My children have never consciously known a U.S. presidential election, or administration, that didn’t have the undertone, or reality, of violence, and I would venture to say that statement is true for most of the people reading this. My children are eight and 13. My younger child only has some memories of January 6, 2021, but it is burned into the brain of my 13-year-old.
We live in Washington, DC, about a 20-minute walk from the Capitol. We have seen firsthand the realities of what the first Trump administration wrought on our nation’s capital; the fencing, the tanks and soldiers stationed around the areas that we drive in, and the physical destruction. We watched in horror as peaceful Black Lives Matter protesters had tear gas thrown on them so Trump could come out and hold up an upside down Bible for TV cameras.
My children have never known a time when a candidate for president wasn’t publicly making veiled threats and inciting his followers to commit violence against those who disagree with him. They’ve never known a time when our Congress did anything that was for the good of our country, putting country over party. They’ve never known a time when they didn’t have lockdown drills or evacuation drills. They’ve never not had to worry about what might happen during a presidential inauguration weekend or day.
They’ve never known a time when our government wasn’t on the brink of a shutdown because Congress can’t or won’t pass a budget, putting thousands of people’s livelihoods at risk.
As we roll into this inauguration weekend, with calendar having the audacity to make Trump’s inauguration on the same day as Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I feel nothing but sadness and trepidation. Our nation’s capital is, once again, braced for potential violence. Barrier fencing is in place around the Capitol. Building and businesses in the area have their windows boarded up. The stinking morass of arrogance and bitter hatefulness is threatening to consume us all while a few obscenely wealthy men dance gleefully like Nero playing the fiddle with Rome burning around him.*
What does it say about our political reality that these are the issues that bubble up? Can we ever return to a more civilized, sober discussion of the issues, or has our technology-prompted limited attention span that only feeds us what the algorithm assesses we want to hear forever ruined that discourse?
We cannot, we will not, let the actions of a few dictate what the many do and want. We must not let their bitterness make us hard. We must continue to fight the good fight, to be good and decent people, and to fight for a government that actually listens to, and takes actions, that care for country and the world.
In the immortal words of King Henry in Shakespeare’s Henry V, “Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more.”
*Yes, I know the story of Nero fiddling while Rome burned is just a legend.
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