I guess I would say that I'm just not "a crier." Tears don't come very often. I'm generally even-tempered. But today, when I saw that terrifying Trump rally, with throngs of white people chanting, "Send her back" alongside the continuing stories of once hopeful (or desperate) immigrants in cages... the tears are here. Worse, I feel like I've been punched in the gut.
Physically, I'm just short of albino when it comes to being white (thanks to advanced vitiligo -- google it if you haven't heard of it). For the first time, I'm uncomfortable with my skin color because it matches the Trump supporters.
The other thing that bothers me is that I know that most of them are not evil, and in fact simply oblivious that they are walking an evil path. I don't understand how they don't see the connection between their attitudes and the many instances of mob rule, group thought, and rising hatred. History is repeating itself. They don't see it. Why can't they see it?
Some of these people are my relatives. And I don't know what to do. I am a person who wants to write my little screenplays and novels and hope that it might contribute to the opening of people's minds. I am not a protester, picketer, or (God forbid) politician. I sense that any statement I make with the slightest touch of anger or resentment will do nothing but put another brick in the wall between us.
The chants of "go back home" makes me want to go back home (I have a few choices - I think I'll pick Ireland or England over Russia -- that right there, in and of itself shows how easy I have it. I have the power to make a decision. How many refugees and people fleeing violence could casually consider three countries?).
I am always aware -- just under the surface -- that I am living on stolen land.