I know. I barely blog anymore. Last entry was... let me check... yikes! December 30th, 2015. I missed all of 2016 and over half of 2017! That's 20 months! My bad...? I've started the occasional blog post here in Japan, but I've only published two total, and the rest are lingering in draft form with varying amounts of paragraphs and to different degrees of completion.
So, um, 2016. What a year. A year with a lot of ups and downs and a lot going on. I guess I could give the synopsis version of last year, because even if I didn't do any blogging, there's plenty worth mentioning.
In fact, I've got a lot to talk about in general. I've written this in bits and pieces, and not consecutively at all. I'm going to break into parts; don't feel like you need to read it all in one sitting. I know I wouldn't.
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January: Back to Tokyo for semester two of my first year at Canadian International School Tokyo.
So, um, 2016. What a year. A year with a lot of ups and downs and a lot going on. I guess I could give the synopsis version of last year, because even if I didn't do any blogging, there's plenty worth mentioning.
In fact, I've got a lot to talk about in general. I've written this in bits and pieces, and not consecutively at all. I'm going to break into parts; don't feel like you need to read it all in one sitting. I know I wouldn't.
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PART ONE: WHAT I DID IN 2016
January: Back to Tokyo for semester two of my first year at Canadian International School Tokyo.
Late February / early March: Applied for the position of PYP Coordinator at my school for the next year and got it! This position is like an elementary curriculum coordinator, but specifically for International Baccalaureate's Primary Years Programme. It makes me responsible for implementing the PYP properly at our school.
Spring break was two weeks long, however, and Sarah's visit happened the first week. After that I went off to southern Thailand by myself. Shayne and I had discussed travelling together, but it never happened. She went to Taiwan and I went to Phuket (pronouced "pu-kett" - get your mind out of the gutter.) I visited Bangkok and northern Thailand in October 2012, and briefly found myself there again in 2014 when Nicole and I flew into Bangkok to take a bus to Laos, but I hadn't been to the southern part of the country yet. The rough stereotype is that the north is culture and hill treks, the south is beaches and parties. So I went with the idea that I was only going to relax on the beach and go scuba diving if I could, and not worry about soaking up the culture. All in all, I made plenty of new friends at my hostel and had a great week. And I did get to go scuba diving and even saw a cultural site to boot - the Phuket Big Buddha.
May: The second semester at our school goes much faster than the first. Usually we have no vacation time in the fall, and then three weeks off in spring. Besides the two weeks for spring break, we also have a week off for something called Golden Week. There are a bunch of Japanese holidays that all fall closely together, so usually everyone gets the whole week off. I stayed in Tokyo and took it easy, but I did do one overnight trip to Matsumoto where I rented a bike, saw an old castle, visited a wasabi farm!May and June: Back at school, Shayne and I were preparing like crazy for the PYP Exhibition. It's the final project of elementary school in PYP schools, so as the the Grade 5 teachers, we had a lot of work to do. The students pick a topic they're interested in and research about it. It's more than just a book report though; they usually pick something broad that they can investigate and take action on. Our kids picked the topics of bullying, earthquake relief, climate change, the impact of technology, disease in poor countries, and endangered animals. They worked really hard and their exhibitions turned out great!
Late June: We had PYP Exhibition, 5th grade graduation, and then it was the end of the year. Our last instructional days were during the 3rd week of June and then teachers had in-service and housekeeping on the 4th week. I said good-bye and see you next year to co-workers at the end-of-year staff party, and headed home as soon as I could, July 1st. Got stuck in Toronto (or, technically, a Mississauga airport hotel) overnight as my flight was cancelled for some reason. I was all right with the situation - even got to see Canada Day fireworks from my window! - until I found out I wasn't given enough of a money voucher to cover both dinner and breakfast. Because stuff happens, flights get cancelled, but I shouldn't have to pay out of my own pocket to feed myself, of all things, when it's Air Canada's fault. Since then, I've been sticking to the direct MSP to Tokyo flight from Delta.
July and August: At home, enjoying the Minnesota summer!
