by: ShaRhonda Dawson
Every day that Donald Trump is still President, the part of me that believes in the…potential…the potential for justice through a democracy…dies a little.
I am grieving because I am falling out of love with the potential of my America.
I have been invested in “my America” my entire life. I have been civically and politically active since I was 8 years old and an essay on Michael Dukakis to prove it. I knew all the ugly history, yet still, I was soooo in love with working on creating “a more perfect union.”
Largely this is because “My America” has mostly had people (“my Americans”) who thought and believed like me, that democracy is a great idea. “My Americans” knew that we had to fight the Americans who instead of trying to “form a more perfect union” were blindly patriotic, indifferent to genocide, and had amnesia about the terrible stuff. They were the “Make America Great Again” people.
“My America” people disagree, is obsessed with war, has horrible racial/sexist policies, and is founded on the genocide of millions of Native Indigenous Indians…
“My America” and “My Americans” have hope in the potential for a better world.
“My America” can’t understand an America where Donald Trump is the President.
I’m afraid, “My America” is being murdered and I have to watch the gory destruction of my country by Trump on the news every day.
I’m grieving because my dream for “my America” is dying and I am being forced to accept it.
“My America” is being murdered, by Donald Trump, and all the people who do nothing to stop him.
Instead, I fear I can only see the real America, and “my America” was just a dream.
I see the real America that my enslaved ancestors saw
I see the real America that the Indigenous Native Americans saw
I see the real America that knows about all the people who survived genocide but still deny them refugee status to our country.
I see the real America that the Palestinians see every day because of they who are bombed, killed, and oppressed with America’s support.
I see the real America that the children who were escaping a country looking for freedom, hope, and “my America, see when they were ripped from their parents’ arms and put in detention centers.
Most painfully, I see Americans, who I thought were “my Americans” that are more concerned with…the image of America being great, that they will not admit nor stop the execution of our country!
I mean, “My Americans” don’t like Trump, and know we fucked up big time as a nation
The people in “my America” would be doing everything in our power to stop it this crazy man.
“My America” and “My Americans” would fight like hell to get Trump the FUCK out of office and in prison for the numerous atrocities he has committed.
“My Americans” would be planning a revolution to support the ideas of America and would be fighting, like hell, to create, “a more perfect union.”
Trump is evil.
And, when good people do nothing to stop evil, they are evil too.
So I’m preparing to say goodbye.
I’m in hospice
Because “My America” is dying.
And, “Make America Great Again” is getting away with murdering her.