I’m angry. Deeply, profoundly, angry.
I’m just a guy. A sixty-year-old, white, middle-class, American guy. I’m married, I work for a living, and I pay my share of withholding, Social Security, and Medicare taxes every two weeks. I spend more time than I should looking at my 401K, calculating and re-calculating how much longer I have to work before I can comfortably retire. I have privilege, no doubt, but I’m not special. I’m just a guy.
I have a couple of work deadlines this week, I need a haircut, and tomorrow, I’m driving a friend to a medical procedure. On Saturday, my husband and I are going to a friend’s baby shower, and on Sunday, I’ll probably pay a few bills and do a load of laundry while I’m watching the NFL playoffs. There are a few other chores around the house I need to do this weekend, and I definitely won’t end up doing them.
I’m just a guy and those are the petty details of my life. I imagine they aren’t so different from yours. Maybe you have kids to manage or an out-of-town trip to plan, maybe the details of your errands, pleasures, and commitments diverge a bit from mine, but at the core, we’re probably more alike than we are different. We do our best each week, and we hope it's enough.
Here's the thing—on top of all that, we shouldn’t have to wake up each day and wonder what fuckery our nation was up to overnight. We shouldn't find ourselves hesitant to turn on the nightly news after work, because we worry that it will drive up our blood pressure. We shouldn't have to keep our government in sharp, constant focus, every single day. It’s exhausting, unnecessary, and hurtful, and it leaves me angry. Deeply, profoundly, angry.
I am angry at Donald Trump for his blatant depravity and at the GOP for its craven soullessness. I am angry at the Democratic Party for its ineptitude, for the collective inability of its leadership to recognize that this moment in history is not like others, for its failure to see that this moment calls for something deeper, wider, and bolder than politics as usual.
I am angry with those who have told me since 2015 that I was overreacting, and I am angry with myself for not reacting like our government could actually become as horrible, shameful, and dangerous as it has.
I am angry at America for not knowing better, not doing better, and not being better.
I’m angry. Deeply, profoundly, angry. But that is not enough.
I’m just a guy. A white, middle class, American guy, who throughout his sixty years, has seen and heard and learned about life, human nature, and America. And now, when I’d rather be pleasantly preparing for retired life, I must instead spend countless days putting this knowledge to use, figuring out how I can best help, and contributing, in whatever ways I'm able, to the effort to defeat hatred and tyranny, and to restore democracy and decency.
One last thing that's become clear to me—no one is coming to our rescue. So, be angry. Be deeply, profoundly angry. Be dismayed at the horror, outraged at the unfairness, and be afraid, if you must…and then do what you can do. I can make this better, and so can you.
