. At this particular moment in history, one might even suggest that the efforts to assist should be made in the other direction, but I myself would never suggest such a thing.
So that takes us to second approach to my political views, which is the awfulness that must inexorably characterize me. If I’m not a confused waif aimlessly wandering the desert, then I must simply be horrible. Racist? Misogynist? Nazi/Klan? Boy, it must be great not only to have a point of view, but to be, in fact, correct. I guess I’ll never know like what that feels; I guess I’ll just have to live with the awfulness that characterizes me.
Or will I? I will put my morality, devotion to family, general ethos and overall approach to life up against yours any day. Possibly, you really are better than I am. Or possibly not. I’m willing to compare, if that’s the door you want to open. At a minimum, I’d like to hope that I’m in the game. The fact that someone doesn’t agree with you politically doesn’t make that person corrupt. This is not a one-party system. We don’t live in China, Cuba, Iran or Russia. I don’t have to be on your team.
At this point, one could almost start to try to turn the tables and to ask the question: how could you have been, and indeed how can you be, on the other side of this two-sided coin? However, it’s only an “almost”. Of course there’s another side. And that’s the whole point. The key is to recognize that, without condescension, haughtiness or derision. Have a conversation. The person who disagrees with you politically may be every bit as smart and wonderful as you are.
And that person can still be your friend. When the two poles of the debate have become (i) maybe I could be a friend to a Trumpster but I could never be in a relationship and (ii) I couldn’t even be a friend; then, I think, the debate has lost its way. Maybe, just maybe, as Dave Mason said, we just disagree.
Onwards . . .