Way back over Christmas, my dad and I were discussing Trump and I said, or so I thought, hyperbolically: "in the coming racewar, I'm sticking with the Black and Brown people." And now it seems that I was non-religiously prophetic. We are finally having that "national conversation" on race that we put off in 1968 because it seemed a little too freaky. And by "national conversation" I mean beating each other with the staffs of American flags.
I think LB and I have been having the same conversation that's happening in many white, progressive households:
LB: Is Donald Trump nice?
Me: No, he is not a nice man?
Me: He is nice to people with brown skin like L (a friend from school), he doesn't like people who speak Spanish like E (another friend), and he doesn't like women who cover their heads like M's mom.
LB: That isn't nice, it's wrong to tell someone you don't like them because they have brown skin. I'm friends with everybody.
Me: I know baby.
And it was all good, I'd kept the door open, continued our conversation about the world around us. And then this interview happened. And then it became the conversation of record: here. Shit. My little white girl could be one of those kids saying: "if Donald Trump is president, you can't live here anymore!" Not because she wants that to happen, but because she's five and that's what she heard me say (five year old version).
And I realized LB and I only had half the conversation. The next conversation is about: Donald Trump says mean things about people, but we won't let him do mean things. Sometimes people are mean, but it's our job to say "you are not allowed to do that!" We always help our friends if someone is being mean. And we vote.
A princess with a penguin on her head with an umbrella on his head.