Late August: Back to Tokyo for year two at CIS. Teachers arrived during the last week of August and students came back the first week of September. I adjusted to my new role as PYP Coordinator and transformed the old PYP office into something much cheerier than it had been before. It now looks like half office, half classroom, because I teach my language support classes in there too. This past year (2016-2017) I taught a group of 2nd graders and a combined group of 4th and 5th graders. My day consisted of admin stuff in the mornings and language support (i.e. ELL classes) in the afternoons, with some PYP meetings after school as well. It was a great schedule and one I hope to have next year too.
September: With a slight shift in our school calendar, we suddenly got a three day weekend! Shayne, Chantelle and I decided to visit to Seoul, South Korea that weekend, which is only an hour's flight from Tokyo. Shayne taught there from 2014-2015 so she acted as our tour guide. We went to Gyeongbokgung Palace, ate Korean barbecue, and even visited a sheep cafe! (Buy something at the cafe, pet the cafe's sheep afterward. They were ever so fluffy.)October: Got to go to Singapore for a PYP three-day training. It was a class called "Role of the Coordinator" and not only was it great to meet other people who have my same job, but I got to see Mildred!
November and December: The long haul to winter break. We haven't usually had a fall break, but it's in the calendar for next year at least. I don't have much to report on, other than all the world politics going on, which is what the rest of the blog will be about.
That's just 2016. I'll save 2017 for another time.
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PART TWO: EXPERIENCING AMERICAN DEMOCRACY AND GLOBAL POLITICS WHILE LIVING IN JAPAN
The fact of the matter is, I do live in something of an expat bubble. Not knowing Japanese, I can't read the local newspaper or watch the news.
It's kind of embarrassing, but after two years, I know far less Japanese than the amount of Indonesian I knew after two years in Jakarta. There are three alphabets, I speak English all day long for my job, and well, it's difficult! My Japanese vocabulary consists of words and phrases like: water, beer, tea, coffee, tuna, ramen, chopsticks, bridge, road, river, rain, enter, exit, north, south, east, west, please, thank you, thank you very much, pardon, excuse me, etc... I know the words for red, white, blue, and green, but I don't know any other colors. I learned the word yes right away, but no is trickier for some reason. Some of these words I can speak but can't write or read, and some I can read, but can't pronounce. For example, this is the word for rain: 雨 It looks like raindrops falling! But I don't know how to say it. I see that character and hear the word "rain" in my head. Another example is: 切, which is on many of the appliances in my apartment. I have no idea how to pronounce it, but I know that it's next to the off switch on all those appliances, so in my mind it's simply "off". On the other hand, I use the phrase "arigatōgozaimasu" or, thank you very much, on a daily basis, but couldn't write or read it. I have to admit, it's kind of frustrating being this illiterate. I'm working on learning the alphabets, but it's hard. I would probably benefit from taking a class. But... I digress. My point is that I sadly miss out on a lot of Japanese news and information because of this, even with a fair amount of English signage around.
I do have access to the Japan Times and Tokyo Weekender though, which are published in English. It's nice that in such a big city you can actually find relevant English resources. They can bridge the gap between English language and Japanese culture. However, my Facebook feed is almost entirely based on my American life, and most of the people I talk to in a day are expats too. I try my best to observe and absorb some of the political culture around me, international or local. It's almost always interesting.
HAVING CONVERSATIONS
Politics is constantly in the news. American politics are on Japanese TV but we also get the news from the internet: Facebook, Youtube, online newspapers, the Daily Show, podcasts, and everything else. I often listen to NPR through my phone as I walk to school. And we talk about it... a lot. And as expats from many different countries, we have different perspectives on different issues. I don't remember exactly when the following conversation happened, but it was probably in October last year. Some time before the election.
A particular colleague of mine (Colleague A) was going on at some length about American politics and what a shame it was and generally "mansplaining" all about it. I hesitate the use the word, because it's a bit too gendered in my opinion. (Women can "mansplain" too, and is it really a fair term?) However, this was an instance of that phenomenon in it's truest form: a middle-aged man going on about a topic he admittedly knows something about, but with an authority that far exceeds what he actually knows, for the benefit of the poor, uneducated listeners.
