“I just don’t understand: Why do you feel the need to post about politics?”
It was a sincere question, voiced without malice or contempt. And I understood that coming from a person who cares about me, it was rooted in concern. Underneath the words, I heard: “I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to write something that will paint a target on your back. Remember last time the alt-right came after you?” I also heard: “Sometimes the things you say or post unsettle me. They make me worry, and I’d rather keep pretending that everything is fine.”
I’m grateful that people care, and I get it—I, too, wish we could just chitchat about books and gardening and happy things. But here’s the truth: can’t stop, won’t stop. Because each passing day only ushers in more insanity, and whether we like it or not, silence is never neutral. It’s complicit. It’s tacit support for *gestures around wildly* all this, and frankly, it’s often the things we don’t say that mean the very most.
I have a confession: it’s easier for me to write about this stuff than it is to sit knee-to-knee with a friend and have an honest conversation. Palms sweaty, knees weak, heart pounding out of my chest… I can do it (and I have done it), but it’s really, really hard. And yet, I honestly believe that the best (maybe only?) way to change someone’s mind is through relationship. We are transformed in the crucible of time and true connection, and no matter how pretty I can write, my words in a vacuum—devoid of personal attachment, of the intermingling of our stories—are unlikely to have a significant impact on anyone.
Cold, hard facts don’t soften hearts. People do.
In this liminal space, where I’m still working up the courage to have some very difficult conversations with people I love, I’m going to practice. I hope you’ll give me the grace to fumble and get it wrong, and I hope that this is a launchpad for you, too. May we be, in the words of Etty Hillesum (a Dutch Jew and Holocaust victim), “the thinking hearts” of our generation. Steeped in both love and light, compassion and right.
To my MAGA friend,
You recently raved: “This is exactly what I voted for! Trump is a bull in a china shop.” A bull in a china shop indeed. It’s a fun metaphor, and one that I think we often imbue with an almost cutesy vibe. Perhaps we picture an impish animal, a lá Ferdinand, tiptoeing on pointed hooves and catching a wayward teacup by its delicate handle just before it crashes to the floor. A fairytale of adorable destruction set right with a smirk and a broom. Instead, let’s imagine a real bull in a real china shop. The blind, soulless rampage of a huge, aggressive monster in a room filled with one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable, and exquisitely valuable handmade works of art. Imagine the aftermath. An entire world razed. Porcelain dust and ruined shelving. Gouged floors, windows smashed, nothing left.
I agree: our government needs oversight. There are things that can and should be changed. Waste and fraud is undoubtedly a problem. But rather than destroying every good thing we’ve built, rather than unleashing a seemingly insentient animal to wreak havoc, I believe we would be better served by employing a shrewd curator.
It’s time to leave the metaphor behind. Let me clearly say: I hate what Trump is doing and I fear how it will affect our country and our world. I know that delights you. That you will proclaim me a snowflake and pretend to drink my tears, probably call me names and condemn me to hell. That doesn’t make me angry, it makes me unimaginably sad.
I know you.
You are my neighbor, former coworker, and the family member I rarely see. You love the Lord, delight in your children and grandchildren, and do good in the world. It’s hard for me to square the joy you felt as USAID was dismantled with the person I know you to be. And it’s hard for me to understand that when presented with cold, hard reality (An estimated 1,650,000 people could die within a year without American foreign aid for H.I.V. prevention and treatment. - New York Times), you will dissemble, tell me that I can’t trust the corrupt mainstream media or that Nicholas Kristof (who has reported on foreign issues for literal decades and spent huge swaths of time with underprivileged people the world over) is a liar.
I wish we could have a real conversation. I don’t think we can. But that doesn’t mean I hate you. I fear that your inability to concede that maybe not every single thing Trump does is anointed by God will, in time, cause you just as much pain as he is causing the rest of the world. For that, and for you, I grieve.
To my MAGA friend who is having doubts,
Thank you for your open mind. For understanding that although we can quote Romans 13:1 (“Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God.”), the Bible also contains Hosea 8:4 (“They set up kings without my consent; they choose princes without my approval. With their silver and gold they make idols for themselves to their own destruction.” emphasis mine)
Maybe you have Canadian family or friends and you are conflicted because you see how deeply hurt and angry we are. Maybe you helped resettle a Ukrainian refugee family and you are witnessing their very real fear and uncertainty about the future. Maybe you saw the Trump Gaza video and were horrified at the literal golden calf that he made of himself. Whatever it was that stirred your conscience, I invite you to dig in. Educate yourself and learn more about what is actually happening.
