Tag Archive | donald-trump

The Hard, Holy Work of Repair in this America

The Unitarian Universalist Association follows a calendar of monthly themes that guide our service reflections throughout the year. The chosen theme for November was “Repair.” About six weeks prior to the November 5 elections, I volunteered to offer a “reflection on repair” on the Sunday following the election, knowing that both the content and the tone would be decisively shaped by the results. These are the words I shared. (PDF here.)

Like many of you, I woke up in a fog on Wednesday morning. It hung low and thick in the trees along our street—and equally low and thick in my soul.

Four days later the fog is still thick in my soul as I ask myself—and all of us: How shall we Unitarian Universalists, who have covenanted to transform the world through liberating love—how shall we practice the holy work of repair in this post-election America?

The question takes several forms.

First, how shall we do this for ourselves, for this community, and for others with whom we partner is seeking human flourishing and planetary well-being?

Tenderly, because our grief is deep, our fear is real, and our hope is raw. And we are weary. From Donald Trump’s first term to the Covid pandemic; from the murder of George Floyd to the economic anxiety felt by so many; from record heat and extreme weather to the past year’s turbulent presidential campaign, our spirits have been stretched and strained. Add in the unique challenges of our own lives, and it is no wonder we are weary! No wonder our grief is SO heavy, our fear SO palpable, and our hope SO breathless.

We will need more than tenderness to do this work, but without tenderness, we can’t even begin.

Also, with humble accountability, because we need this braver space more than ever right now. And that need asks each of us to be our best and bravest selves, because the depth of our connection is our best protection. So, let us be courageous in our care, generous with our empathy, and humbly accountable to one another as we create space that is brave enough to hold all our hearts as we lean on each other.

Also, with gratitude, because although this work is hard and we are weary, we are blessed to be working hard and feeling weary—together.

And, by engaging with others who share (at least some of) our hopes for the world. This may mean reaching out to our elected officials at the local, state, and national levels to ensure that whatever our democracy can do to care for people and planet, it does. It may mean forming new and surprising alliances with unexpected partners, because right now repair is fundamentally practical and even desperate work. And it will mean attending to the wounds in our wider community—wherever they’re found, because to practice repair is to be indiscriminate in the healing we offer and in the good we strive to do.

But there is a second, harder question to pose: How shall we practice the sacred work of repair in the strained relationships with family and friends, co-workers and neighbors—who in recent days have betrayed our deepest values and endangered our very being? Who cast their votes for a future that now holds multiple perils for us and for those we love—and for so many of the most vulnerable in our society?

How do we practice repair in these fractured relationships?With clear self-awareness and fierce grace and an open ache.

Clear self-awareness—because as much as we must rise to the challenge of this moment, none of us is asked to endanger ourself in relationships or conversations that are toxic to our soul. Simply put: it is important to know that some repair must be left wisely to the liberating love of others.

And fierce grace—because none of us is called to compromise our values or our love for sake of a false peace. So, we practice repair by continuing to lift up, resolutely and without apology, the sacred diversity of all persons and their right to flourish in our society. It may not be in our power to change our neighbors’ hearts and minds. But when we draw on the truth of our lived experience and the depth of our understanding to express our hearts and minds with fierce grace, we invite liberating love to do its work in their lives.

And open ache—that is, as we are able to, we MUST listen past our sense of betrayal, to the desperation that led some of these persons to compromise their morals to meet their perceived needs. I call this “open ache,” because it will be painful, and it will be more than some of us can do. But while repair never demands that we compromise our values or our loves, it does ask that we attempt to fathom the deep disillusionment, anxiety, or isolation beneath their worldview and vote.

No question, it would be easier to reject or even revile them. But the work of repair requires that some of us sustain an open ache if we hope to heal the fractures. And not only in our personal relationships, but also in the Democratic Party, which manifestly failed to connect its policies to the experience of the working class.

Finally, there is a third and even harder set of questions to pose.

We know unresolved trauma lives in the human body. It lives, too, and long in the body politic. The misogyny and genocide, racism and xenophobia, homophobia and transphobia, the relentless exploitation of laborers and the land—all these injustices and more, have become the collective trauma of our national identity.

