‘My son wants to know why you voted for Trump’ (Christmas, 2016)
I’m sitting with my parents and two of their friends in a Chicago bar. It’s Chistmas Eve, 2016.
‘So Glen,’ my mother says turning to one of their friends, ‘Michael wants to know why you voted for Trump.’
Let’s pause for a moment to acknowledge that I didn’t want that. In fact, when my mother had shared that one of our drinking companions had voted for Trump, I’d explicitly asked that we not talk about it.
My mother has an interesting idea of fun.
Glen turns towards me. ‘Oh, do you?’
He’s a mild-mannered guy with grey hair and glasses. A business owner from Texas who retired to Chicago with his wife.
I sigh. ‘Well, since it’s been brought up, sure. I’d be curious.’
Over the next twenty minutes, we talk about the election and his choice.
He shares that, as a business owner, he resonates with Trump’s business experience. I ask if, as a business owner, he would hire an executive with a track record like Trump’s to oversee his company. He says no.
He shares that he believes in Trump’s ability to navigate foreign policy more effectively than Hillary Clinton. I ask if he would hire someone with no experience and a documented history of questionable relationships with foreign leaders over someone with a long history of experience in foreign relations including serving as Secretary of State.
He looks confused for a moment before sharing that, well, Hillary is crooked. A criminal.
‘What has she done that’s worse than any other politician? Or a billionaire who has a documented record of crooked business dealings and stiffing contractors?’
He pauses for less than a beat.
‘I just don’t like her, ok. She’s a bitch.’
The table goes silent. Even my mother who has been watching with barely contained glee looks uncomfortable.
‘Well there it is,’ I say. ‘That feels true. If you voted for Trump because you dislike Clinton on principle or because you see her as a ‘bitch,’ then that’s a choice. But don’t pretend like it was a logical decision. And I don’t think you’re alone.’
I look at my mother pointedly in a ‘are you not entertained’ way.
We drink.