We were in two groups at the pub, sitting next to each other but having two separate conversations. My ears picked up at the sound of a spirited political discussion. I heard the rampant "mansplaining" and came over to join in. Anyone who knows me well knows that my default mode is one of polite diplomacy. However, when I hear things that are just truly ridiculous, I hold the speaker accountable. Especially if it's a mix of the ridiculous and the offensive. For better or worse, I often give people the benefit of the doubt for far too long and then snap into full-on debate mode. This was one of those times.
I'm one of three Americans at my school. So most of the time, when I discuss politics, it's with people who aren't American and haven't lived there. That's not a problem. The world follows American politics (it's just the way of things) and people from all over like to chime in with their thoughts, questions, and opinions. It leads to some great discussions! This was different, however, because it crossed some sort of subtle line. A conversation with two other colleagues (B and C, we'll call them) later clarified it. You know how you can criticize your own family and it's okay, but when someone else does, it's suddenly not? When you do it, it's normal grumbling and complaining. When someone else tries to do the same, it becomes an unacceptable insult. You don't get to criticize other people's families. You're not a part of it, you don't get a say. You can be well-informed. You can observe. You can even comment. But you don't get to pretend you're an insider when you're not. And Colleague A was doing this. Not an American himself, and having never lived in the US, he was opining about the election and the forces behind it with a level of assumed authority that approached arrogance.
So I stepped in and put an end to it with facts and a no-nonsense approach. And it worked because I'm well-informed, I'm thoughtful and analytical, and I'm an insider. Colleague A thought he had commentative carte blanche; however, as fascinating as our current politics are, please don't act like you have some deep understanding of the US if you've never even lived there. Weeks later, Colleague B told me that it was rather gratifying to watch it all unfold. I couldn't help but feel somewhat proud at that.
I hope that doesn't sound vindictive. It's just that, of all things, being an expat has made me something of an American apologist. I know, it's weird, and really unexpected. Tell the truth, I have plenty of criticisms about American politics and culture at the moment (which you will hear later) but there is also a voice in me that wants to shout, "Our country is complex! We don't always make the right decisions, and criticism might be due, but please! Do it thoughtfully!"
That episode was an exception to the norm though. Although some people can be insensitive, and there can be the occasional interaction that makes me cringe, the majority of conversations and interactions are very respectful. People are fascinated (and horrified) by what they see, and of course they want to talk about it.
America has a huge amount of power and resources, and, I think, a moral obligation to use both wisely. So we get held to a higher standard and are subject to the worlds' eyes on us, resulting in tons of attention, analysis, criticism, and commentary.
I believe America deserves the analysis it receives because - like it or not - we're still a hegemonic power in the word and it's really, really important for America to be held accountable by the international community. But I think those on the outside making the analysis, criticism, and commentary might feel spectacularly uncomfortable if they suddenly found their countries receiving the same sort of treatment. For example, I wonder how my Canadian colleagues would feel if an equivalent amount of airtime and media energy was spent dissecting the politics and policies of Ottawa.
It's easy to throw in your two cents when it comes to criticizing a powerful country like the U.S. It's also deserved, and important, but please, be mindful and make sure you actually know what you're talking about.
INTERNATIONAL REACTIONS
Let me draw a comparison between the perception of America in Indonesia versus Japan, as I've experienced it at least. It's not a totally fair comparison because Indonesia was then (i.e. Obama) and Japan is now (i.e. Trump.) But, I think I can pick out a few key points about how the two countries perceive America. Unfortunately, there are things about both that make me uneasy.
In Indonesia, it seemed like America was a "shining city upon a hill" to an exaggerated, uncomfortable degree. Those old myths about streets paved with gold could almost be believed if you learned all you knew about America in Indonesia. It was almost like it wasn't a real place, only a place of celebrity and myth, not a place where people actually lived and died and struggled. That celebrity status seemed flattering on the outside, but was actually shallow and insulting too.
In Japan, there is a lot more criticism, some of it warranted, some of it not. There's friendliness and coolness both. Japan and Minnesota have this in common: outward politeness masking inward conservatism. People here are very polite and nice; they're helpful to foreigners, smile at you, talk kindly with you, and... don't rent out their apartments to you and put you in the furthest corner of the restaurant, even when you and your friends are early enough to beat the dinner rush. (We call this the "foreigner corner." It rhymes! It's fun! ... Kind of...) Those things apply to how all foreigners are treated though. Concerning US expats, overall, people in Japan (as elsewhere in the world) mark a different between the US government and individual Americans. At least they do currently.
