Extract from The Guardian
I’m a little stuck on this phase. ‘Come on, Freeman,’ I say to myself
every morning. ‘President Obama said we should remember that we’re all
on one team’
Still, the fun can’t last for ever because we have important work to do, which in my case means learning to say the words “President Trump” without feeling like my heart is trying to heave itself out of my mouth. There is not enough alcohol in the world for this, so I’m turning to the five stages of grief. Will this help me come to an acceptance of – excuse me while I punch myself in the face – President Trump? Let’s find out.
Denial As much as I keep saying things like, “I cannot believe the man endorsed by the KKK is now president-elect”, the truth is I worked my way through the denial phase pretty damn quick. Certainly more quickly than Trump’s supporters, anyway. Cheerleaders such as Piers Morgan are fond of snorting out condescending claims like, “Oh, he’s a pragmatist! He’ll be very different as president”, unbothered that their best defence of their guy is that he’s a race-baiting liar. Given that Trump’s first moves were to announce he will review Roe v Wade and to appoint white nationalist Steve Bannon as his chief strategist, it will be interesting to see how long Morgan and his craven compadres can stay in this denial stage.
But they’re not the only ones to be stuck here. Anyone who describes Bannon as “controversial” or “a rightwing provocateur” as opposed to “racist” and “an antisemite” is helping to normalise racism. Anyone who says voting for Trump was “a vote against the elites” is even deeper in the denial phase, given that he ran on a platform promising to make life worse for minorities and women. And for all those on the left who think they maintained the moral high ground by not supporting Hillary Clinton, I hope you have a bomb shelter up there for when Trump rips up the Paris agreement, guys.
Anger If you hadn’t guessed, I’m a little stuck on this phase. “Come on, Freeman,” I say to myself every morning. “President Obama said we should remember that we’re all on one team. Clinton said in her concession speech that, ‘We owe [Trump] an open mind and a chance to lead.’ So get a grip. And stop ranting to yourself, you’re getting weird looks.” “Look,” I shout at myself, while everyone in the vicinity crosses to the other side of the street, “I know Clinton and Obama are trying to save America from disappearing up its arsehole in rage, but no. I am not on the same team as a man who banged on about Obama’s birth certificate because he couldn’t seem to believe black people are Americans. Racism and climate change denialism won. I should be angry. And so should you.” “I am.” “OK, good.”
Bargaining “Donald – a quiet word. We both know you never wanted this. Sure, you wanted to win – but govern? No. You’ve asked if you can stay in Trump Tower, like an eight-year-old scared of sleepovers. Obama is having to set aside extra time to teach you how to be president. You just wanted popularity, not responsibility. I get it. So how about we all pretend this never happened and you just go away, OK? Donald? Donald?”
Depression I think I got this one nailed. A feminist candidate was defeated by a reality TV puppet who retweets antisemitic memes: my heart genuinely feels broken. But mainly, I’m just furious. Try harder, Freeman! Be depressed, then you’ll be on the road to acceptance… Nope, still angry.
Acceptance Unlike Trump, I can accept when my chosen candidate doesn’t win. Also unlike him, I know that anger should be productive, not toxic, and that there is a difference between accepting the legitimacy of office and acquiescing to a candidate. So I’m upping my annual donations to Planned Parenthood, ProPublica and the Natural Resources Defense Council and joining the ACLU. Those are positives, right? Hey, maybe I’ve reached a state of acceptance about Trump’s presidency. And yet this acceptance feels a lot less zen and a lot more rage-filled than I expected. Dammit!
Denial As much as I keep saying things like, “I cannot believe the man endorsed by the KKK is now president-elect”, the truth is I worked my way through the denial phase pretty damn quick. Certainly more quickly than Trump’s supporters, anyway. Cheerleaders such as Piers Morgan are fond of snorting out condescending claims like, “Oh, he’s a pragmatist! He’ll be very different as president”, unbothered that their best defence of their guy is that he’s a race-baiting liar. Given that Trump’s first moves were to announce he will review Roe v Wade and to appoint white nationalist Steve Bannon as his chief strategist, it will be interesting to see how long Morgan and his craven compadres can stay in this denial stage.
But they’re not the only ones to be stuck here. Anyone who describes Bannon as “controversial” or “a rightwing provocateur” as opposed to “racist” and “an antisemite” is helping to normalise racism. Anyone who says voting for Trump was “a vote against the elites” is even deeper in the denial phase, given that he ran on a platform promising to make life worse for minorities and women. And for all those on the left who think they maintained the moral high ground by not supporting Hillary Clinton, I hope you have a bomb shelter up there for when Trump rips up the Paris agreement, guys.
Anger If you hadn’t guessed, I’m a little stuck on this phase. “Come on, Freeman,” I say to myself every morning. “President Obama said we should remember that we’re all on one team. Clinton said in her concession speech that, ‘We owe [Trump] an open mind and a chance to lead.’ So get a grip. And stop ranting to yourself, you’re getting weird looks.” “Look,” I shout at myself, while everyone in the vicinity crosses to the other side of the street, “I know Clinton and Obama are trying to save America from disappearing up its arsehole in rage, but no. I am not on the same team as a man who banged on about Obama’s birth certificate because he couldn’t seem to believe black people are Americans. Racism and climate change denialism won. I should be angry. And so should you.” “I am.” “OK, good.”
Bargaining “Donald – a quiet word. We both know you never wanted this. Sure, you wanted to win – but govern? No. You’ve asked if you can stay in Trump Tower, like an eight-year-old scared of sleepovers. Obama is having to set aside extra time to teach you how to be president. You just wanted popularity, not responsibility. I get it. So how about we all pretend this never happened and you just go away, OK? Donald? Donald?”
Depression I think I got this one nailed. A feminist candidate was defeated by a reality TV puppet who retweets antisemitic memes: my heart genuinely feels broken. But mainly, I’m just furious. Try harder, Freeman! Be depressed, then you’ll be on the road to acceptance… Nope, still angry.
Acceptance Unlike Trump, I can accept when my chosen candidate doesn’t win. Also unlike him, I know that anger should be productive, not toxic, and that there is a difference between accepting the legitimacy of office and acquiescing to a candidate. So I’m upping my annual donations to Planned Parenthood, ProPublica and the Natural Resources Defense Council and joining the ACLU. Those are positives, right? Hey, maybe I’ve reached a state of acceptance about Trump’s presidency. And yet this acceptance feels a lot less zen and a lot more rage-filled than I expected. Dammit!
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