You may have been told that the mainstream media is corrupt. Ok. Seek outside sources. Question the belief that there is a giant, interconnected cabal of journalists all across the globe who have Trump Derangement Syndrome. Consider that not everything is a conspiracy theory, and that perhaps the media you have been consuming is biased. Turn instead to Canadian journalism (here’s a helpful media bias chart for Canadian news sources), or the AP (an independent, global news organization) or Reuters. Better yet, turn on the C-SPAN livestream or find uncut YouTube videos and see for yourself. Watch Trump and actually listen to what he says. He’s not some spin-master or “ten steps ahead of everyone.” He’s cruel and vindictive. And when he’s not lying (and you can fact check him here), he tells us exactly who he is and what he is going to do and then he does it. Often with ruthless inhumanity and an utter disregard for everyone and everything that doesn’t align with his (usually capricious) whims.
We don’t have to agree about everything, and you may still be in favor of some (many?) of the things Trump is doing. But your willingness to examine even one destructive executive order is a start. Keep digging. And let me know if you ever want to grab coffee. No name calling or raised voices, just open hearts and a willingness to listen on both our parts.
To my friend who voted for Trump and regrets it,
Honestly, I could weep because I tried so hard to get through to you. You may not know how deeply impacted my family is by the actions of the Trump administration, but from medical research cuts and library defunding to the threat of annexing Canada and deporting green card holders, there is barely a square inch of our lives that is not affected by these new policies. And it is exponentially worse for our immigrant, LGBTQ+, and federal worker friends (among so many others).
I get it. Maybe you got caught up in “both sides” and whataboutism, or you really did make the decision that you thought would be best for our country. I’m not angry. We are all out here doing the very best that we can—and more often than not, getting it wrong. But if you truly wish you could take back your vote, it’s time to get to work. Hand-wringing and regret gets us nowhere, and perhaps being part of the original problem necessitates being part of the solution. Remember that your voice has the power to unlock another’s voice. And that:
“Good and evil increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of.” C.S. Lewis
Not sure what to do? This might be a place to start: Be Brave and Kind.
To my friend who just “isn’t political,”
Let me hold your hand while I say this: You are now.
If you hope to someday collect social security, if you don’t want international conflict with Greenland or Canada or Panama, if you would like cancer research to continue, if you think that the United States should not cozy up to a dictator, or that we should honor our humanitarian contracts, and that it’s important to protect our national parks, it’s time to get involved. Actually, you’re a bit late to the party, but we’re thrilled that you came. Welcome.
We’re in the midst of a constitutional crisis. Trump has suggested that the law doesn’t apply to him (a quote often attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte and paraphrased by Hitler) and that he is a king. Along with unelected billionaire Elon Musk, Trump has continually defied constitutional law to engage in executive overreach. “They have co-opted Congress’s ‘power of the purse,’ dismantled segments of the federal government without legal authority, and have begun to defy court orders.” (5calls.org) Yesterday, the Trump administration openly ignored a court injunction to stop the deportation of alleged Venezuelan gang members. We are watching, in real time, the breakdown of our democracy.
It sucks, doesn’t it? I wish I could ignore it, too. And yet, every day I see more and more people experiencing the impacts of the recklessness of this administration.
The family member who may lose their farm and livelihood because the USDA canceled the Local Food for School program.
The neighbor whose special needs child will suffer because of cuts to Medicaid.
The beloved schools that fear the impact of budget reductions. “We will lose counselors, social workers, behavior specialists—people who ensure safety and stability for students who need it most.” (Department of Education cuts expected to have ‘huge impact’ on teachers)
The Canadian friends who canceled their summer trip to the US and feel so very betrayed.
The author whose book has been banned.
The list goes on. Endlessly, it seems. And while some of the consequences of these actions won’t be felt for a while, when they hit, it will be devastating for so many. I wish I could convince everyone to pay attention, to take action, to care. I pray that hearts and minds are changing. And that as we link arms, we begin, ever so slowly-but-surely, to turn the tide. Standing with you always.
Thanks for reading. xoxo - Nicole
PS - I will be at the Des Moines Book Festival this Saturday with both the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative and as a member of the Iowa Story Society. I hope to see you there!
I’m a proud member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, a roundup of world-class journalists who call Iowa home. I invite you to check out the group and become a paying member of one or more of our pages.
Thank you, Nicole. You have done a powerful and sensitive analysis of friends and family who are trump voters. I know people in each of those descriptions of his voters. My problem is that I am not sure I could be as open and understanding as you encourage us to be. I will work on it.
Thank you thank you thank you!!!!! Please keep writing. You make me feel like we have a chance against this evil!! ❤️