A good handful of my colleagues and friends have been in Japan through the Bush and Obama administrations. Those who have - both Americans and non-Americans - say that there was more anger, condemnation, and blaming during the Bush administration. American citizens were held personally responsible for what Washington did. But that's not the case anymore. The Trump administration is a different beast. A truly scary and unpredictable one. The overwhelming feeling these days isn't distaste, it's disbelief and pity.
In his speech about America's withdrawal from the Paris Agreement, Trump said that the world won't laugh at the US anymore. Guess what? I'm out there in "the world." Nobody is laughing at us. They're looking at us with shock and genuine concern, saying, "Hey, you guys ok? What is going on over there? And when do we need to start panicking?" You can believe that the recent heightened tensions with North Korea have Japan on edge, and some places have taken up "duck and cover" like drills again. This idea that the world laughs at America is paranoid and simply false. The fact of the matter is, the world is watching us with one raised eyebrow and bated breath.
BEING PART OF DIFFERENT COMMUNITIES
One really nice thing about living in Tokyo is that the expat population is huge. According to a very unofficial Google search I did just now, over 51,000 Americans live in Japan and about 17,000 live in Tokyo. And supposing those numbers are at least ball-park-accurate, the number of Americans in my current city outnumbers the town where I grew up. And being expats, we tend to be fairly tuned into current events and global issues that might affect us and others. And that means opportunities to vote, participate, organize, and resist.
On the official end of things, I joined Democrats Abroad, which gave me a chance to vote in theprimaries, which was very nice! I also sent my election ballot by mail to Ramsey County election headquarters and then celebrated the fact that I can exercise my democratic rights even when not in the US in person. On the unofficial end of things, there have been post-election protests. I've only been to one so far, but I'm glad that there are opportunities at all to join in and make my voice heard.
For a brief period it felt like it might be a new protest every week. Shayne and I went and marched from Hibiya Park to Roppongi for the Women's March. We chanted in English and Japanese both and followed a path laid out for us by the police. We were some of the first to march because of where we are in the world (time-zone wise) and it felt good to share that with an ad hoc community. After the the travel ban was put in place, another colleague and I were going to protest, but we missed that one unfortunately. Protests have to be cleared with the police and they had a weird window of time in the morning, so we couldn't make it. But whether in Tokyo or Minnesota, I try to keep one ear to the ground; I'd like to be ready to jump into action if need be.I really love America, and ultimately, it's my home, but Japan is safer and more stable right now. Sometimes it feels silly to live and resist from so far away, but I have a good and comfortable life and many communities that I love. Being an expat means walking two worlds, and I feel that acutely these days. Family, friends, I have to be honest with you: I'm not really interested in living in the United States while Trump is president. I will eventually come back to the US, but not now.
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PART THREE: WHAT THE HELL?!
So this blog post has been in storage for quite a while. Certain events in the past months have prompted me to pull it out again, read it, add on, and edit it. Events such as the verdict in the Philando Castile case, and more recently, the violence in Charlottesville. The feeling of catharsis I get from writing is necessary and therapeutic. Maybe this blog is an angry fist-shake at the universe. New events give me an emotional push and the old draft form of the blog post gets a shove and sees the light of day.
In June, the Philando Castile verdict came out and my heart broke again, prompting another update of this blog post. Maybe someday it will be the name of someone I know on the news. Maybe it will be a former student who gets shot. It's not all that unbelievable. There are patterns here, and if past behavior is the top predictor of future behavior, what's to say it won't just keep on happening?
Last week, the vile resurgence of neo-Nazis in America was in the news. Maybe they've been there all along, but now they feel emboldened, like their hour has come. I find it sickening that Americans are committing acts of terror against other Americans, and all the more sickening that our president can't quite bring himself to roundly condemn them. What does give me hope is that there are more people upset and stirred to action against racism than there are people who actually want to march under a banner of hate.