And now the lack of an honest moral accounting with these worst choices of our past has compelled some of us—some millions of us—to project the echoes of those past choices onto our future. While couching them in rhetoric chosen to amplify a culture of intolerance, nationalism, and the persistent threat of violence.

How then shall we practice repair when the post-election reality promises to wreak havoc on our common life and the natural world? Havoc still being planned out, as we wait with dread?

How do we imagine the practice of repair, when the system will not actually be broken, but will be doing exactly what it is has been designed to do: reward the rich and punish the poor; dismantle our already weak safety nets; erase hard-won rights; gut public education; and, if possible, reduce democracy to a political charade?

When rupture itself is the PURPOSE of those in power, how then do we practice repair?!

We cannot know in advance, but I will say this much, because it has been true in earlier struggles for justice. It may be that the practice of repair in our civic life will mean, at least at times, to break the ordered disorder of unjust systems. To join in solidarity with others to oppose, impede and, when possible, to dismantle those policies that threaten the peace of people and planet.

Indeed, should the governing system become so oppressive as to constitute in practice the enemy without, in THAT fraught moment it may well become our task, our duty, even our joy, to so fully embrace liberating love that we practice repair by being the enemy within.

It was Theodore Parker, the famous Unitarian minister, who in 1853, first spoke of the long arc of the moral universe and its sure bend toward justice. I suspect that many Unitarian Universalists today are less sure of that bend. Few of us presume that anything is guaranteed, let alone the triumph of the Good. But we DO presume that the values we share, centered on liberating love, aspire to promote the Good. And as we practice the sacred work of repair, those shared values serve as levers by which we ourselves might, working together, bit by bit, here and there, bend that long arc toward justice.

The world—within and without—is longing for repair. This is holy work. It is our work. Let us begin.

* * *

David Weiss is a theologian, writer, poet and hymnist, “writing into the whirlwind” of contemporary challenges, joys, and sorrows around climate crisis, sexuality, justice, peace, and family. Reach him at drw59mn@gmail.com. Read more at www.davidrweiss.com where he blogs under the theme, “Full Frontal Faith: Erring on the Edge of Honest.” Support him in Writing into the Whirlwind at www.patreon.com/fullfrontalfaith.

Flying My Colors

Oct31

Flying My Colors
October 31, 2024 – David R. Weiss

The whole flag episode on Tuesday caught me off guard. I’ve never been the flag-waving type. But there I was, calling my local hardware store and asking with felt urgency whether they had—in stock—an American flag, on a pole, with a mounting bracket. Of course, they did. Multiple options.

I drove over and settled quickly on the “Eco-Glory” (yes, I rolled my eyes at the name): aluminum pole, mounting bracket, and a 100% polyester flag fashioned from eight recycled bottles. And 100% made in the U.S.A. For someone in a committed relationship with over thinking things, it’s nothing short of remarkable that less than an hour after I had the urge and made the call, I had the bracket mounted on our front deck railing and an American flag furling in the early evening breeze. Yesterday I even tracked down and bought a pair of solar spotlights so I can illumine the flag from either side with the nightfall coming early now.

Whence this surge of … patriotism? The word itself makes me nervous. But this election makes me even more nervous. Grieved. Unsettled. Angered.

Never in my lifetime have I witnessed a politician (or campaign) so focused on demonizing others. So relentless in belittling fellow candidates, other politicians, and any American citizens whose views and values differ from his own. So fashioned around whetting the public appetite for division and violence. So openly courting our worst human impulses.

It’s true, not everyone who votes for Donald Trump is misogynistic, racist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, white Christian nationalist, pro-authoritarian, or openly ecocidal. THAT’S ABSOLUTELY TRUE. But listen. I’m speaking now to my family and friends who plan to vote for Trump or who imagine some smug superiority in choosing neither candidate as though the differences are not monstrous.

(I have friends so dismayed by Harris’ complicity in Israel’s genocidal campaign in Gaza they cannot support her. I respect that profoundly principled and morally complicated choice, even as I chose to vote for Harris.)

