Dear family member hell-bent on Trump,
You’re making me sad.
Today, I saw more news about Hillary’s emails. Moderate outlets report that the real “revelation” is that the FBI is covering their asses by taking a look at more emails to ensure that classified information wasn’t laid vulnerable within some private server in Chappaqua, New York.
Trump allows us to acknowledge — and even listen to — the sick, racist, misogynist and fascist thoughts festering within our own heads.
As many point out, deep government secrets aren’t likely shared over email. Osama Bin Laden wasn’t killed because someone sent a message on a Blackberry.
All told, less than 1 percent of the 62,320 emails sent by Clinton on that server contained classified information. To my family defending Trump by arguing about emails, or “Benghazi” (could you even point to it on a map?), or Clinton’s trustworthiness: again, give it up because you’re making me sad.
You’re excusing yourself from admitting that Trump shouldn’t be anywhere near classified information. Your endorsement excuses the hateful (and hollow) language he uses to stoke the xenophobia within Americans who believe that some unfamiliar force is coming for them. I’m sad because Trump allows us to acknowledge — and even listen to — the sick, racist, misogynist and fascist thoughts festering within our own heads. He allows us to lean on the idea that it’s okay to profile each other, talk shit about women behind closed doors, and verbally and physically abuse people, too.
Hillary’s life’s work makes her beyond qualified to be in the Oval Office. She’s always been in the room where it happens, and contrary to that “failed” commercial, that means she’s way more fit to be president than a man who found himself on this ballot almost by happenstance. Your support for Trump is confusing, but your vote for him is saddening. It speaks to the worst inside of you, and while I love the whole of you, I can’t see you through the tears.
Love, Ray
This article appears in Nov 3-10, 2016.