It's all I can do to keep myself strong and not succumb to bitterness and anger myself. (Because, as a wise old jedi said once, I'm pretty sure it leads to the dark side.) It's difficult, and I don't always succeed, but I try to feel the anger and then let it go.
This blog - in general, I mean, not this particular blog post - is meant to share my experiences abroad. I began this blog to share my travels in Indonesia, and now Japan, not to voice my views on current events. You might asked, "Why bother? The election was over nine months ago." Well, because, this is just so big, and things are not starting to feel normal. As I mentioned before, I wrote this originally for myself, but these are weird times we live in and I think this piece of writing is still relevant. I have a strong desire to put my voice out there.
I've put it an another font to establish that this was written in the days following the election. I'll let November-2016-me rant and August-2017-me will edit it only very lightly. If I sound angry in this rant, it's because I am. And if my words make you angry, I hope it will be a good sort of anger, not a bitter one, and that you'll continue reading to the end.
I write when I feel moved to. And what's moving me now? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, though no acceptance as of yet. Yes, I'm referring to the - abominable in my opinion - results of the US election four days ago. What the hell America?!
Can I just vent a little bit? Like a lot of people, I'm asking myself "How did this happen?" Who are all these people who voted for Trump? And why? I suppose there are a lot of reasons. I don't want to immediately gravitate to issues of racism, misogyny, and homophobia, but honestly, these are forefront in my mind.
I would still like to believe that the hardcore white nationalists, the KKK sympathizers, the alt-right are a minority in our country. I know they are. I think a lot of people may have voted Trump / Pence because they want to burn the system down, they want to "drain the swamp," or they still believe - incredibly - the Trump's business resume is somehow relevant. But that means a whole hell of a lot of people cast of vote of support - active or passive - for those radical, dangerous, repugnant ideas, because, let's be honest, those ideas are intrinsically tied up with the Trump train. A vote to "drain the swamp" is a vote for racism, and a vote to burn the system down is a vote for homophobia, and a vote for Trump's stance on the economy, or trade, or any other issue, is a vote for misogyny. It's all tied up together.
Truly, you never get a perfect candidate who will represent everything you want. All candidates have flaws and baggage, so we usually take the bad with good. But Trump is so repugnant, so far beyond the pale, that I believed his moral shortcomings would be enough for people to reject him wholesale. And... technically, most people did. More people voted for Clinton than Trump, which is a tiny bit of comfort, but it wasn't by all that much. I am dismayed not only by the way the electoral college has skewed the democratic process, but by the fact that it was that close! This outrages me. Not the fact that radical right-wing fascism exists, but that roughly half of the people who voted on Tuesday could give their endorsement to any form or expression of it.
[Note: Clinton's lead grew quite a bit since I first wrote this. Doesn't really diminish my outrage though. First of all, I would have liked to have seen Trump utterly trounced. That was never very likely, though. Still, it's very frustrating that the principle of "one person, one vote" doesn't hold any weight, because through the electoral college, votes from certain states truly do count more than those from other states.
My numbers were a bit off at the time of writing because not everything had been tallied then. Now, the count stands at Clinton with 65,844,954 popular votes and Trump with 62,979,879. A nearly 3 million vote lead might sound big at first, but out of (what I believe is) almost 100 million eligible votes or thereabouts, it seems dismal to me. Below, I used the figure 59,000,000 as Trump's popular vote count because that was the most accurate at that time.]
We don't have 59,000,000 members of the KKK in America, but we do, apparently, have 59,000,000 people who are willing to vote for the same man wholeheartedly endorsed by the KKK. This isn't right.
[Note: Clinton's lead grew quite a bit since I first wrote this. Doesn't really diminish my outrage though. First of all, I would have liked to have seen Trump utterly trounced. That was never very likely, though. Still, it's very frustrating that the principle of "one person, one vote" doesn't hold any weight, because through the electoral college, votes from certain states truly do count more than those from other states.
My numbers were a bit off at the time of writing because not everything had been tallied then. Now, the count stands at Clinton with 65,844,954 popular votes and Trump with 62,979,879. A nearly 3 million vote lead might sound big at first, but out of (what I believe is) almost 100 million eligible votes or thereabouts, it seems dismal to me. Below, I used the figure 59,000,000 as Trump's popular vote count because that was the most accurate at that time.]