BUT LISTEN: Almost every voter WHO IS misogynistic, racist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, white Christian nationalist, pro-authoritarian, or openly ecocidal, IS VOTING FOR TRUMP.

Let’s be painfully clear about this.

Almost every voter who regards women as most appropriately second-class citizens with no right to reproductive choice—not even birth control!—is HOPING Trump gets elected. Almost every voter who views people of color as fundamentally and essentially less than white people—and whose voices and votes should therefore be limited in every way possible—is HOPING Trump gets elected.

Almost every voter who regards lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender persons (among whom I count dozens—DOZENS!!—of friends and family) as disordered or worse—and whose civil rights and medical care should thus be forfeited—is HOPING Trump gets elected. Almost every voter who regards immigrants, especially those of color (with or without documents), as intrinsically threatening to our country is HOPING Trump gets elected.

Almost every voter who believes that God has ordained white people to rule(!) this country, to subjugate all other peoples, cultures, morals, and beliefs to some distorted and fundamentalist strand of Christianity is HOPING Trump gets elected. Almost every voter who thinks America should be ruled by an authoritarian dictator (and there are powerful elites who cultivate this notion)—is HOPING Trump gets elected. Almost every American voter who is eager to see repression, imprisonment, and violence wielded against “the enemy within”—“the left” (that’s me!)—is HOPING Trump gets elected.

And almost every voter who openly disregards the overwhelming scientific certitude about climate change and the desperate need to change our lives, most especially our use of fossil fuel—lest we wantonly destroy the future of our own children—is HOPING Trump gets elected.

You may not desire all these abominable things, but there are millions of voters who do—and they regard Donald Trump (and J.D. Vance!) as THE ticket to advance their nightmarish dream for America.

Is this really the company you choose to keep? The side of history you wish to stand on?!

This man is the most anti-Christian candidate who has ever run for the presidency. The fact that he wraps himself in the fawning embrace of some fundamentalist Christians only demonstrates the extent to which their beliefs and values—like Trump’s—are a direct betrayal of the teachings of Jesus himself.

There are some deep policy differences between Harris and Trump. And while I have been—and will continue to be—vocally critical of Harris on any number of policy positions, there is no question that, on the whole, Trump’s policy goals will do damage to America. They will erode human rights, civil rights, labor rights, and voting rights. Though he promises big gains for ordinary Americans, this is a mirage; his policies will work unfailingly to enrich the wealthy, empower corporations, fragment healthcare, and further despoil the planet. They will widen the gap between the rich and the rest of us. His immigration policy—utterly detached from history, economy, and international law—will accomplish nothing except to fan fear and civil unrest. His foreign policy will embolden authoritarian rulers to further abuse human rights, expand military conquests, and flaunt international law. He will undermine hope for democracy around the globe.

But even at that, this election is ultimately about more than policy differences.

It is fundamentally about personal character. And Donald Trump’s personal character is so deeply flawed as to be dangerous. His character represents a profound national security risk because it makes him prey to manipulation by foreign actors who will leverage his insecurities against our national security. I cannot believe that you don’t know this. And his character represents an equally profound domestic terrorism risk. His irrational anger at his political adversaries—whether they’re in office or marching in the streets—will drive him to abrogate civil rights as never before and his incendiary rhetoric will unleash waves of violence against all manner of targeted groups and persons (like me!). I cannot believe that you don’t know this.

I am aghast at Harris’ muted response to the genocide in Gaza (now effectively in Lebanon as well). I’ve written about this and made my views known to my Congressional representatives. I think many of her policy goals, while broadly liberal, remain structurally constrained by corporate interests. Still, I’m confident a Harris presidency will do some good, and much less harm than a Trump presidency. And I’m confident a Harris presidency will preserve my right to be a dissident patriot, allowing me to press her and others in government to craft policies that actually cares for people over profits. It’s a big ask, I know. To wrestle reality out of rhetoric. But I’ll make it. Persistently.

Which brings me back to that flag, still furling in solar-lit light long after dark last night. Trump has pretended for far too long that he and his campaign is all about “America.” That he—and his remade MAGA-GOP—have the only vision of America worthy of the flag. NO. Donald Trump’s vision is an abject betrayal of the ideals carried by that flag.

