In just a short week, I’ve noticed many people — including myself — “zoned out,” clearly distracted, grumpy and not very conversational. For what reason? For one thing, Hillary lost the election, preventing the United States from inaugurating its first woman president.
The flip side of that statement is that Donald Trump won. That brings up the questions — I won’t attempt answers here — as to how and why it happened.
The scene last Tuesday night and Wednesday morning was like a dream whose ending I’d hoped I could change. The early results showed Trump with an impressive lead, one of those I naively believed would change once the west-coast checked in. As I tuned in to various networks, I kept expecting to see a shift in momentum that never came.
By around 3 a.m., many millions of Americans turned off the tube and accepted the reality of an honest-to-goodness President Donald Trump.
I then checked Facebook comments and caught a post from my son, Stanley Adam, who just recently celebrated his 10th wedding anniversary. He married a Dane in Copenhagen and they have two young daughters.
Because of the ocean and many miles that separate us from our grandchildren, it’s impossible to have very many personal visits. We can see the family’s faces through the miracle of Skype, but that’s not the same as seeing them in person.
It saddened me to discover from my son that his older daughter, Ellen, only 7, became fearful as a result of the U.S. election, some 9 to 13 time zones away. Adam writes about his wife, Lisbeth’s attempts to comfort their daughter.
A huge metropolitan city, Copenhagen has many thousands of immigrants who have come across Danish borders in search of a better life.
“Will Ellen,” my son asks, “live in fear, along with the many Muslim children who attend public schools with her?”
In his letter, my son expresses it much better than I can:
“I found Lisbeth and Ellen in the kitchen today hugging each other and crying. Ellen said that at school she heard there was a new president who wanted to send all Muslims away and was upset because ‘Some of my best friends are Muslims.’ I hate that she has to be even remotely aware of that kind of thinking, much less be afraid for her friends.”
Here in Las Vegas, we know the experience, as we’re aware that some children with Hispanic names also fear being deported to Mexico. These children are descended from those who were here when the U.S. took over.
We, the people of the U.S., have elected a man who has been endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan. Preachers thunder from the pulpit for solidarity and unity in our communities because they sense a growing divide emphasized by the hateful, bullying language heard and read during the campaign.
Even though I cite a single case concerning people who are related by blood and therefore dear to me, I believe we all might wonder how many like-minded parents are wrapping their arms around their trembling children, trying to assure them the sun will in fact come out tomorrow.
Will our president-elect keep his promise to ship back people who were born in other countries and now have families and jobs? And pay taxes?
The Donald, who appeared on Sunday’s 60 Minutes, soft-pedaled many of his responses to TV hostess Leslie Stahl, a far cry from the harshness of his campaign speeches. Yet, he has repeated his plan to order the construction of the wall (or at least a big fence) between the U.S. and Mexico.
The disputes concerning the election seem to have made the spewing of vitriol a national pastime. Notice how many protests have erupted in our cities. Notice how the otherwise civil exchanges on Facebook now are laced with profanity, the f-word, and threats of violence.
Let’s not ignore the hateful words of a West Virginia woman, who on Facebook referred to First Lady Michelle Obama as an “ape in heels.”
A bitter campaign such as this one appears to give license to hating and using vitriol against anyone of a different race, ethnicity or religion.
Fear-mongering isn’t the specialty du jour only of the U.S. Consider how people in other lands are affected by our election.
The future of God’s creation somehow doesn’t seem very sanguine in light of the diametrically opposed views people have on issues like Citizens United and Roe v. Wade or LGBT. Or immigration.
Back to a more personal note: I wish I could be with my granddaughters, Ellen and June, to hug them, hold them tight and try to assure them that things will work out. Such communication is crucial. Why do the children — of any race, creed or nationality — need to live in fear of being separated from those they love?
I picture Ellen on the playground of her primary school, frolicking with kids of all backgrounds and enjoying life — as they should.
My son sees the contradiction: He wonders “why children need to be exposed to the hypocrisy of telling a group they don’t belong and at the same time complaining that they fail to integrate.”
Adam also wrote, “A few weeks ago Ellen told me that some older boys at school told her that they’d seen her dad picking her up, and didn’t she know that people with black hair are terrorists?”
I write this column, with Ellen and June as the central characters, because as their grandfather, I can identify with the doubt, uncertainly and fear they must be undergoing as they interact with others, and at their school, which contains about 10 percent Muslim enrollment.
I pray that many others share my feelings.
You see, little ones also matter.