We don't have 59,000,000 members of the KKK in America, but we do, apparently, have 59,000,000 people who are willing to vote for the same man wholeheartedly endorsed by the KKK. This isn't right.
But...
It happened. It is done. And I have had a knot in the bottom of my stomach since they colored Florida in red.
As the election results rolled in, I was talking to my friends via Facebook and there was palpable fear in the words of the messages we sent back and forth. We felt sick. We were scared. The disgust and fear was rising in us like the taste of bile. And I don't want to hear for one moment that this is any kind of over-reaction.
Here is a man who makes me sick to my stomach and I feel all the more sick when I think that almost half of the country cast their ballots for him. It feels like a giant slap in the face. It feels like a giant "f*** you." It's not just a matter of seeing my preferred candidate lose. That's frustrating but tolerable. This is something else. Donald Trump has said many terrible, repugnant things about many groups of people. I am outraged at the hatred directed toward Muslims, Latinos, the LGBT community, women, African Americans, and veterans (let's not forget the gross insults hurled at the Khan family and John McCain.) [Seriously, how was his campaign not over the moment he called Mexicans rapists and criminals or when he disparaged John McCain's military service to our country. I still don't get it!] I only belong to one of those groups, however, so I will speak directly to Trump's attitude toward women. Let me be very frank. The reason I say this feels like a giant "f*** you" is because should it ever happen that I was sexually assaulted - say, for example, a gross old man grabbed me by my... crotch - about half the country would say, "Well, 'que sera, que sera.' These things can't be helped. At least that gross old man wasn't using a private e-mail server."
Passive acceptance of immoral behavior is equivalent to endorsement. I don't think it's extreme to say about half the country doesn't care about me or if I ever get sexually assaulted. Clearly it's not that big of a deal.
[The fact that I should have to spend any time or energy denouncing sexual assault, or those who think it's acceptable, is ridiculous. It. Is. Not. Okay.]
How can I trust that this country cares about me - or the dignity of all Americans - anymore? This is a moral line in the sand. I'm a pretty diplomatic person, but there's a time and place to draw those lines. I believe this is one of those times.
How can I trust that this country cares about me - or the dignity of all Americans - anymore? This is a moral line in the sand. I'm a pretty diplomatic person, but there's a time and place to draw those lines. I believe this is one of those times.
There is also the gross injustice of it all. If there's a woman you love in your life, I guarantee, she can remember the time, when, as a little girl, she learned that to be female is to be inferior. That girls aren't expected to do what boys can do, that sometimes they're not allowed to, and that women have been held back and treated like second class citizens for centuries. Children have such a strong sense of justice; I think as girls it outrages us to our core to know that people hate us for who we are. As we get older we learn to cope with the injustices of the world, and perhaps push that outrage down. But we still know it's there. Part of the way we, or at least I, cope with sexism is the belief that things are getting better. You hear it in the words of elementary-aged girls who reflexively say, "In the olden days it was bad, but now we have equal rights!" Now, we can work jobs! We can be engineers! We can be ambassadors! Still might not be making equal pay, but maybe it's on its way? So maybe, finally, we can be presidents too? Nope... Guess that was a bridge too far.
You don't have to like Hillary Clinton. A lot of people don't, and for many good reasons. She's a typical politician who comes with a lot of baggage. I understand how people might not like her as a candidate, but you'd have to be blind to not see the injustice of a loudmouth, blustery man with no job experience getting a promotion above a woman who is extremely qualified, competent, and hard-working. As I said before, it is personal, and it is a slap in the face.
This is one of three times in my life that I have received a shock to my system so severe that it will have changed me permanently. A gut punch that will leave an impact on my psyche and outlook forever.
The first instance was when I was 12. September 11th brought war and terrorism crashing down around me and shattered a good portion of my childhood innocence. That was another time when fear and hatred were palpable. I couldn't understand the carnage or the hatred in the hearts of the people who had made it happen. I distinctly remember hearing planes flying overhead that night - after a no-fly rule had been immediately imposed - knowing that whatever I was hearing was official and terrifying. Things were never quite the same after that.