Fair enough: America has often only begrudgingly moved to embody its ideals—and that with kicking and screaming, civil war and many seasons of protest. But America is the dream of a country with liberty and justice for all. So, I’m flying my colors (right above my “radical left” yard signs) to make clear: the dream that is America is expansive and inclusive—and it belongs to all of us.

Donald Trump stands absolutely, arrogantly—and dangerously—against that dream. He drags the flag through the worst of our past and then flies it as a symbol for the moral atrocities he projects into the future—our future. No presidential candidate has ever so desecrated the American flag.

Such a man is not worthy of your vote.

* * *

Wither the Dream?

Jan23

Wither the Dream?
David R. Weiss – January 20, 2024

There is no ‘h’ missing in that opening word. I am not asking for directions. Least of all to Iowa. No, consider this an imprecatory op-ed.

This piece has been percolating since the Iowa Republican caucuses last week, but it’s not about Iowa’s Republican voters. It’s about MAGA America’s moral vision. That vision will shape America’s vote next fall (as it shaped Iowa’s vote last week). And, unchecked, it will wither the dream.

Which dream? Not the “American dream” of material prosperity, personal liberty, and individual success. Rather, I mean the dream of the America-that-could-be, were we ever to pursue our highest ideals as fervently as we cling to our most dangerous national myths. The promise of inclusive justice, far-reaching and secure civil rights, vigorous voter protections, and a commitment to mutual care over corporate or individual profit. That dream. It’s never yet been realized; not even close.

Indeed, it’s fair to say the founders themselves never intended for it to be realized. They almost certainly and “innocently” imagined their ideals reaching expansively toward a widening horizon of people … just … like … them. (White, propertied, men.) That doesn’t demean the dream itself. All of our dreams are framed (and thus limited) by the contexts of our lives. If we’re fortunate, the ideals behind those dreams carry seeds that can take root in the tiniest of cracks and bear within them the power to split concrete.

The ideals that drive the dream of the America-that-could-be carries such seeds. We saw this in struggle to abolish slavery. In the suffrage movements for blacks and women. In the labor movement. In the civil rights movements for women, persons of color, and LGBTQ persons. Though far from complete, the seeds of that dream have done much good.

But today that dream, its ideals and the seeds they carry are in peril. There are those—and their number is not small—who would wither the dream. Increasingly the moral vision that is broadly embodied (and emboldened) by the MAGA-constrained GOP is a vision of an America hellbent on doing just that. It is a dehumanizing vision, one set against the grounding ideals not only of Christianity, but also of humanism, and the core values of all the world’s great religious traditions.

Read those last two sentences as many times as you need to for them to sink in: The MAGA-constrained GOP vision for America is hellbent on withering the dream of the America-that-could-be. It is a dehumanizing vision that runs directly counter to the grounding ideals of Christianity, humanism, and the core values of all the world’s great religious traditions. This moral vision, wrapped in an American flag and dipped in “Christian” rhetoric is actually a consummate rejection and betrayal of both America’s highest ideals and Christianity’s deepest moral vision. And now—right now, this very year—it hopes to wither the dream once and for all.

In practice, all politics comes down to how communities choose to hold and share power—for whose benefit and through what processes. The often unseen, sometimes intentionally hidden infrastructure of politics is the notion of “moral community.” That is: who counts—whose wellbeing matters—when decisions are made? The systemic shortcomings—today we rightfully recognize them as systemic injustices—in the founders’ social vision were largely the result of the limits to their moral community. Enslaved persons, indigenous persons, black persons, women, those who didn’t own property, the poor, and poor children—all found their moral membership, the fullness of their personhood, unrecognized and unprotected. The ideals of the nation didn’t encircle them because they were left outside—excluded from—the moral community.

Today’s MAGA-constrained Republican Party has fashioned a moral community intentionally hemmed to exclude or diminish the humanity of a multitude of others through the not so subtle culture of xenophobia. Jesus would be appalled. So would Gandhi, the Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Mother Teresa, Harriet Tubman, Buddha, Confucius, Black Elk, Rumi, and many others whose perceptive wisdom, kindness, and moral courage has marked them as enlightened.

Within the MAGA moral vision, othering runs rampant. It is a white supremacist, nationalist, patriarchal moral community to which certain women and persons of color are extended guest privileges … but only insofar as they fit within its unquestioned value structure. Nikki Haley is an example of a woman of color who moves precariously across this landscape. She must deny the systemic racism in American society to maintain her place in the GOP community (even though she experienced it herself). And even so, Trump openly questions the legitimacy (the purity!) of her status in “his” moral community and asserts that the MAGA base will never support her.

This othering includes the diminishment (or altogether erasure) of the humanity of immigrants, persons of color, incarcerated persons, LGBTQ persons, women, hourly workers, and the poor (as well as a functional contempt toward the natural world). What becomes clear is that the MAGA moral community is set up according to strict binaries; within these binaries there are rigid power relationships; and those persons who challenge these power relationships must have their personhood diminished or erased so as to preserve the purity and order of the moral community.

What becomes equally clear is that the MAGA phenomenon is less about “family” values than about power. It naturally allies itself with values (rooted in identities rather than principles) that are well-suited for conserving power—and those values are “family” values only in the sense that they allow for the narrowing down of “family” into a moral community of persons … “just like us” (or willing to act within our power structure according to our terms).

As the 2024 election cycle unfolds, it will be helpful (although unsettling) to consider the policy positions and the rhetoric of Trump and other MAGA/GOP candidates through the prism of moral community, binary values, and the dream of the America-that-could-be. I think it will be quickly and painfully clear that they represent lightly veiled attempts to define “America” as a moral community that sounds expansive but is bounded by values that leave a multitude of us and our friends outside. And when it comes to moral communities, being on the outside is being in the wilderness. Exposed. Vulnerable. Targeted. And very much beyond the reach of the dream.

In future essays this spring I will explore further some of the ways this othering plays out. Including how religion plays into it. And how the Democratic establishment (including Joe Biden) misses critical opportunities to reach those disaffected voters (disaffected fellow citizens!) drawn to the MAGA/GOP fold but not hardcore members of the MAGA base. In this failure, Democrats themselves raise the risk of a catastrophic MAGA victory this fall.

Finally, I hope to offer some thoughts to engage the shrinking but all the more critical “moveable middle” of the electorate. Come November, these persons, who are hardly our closest political allies, will cast the ballots that decide whether this is the year we wither the dream. It’s time we figure out how to invite these folks to join us in pursuing the America-that-could-be.

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Slippery When Wet

Dec30

Slippery When Wet
David R. Weiss – December 30, 2023

The tears caught me off guard on Monday night (December 18). Margaret and I were in the middle of our weekly phone conversation with my dad when suddenly my voice broke. Next thing I knew, my words collapsed into a soggy mess as I tried to speak through the tears—and my surprise at the unexpected rush of emotion.

Earlier that day we’d driven about 20 miles up to the Heritage Center of Brooklyn Center in the northeast Metro for our son-in-law Will’s naturalization ceremony. Will is from Nicaragua. He met our daughter, Meredith, a decade ago when she spent two-plus years in Nicaragua working for a Minnesota-based nonprofit that supported grassroots projects there. Eventually they married and had a child. When Meredith’s work there ended in 2015, they came back to Minnesota together, and Will got a green card, allowing him to work in the states.

Will is a “love-immigrant” more than an economic one. Although he works hard, he did not come here seeking a better life for himself. He came to build a life together with Meredith and their (now) two children. He’s found English a challenging language to learn, so while his basic proficiency has steadily grown, until recently he hasn’t felt ready to attempt the U.S. citizenship exam. In fact, he spent months trying to build his confidence, weeks studying, and more than a handful of sleepless nights awaiting test day.