The second instance was the shooting death of Trayvon Martin, which shattered the idea that I was living in a post-racial society. Memories of the story of Emmett Till - another boy murdered by adult men, his mutilated, bloody body left for all to see in an open casket - came flooding back to me and my eyes were opened to the fact that so little has changed in sixty years. My heart broke deeply and I came to realize that racial tension isn't necessarily getting worse, it's just that I'm now seeing more of it. And as the years pass (Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray, Eric Garnder, Philando Castille) I all too frequently cry in rage and despair as I think about black students I've taught, happy, dorky, innocent little kids, who might face violence just because the world sees black bodies as inherent threats.
And now, with this, I feel a level of shame, fear, disgust, and outrage I have never known before. I'm an optimistic and kind-hearted person. My natural state is to think well of others and love the world. It hurts, very badly, when this natural state gets crushed. September 11th taught me that it is possible to hate an entire nation and mass murder its people. Trayvon Martin's murder taught me that racial hatred is unfortunately alive and well. And now, this election has taught me that about half the country just doesn't care that much about the wholesale racial profiling of entire groups of people, the banning of an entire religion, the dignity of war veterans or people with disabilities, or the sexual assault of women. How is this possible?! It hurts very badly indeed.
I was feeling such despair when I wrote that, it felt like my emotions might just let loose like an earthquake. How am I feeling now? Less bitter on some days, but no less outraged. That pit in the bottom of my stomach hasn't really gone away. I still feel sick. On other days, new events - such as the ones I mentioned above - reopen raw feelings.
I shouldn't be so surprised at what's come out of the woodwork. I grew up in a town that had a lot of apprehension and intolerance towards people of color, non-Christians, LGBT folks, anyone out of the mainstream really. Racial and homophobic slurs were heard all too commonly and used with a lot of purpose too. So it shouldn't surprise me that there are some seriously dark strains of hatred out there.
The thing that deals a harsher blow is that my opinion of my own country is just not what it used to be. The idea that we're all equal, that we're living in modern, progressive times, that there's "liberty and justice for all," well... it's true to a degree. But not in the way I used to believe in it.
I must admit, there is a sense of childhood betrayal, even at the age of 28. As kids we were told of the American Dream; we were told that we are all created equal, that we live in the freest nation in the world, that prejudice and discrimination were the worst things that could happen. (You wonder why millennials are more open-minded than previous generations? There's historical precedence for this, yes, but I also cite years of social studies curriculum that actively taught equality and anti-discrimination values. You can't just teach that for years and not have it sink in to a degree.) We were told that you, yes you, can achieve anything you want if you believe in it. Those ideas are still largely hardwired, but there is a growing sense that these were not truths so much as feel-good-statements. They were meant to bolster confidence rather than illuminate reality. That's true for me at least, but I wonder if it isn't true for much of my generation as well.
The "participation-trophy-generation" were told that no matter who you are or where you come from, the reward for participating in society and the economy would be a good job, a happy, healthy life, respect and dignity, you know, the usual stuff. Turns out, that's a myth. I have choicer words in mind, but let's call it a myth for now. This nation is still as prejudiced against minorities, women, and the poor as its ever been. In fact, it seems hate crime is on the rise.
But for the life of me, I can't figure out if things are actually getting worse or if this is just the process of getting older and realizing the world is bleaker than you thought. It may also be that, as a white, Christian kid, I was sheltered from the worst of the racial injustice this country has to offer. I suspect that there are growing cracks in my protective shell of white privilege. Am I catching a glimpse of what it's like out there, outside the relative safety of a suit of fair-colored skin? Because what I'm seeing disturbs me to my core.
Of course, it's a fact that we're making progress over the centuries. But I also believe we've taken a large jump back, and it's going to be all the more struggle to move forward again. I honestly used to believe in the American Dream. These days...? It's just not there anymore. I guess I grew up. I could have told you that "life isn't fair" from the time I was five, but it's only now that I'm seeing and feeling it with such a deep, emotional weight. And I haven't even faced all that much injustice myself! It's just that the cultural and political climate of the past couple of years have really shone a spotlight on things.
As I've said, this a personal journey for me and I suppose some will say, "You're just realizing this now?!" I probably should have known better. My rose-colored glasses have fallen off one eye, and now the other, and I'm just going to leave them off.
When you're young you see the world through your beliefs. As you grow up, you color your perspective through experience and evidence. I won't lie, I don't see any evidence that the American Dream, and American democracy, are anything other than on life-support. I'd be willing to bet, too, that a number of Trump-voters agree with me. We all know that we're suffering. The difference lies in what we think the nature of it is, why we think it's happening, and what needs to be done about it.
An ivory-towered, narcissistic bully, a megalomaniac billionaire who knows nothing and cares less, is President now. Don't look away, because you know that's right. He's the last person in the world who deserves it, but we put him there because we're scared and angry. We should be deeply ashamed of ourselves.
I was feeling such despair when I wrote that, it felt like my emotions might just let loose like an earthquake. How am I feeling now? Less bitter on some days, but no less outraged. That pit in the bottom of my stomach hasn't really gone away. I still feel sick. On other days, new events - such as the ones I mentioned above - reopen raw feelings.
The thing that deals a harsher blow is that my opinion of my own country is just not what it used to be. The idea that we're all equal, that we're living in modern, progressive times, that there's "liberty and justice for all," well... it's true to a degree. But not in the way I used to believe in it.
I must admit, there is a sense of childhood betrayal, even at the age of 28. As kids we were told of the American Dream; we were told that we are all created equal, that we live in the freest nation in the world, that prejudice and discrimination were the worst things that could happen. (You wonder why millennials are more open-minded than previous generations? There's historical precedence for this, yes, but I also cite years of social studies curriculum that actively taught equality and anti-discrimination values. You can't just teach that for years and not have it sink in to a degree.) We were told that you, yes you, can achieve anything you want if you believe in it. Those ideas are still largely hardwired, but there is a growing sense that these were not truths so much as feel-good-statements. They were meant to bolster confidence rather than illuminate reality. That's true for me at least, but I wonder if it isn't true for much of my generation as well.
The "participation-trophy-generation" were told that no matter who you are or where you come from, the reward for participating in society and the economy would be a good job, a happy, healthy life, respect and dignity, you know, the usual stuff. Turns out, that's a myth. I have choicer words in mind, but let's call it a myth for now. This nation is still as prejudiced against minorities, women, and the poor as its ever been. In fact, it seems hate crime is on the rise.
But for the life of me, I can't figure out if things are actually getting worse or if this is just the process of getting older and realizing the world is bleaker than you thought. It may also be that, as a white, Christian kid, I was sheltered from the worst of the racial injustice this country has to offer. I suspect that there are growing cracks in my protective shell of white privilege. Am I catching a glimpse of what it's like out there, outside the relative safety of a suit of fair-colored skin? Because what I'm seeing disturbs me to my core.
Of course, it's a fact that we're making progress over the centuries. But I also believe we've taken a large jump back, and it's going to be all the more struggle to move forward again. I honestly used to believe in the American Dream. These days...? It's just not there anymore. I guess I grew up. I could have told you that "life isn't fair" from the time I was five, but it's only now that I'm seeing and feeling it with such a deep, emotional weight. And I haven't even faced all that much injustice myself! It's just that the cultural and political climate of the past couple of years have really shone a spotlight on things.
As I've said, this a personal journey for me and I suppose some will say, "You're just realizing this now?!" I probably should have known better. My rose-colored glasses have fallen off one eye, and now the other, and I'm just going to leave them off.
When you're young you see the world through your beliefs. As you grow up, you color your perspective through experience and evidence. I won't lie, I don't see any evidence that the American Dream, and American democracy, are anything other than on life-support. I'd be willing to bet, too, that a number of Trump-voters agree with me. We all know that we're suffering. The difference lies in what we think the nature of it is, why we think it's happening, and what needs to be done about it.
An ivory-towered, narcissistic bully, a megalomaniac billionaire who knows nothing and cares less, is President now. Don't look away, because you know that's right. He's the last person in the world who deserves it, but we put him there because we're scared and angry. We should be deeply ashamed of ourselves.
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