Test day came on November 29, and that morning Margaret and I drove over to the USCIS (U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services) office in downtown Minneapolis simply to be with Will and Meredith while he waited to be called back for the exam. But when we arrived—a few minutes before his scheduled appointment—he’d already been called back early and given the exam. In fact, as soon as we cleared security and approached them in the waiting area, the smile beneath Will’s glistening cheeks announced his success on the exam even before we were close enough to exchange warm hugs. Now, Will is stoic by almost every measure. I found myself deeply moved by his emotions.

Afterwards the four of us went across the street for coffee. I’m not sure which was greater, Will’s sheer relief or his unbound joy. Both were everywhere: in his nonstop smile, his multiple headshakes, his hugs, his repeated exclamations of “Wow,” and his tears. So, I knew his Naturalization Ceremony (when he’d formally be sworn in as a U.S. citizen) would be another momentous occasion—this one, thankfully, without any anxiety. And momentous it was. (Although my tears during the evening phone call to my dad came from a different place, as I’ll explain.)

That Monday morning, at the Heritage Center, while Will sat in the front section of a large ballroom, we joined Meredith and their two children, John (10) and Benjamin (7½), in an area reserved for family and friends of new citizens. The boys understood this was a huge occasion for their dad, but for them it mostly sparked mild curiosity and polite indifference. Kids.

For the rest of us—that is, Meredith, Margaret, me and the several hundred other family and friends of those seated up front—it was a civics lesson of the highest order. Before the formal ceremony began, we listened as the about-to-be-citizens received instructions on how to complete their applications for new Social Security cards after the ceremony, as well as encouragement to fill out their voter registration form right there at the Heritage Center, and where to get information about applying for a passport. Then, as a sort of warm-up to the ceremony, we watched a video montage of immigrant faces from across the years and around the globe and featuring the famous line from Emma Lazarus’ poem for the Statue of Liberty: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free …” From my great-great grandparents, immigrants from Germany in the 1800’s, right up to Will in 2023, the fabric of our country has been woven from the threads of immigrant lives.

On this particular day 400 immigrants from 72 different countries added their threads to our weaving. After standing and singing the national anthem—itself a very moving experience in this setting—the ceremony began. A representative from USCIS came forward and, after declaring that these persons had met the requirements for citizenship, he made a formal motion to receive them as citizens. Once the motion was accepted, a judge administered the citizenship oath. Really, this 140-word oath is an act of alchemy. These persons repeated the oath phrase by phrase in unison while standing, and with their hands held up in pledge: a chorus of 400 voices who began speaking as individuals from around the globe and became—with their final words—something more: citizens of the United States of America.

After the oath the judge offered some extended words of reflection on the challenge of America. Describing our country as a work in progress, he invited these new citizens to join the rest of us in pursuing together the aspiration of America. He admitted that citizenship comes easily (instantly) to many in America, while for others (and certainly for some of the 400 seated before him), it comes as the culmination of sometimes perilous journeys, confusing processes, and years of effort. But now, he explained, after the culmination, the real work begins.

He told them, with obvious passion in his voice, that today they have taken their place within those sacred “fifteen words” that form the Preamble to the Constitution: “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union …” And now, as part of “We the People,” it falls to them to help shape a society where the ballot is more trusted than the bullet; where laws govern, rather than where dictators rule; where taxes serve the greater good and promote the common welfare; where differing views can be heard with respect; and where the inclusion of others is known as the unfolding vocation—and the undoubted strength—of the nation.

Altogether stronger words than I expected to hear, I confess. Far from a mere formality, the ceremony and the judge’s commission, really evoked the America that could be. A nation worthy of our pledged allegiance not because it offers liberty and justice for all, but so that it might. Unfinished work.

Now, for my unexpected tears. As I recounted the morning’s ceremony to my dad, I found myself weeping less for the beauty of the moment—though it was undeniably beautiful—than for my grief at the political calamity playing out in our nation today. Or perhaps it was the stark counterpoint between the beauty of the ceremony and the judge’s message … and the horror of a former president whose venomous words not only undercut the ideals of our nation but take aim at the very practice of our democracy.

And yet he continues to be far and away the leading GOP candidate for the presidency. Do you listen to what the man says?! He regularly—habitually!—dehumanizes anyone he deems “other.” Immigrants are “poisoning our blood”; leftists (like me!) are “vermin”—and both phrases are drawn directly from Nazi Germany, where they were employed (successfully!) to normalize murderous violence against those deemed undesirable by Hitler and the Nazis. Within the Republican Party almost no one dares to challenge Trump’s hate-mongering, let alone name it as fascist. And yet it is.

In truth, there have always been multiple Americas: a country contested among its leaders and by its citizens from the start. One America has soaring rhetoric of equality and liberty and justice—though beneath these lofty phrases, the attitudes and structures of power worked almost effortlessly to reserve the ideals foremost for those who are wealthy or at least white. Such was the America of our founding fathers. Another America includes those persons restless to extend the ideals of the nation to all its citizens—indeed, to hold these values as due toward all persons regardless of their citizenship. This America recognizes that if equality, liberty, and justice are true civic goods, then denying them even to those who are “other,” lessens their goodness also for us. This is the aspirational America that has never yet been. But the pursuit of this America ennobles those of us who work for it, even as its reality is yet to come.

But there is another America, too. In this America, every ideal is compromised, discarded, or twisted to serve the raw appetite for power of an authoritarian nationalism. In this America civil rights (and human rights) are dispensable. Elections are managed, from limited voting rights to gerrymandered districts to blatantly partisan election oversight—to ensure that the power of a minority can rule (which is no longer governance). In this America, political dissent will be neutralized. In this America, Earth will be exploited as ruthlessly as is technologically possible, because anything less than unfettered growth is failure. This is Trump’s America. As it is the America of those who brought him into power, and those who have chosen to ride his demonic charisma for their own political advantage.

This is, largely, the America of the present Republican party, coalescing around the destructive energy unleashed by Trump. Differing only in the transparency of its rhetoric, this vision of America is driven by the raw grasp for brute power in a country where the writing on the wall is clear. The majority in this divided nation long for some version of that aspirational America praised by the judge in the citizenship ceremony. Indeed, the clear majority in this multi-hued nation, agree that America is best when it is diverse and tolerant, with expansive rights and a core commitment to justice. That’s the writing on the wall.

Which is why the GOP, with Trump’s venomous rhetoric leading the way, has only one path to gain and hold power: fan the public’s fear, dehumanize their opponents, reduce their rights to vote, break the very processes for governing, and create conditions that will allow a minority to rule with authoritarian power over a majority of their fellow citizens, whose humanity will be rendered second class … or worse. Let’s be very clear: that’s what it would mean to “Make America Great Again.” It would mean to make America the worst it has ever been. It would be to UNMAKE the promise of America and to forfeit the great experiment of democracy.

And this MAGA America, far from being some exaggerated nightmare, is a real political possibility. Not least because the Democratic Party has failed to lead with policies that deliver expansive justice or speak in plain language that addresses the real vulnerabilities of citizens. And not least because Joe Biden is unwilling to step aside and let someone with a clearer, more vibrant sense of that aspirational America carry his party’s standard into the next election. But mostly it is because Trump and the Republican Party are actively persuading one set of citizens to so distrust, fear, and loathe their fellow citizens that they would be willing to destroy democracy itself at the Party’s bidding.

This is what drove my tears. That on the very day we celebrated Will adding the thread of his life to our nation, so many in this nation are prepared to embrace (with passion!) a xenophobic nationalist authoritarian fascist future. Alas.

And I suppose this in particular drove my tears: that I know there are those among my own friends and family who will be poised to vote democracy away in 2024. Who will be ready to do whatever they feel is needed to thwart that aspirational America from ever becoming. Who will cheerfully (with happy rage) view people like Will as “poisoning our blood,” people like me as “vermin,” and so many others I love—from LGBTQ persons to BIPOC persons—as less than human. This is pain that is most personal: that among those I love, are those who would betray others I love for the fear and contempt sown by Trump and others on the right. Alas, alas.

My joy at Will’s citizenship is made bittersweet by all this. Democracy is slippery when wet. And from the tears running down my cheeks, it’s apparent that democracy is most slippery right now. Slipping away? Only time will tell. But that it is slippery is beyond debate. It glistens on my cheeks.

* * *