FrankenTrump

“I beheld the wretch — the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks.” – Mary Shelley

Today’s Republican party has created what you might call the abominable candidate, Donald Trump.  In the tradition of Mary Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein, this primary frontrunner is a conglomerate of the worst possible parts of a person – racism, xenophobia, willful ignorance, entitlement, and bravado all wrapped up in one very ugly bully.

Boris Karloff in the 1935 film The Bride of Frankenstein, directed by James Whale.
Image from Mother Jones
As horrible as Trump is, he is the fitting harvest of all the acrid seeds sown by the most cynical and opportunistic people in the GOP in the last 50 years or so. Trump was sown by Pat Buchanan, Richard Nixon, Lee Atwater, and Ronald Reagan in their not-so-subtle race baiting that was so genteelly nicknamed the “Southern Strategy.” This strategy helped gradually convert the south to a Republican stronghold, primarily by appealing to deeply held prejudices among voters there through the use of coded language.  If you think that strategy is dead, then ask yourself why Trump had such a hard time rejecting the support of David Duke and the Ku Klux Klan in the days leading up to Super Tuesday when several southern states were about to vote.

 

frankentrump
Image from The Denver Post
Trump was sown by the Tea Party whose incendiary rhetoric has led to moments like the one where Congressman Joe Wilson, with a stunning lack of decorum, yelled “Liar!” at the President during his State of the Union address.  From the Republicans in Congress, President Obama has faced blatant racism throughout his tenure.  They questioned his legitimacy because of his foreign-sounding name and the fact that he was born in Hawaii.  Yet somehow the party faithful can pretend not to know (or care) that one of the Republicans running now to succeed Obama, Ted Cruz, was actually not born in America, but in Canada.  Where are those “birthers” now? The behavior of these GOP leaders emboldens the members of the base.  Lack of courtesy, lack of respect, lack of decency abounds.  The loudest mouth wins.  Enter Trump.

 

“For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind” – Hosea 8:7

Trump was sown by the years and years of lip service the GOP gave to the concerns of religious voters.  In his article “Jesus is not a Republican” from The Chronicle of Higher Education (June 2006), Randall Balmer makes the case that Republican politicians have repeatedly disavowed fundamental teachings of Jesus such as helping the poor, the use of torture, and the value of life all while courting religious voters.  The religious political machine has focused more on punishing those who are down on their luck, ridiculing and humiliating them, calling them “moochers” and freeloaders.  The machine has stood by while wars are prosecuted for false reasons and stood behind an administration that believes waterboarding is an ethical interrogation strategy.  Trump has called for a return to the use of torture, even as he has said, “beyond waterboarding,” which is horrible to imagine. That’s not a position consistent with valuing life, and Trump has backpedaled on that position somewhat, but he has also said that we should target the families of our enemies – their wives and children.  That’s something straight out of Macbeth, not the New Testament. We can’t pretend that these are Judaeo Christian values – they just aren’t.  But this is the man who would lead the Republican party.

“When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?” – Mary Shelley

 

lucy-football
Image from Slate.com
The chickens are coming home to roost.  The poor of the country, especially those in the south, are tired of Republican politicians taking their money and their votes and failing to deliver on any of their promises.  The religious right are sick and tired of seeing their social issues used as a political football.  Every four years, like Charlie Brown, they run out onto the pitch where Lucy waits, only to end up flat on their backs.  Good Grief!  Maybe not this year. You can’t blame voters for feeling that enough is enough and looking for an alternative, an outsider, a non-politician.

 

“Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example” – Mary Shelley

So where does this leave moderate Republican voters?  There are many of them who are people of good will who believe in things like small government at the federal level and a greater role for local governments and who have specific ideas about fiscal policy that don’t include destroying the middle class.  There are many moderate Republican voters who do not hate Mexicans and Muslims and who do believe in the American Dream that so many immigrants come here to find.  But this is not their Republican Party – for some time it has been slipping away. For years they have turned a blind eye while the party grew more and more extreme.  If Mitt Romney’s desperate speech doesn’t tell the truth of it, then I don’t know what else does.  It’s all hitting the fan now.  Fox News viewers can hardly stomach it anymore. The former nominee basically begged voters to go out and vote for anyone but Trump, betting on, hoping for a brokered convention where the delegates can rally together and choose someone more palatable. In doing so, the party will basically slap the face of their own voters, saying, in effect, thanks for voting – that’s cute, but we’ve got this from here. As I wrote a few months ago, this is a crossroads for the GOP as we know it.  Will they be defined by their new standard-bearer, Trump?  Or will they have the courage to watch the thing they gave their lives to, broken, and find a way to build it new? In a surreal moment at the end of the Republican debate in Detroit, after spending 2 hours slamming Trump and declaring him unfit and unqualified to be president, we watched as these same men, Cruz, Rubio, and Kasich, all pledged to rally behind and support the eventual Republican nominee, even if that is Trump.  If that is true, they have no one to blame but themselves.

© Ryna May 2016

Commencement

Dear Reader,

I am a teacher, and for me and teachers everywhere, this time of year is a time of many emotions.  I am always excited that the semester is ending and that the glorious expanse of summer is just ahead.  At the same time, it is always just a little bittersweet because, since I think of my life in academic terms, it marks the passing of another year.

Commencement is the term we use for graduation ceremonies.  It’s funny because the denotation of the word is “the beginning or start” of something, but we assign the term to the pomp and circumstance that concludes an educational experience.  But I like that the word is forward-looking: it implies that we are ready to begin the next new, exciting chapters of our lives.

I have commenced 4 times in my life: in 1991 from high school, in 1999 from Howard Community College, in 2001 from the University of Baltimore, and in 2003 from the University of Maryland.  I have one more commencement in my future. God willing, that will be 2016 from Morgan State University with my doctorate, and then I will be able to retire from being a student.

My road to and through college was not a straight one.  I went to a private, religious high school that graduated boys who were encouraged to be preachers and girls who were encouraged to be housewives and Sunday school teachers.  My high school coaxed students to consider colleges that prepared young people to be in church-oriented professions: places like Bob Jones University or Pensacola Christian College.  If you can believe it, Dear Reader, Liberty University was considered too liberal – we were not supposed to consider that as an option.  So of course, that is where we all wanted to go!  Show us that forbidden fruit!

I have wonderful memories of high school.  I don’t want to brag or anything, but I will: I won an award for “Christian Character,” I lettered in 3 sports (volleyball, basketball, and softball), was a team captain in 3 sports, was a league all-star and MVP in 3 sports, was named a US Army Scholar Athlete my senior year, worked on the yearbook, was the president of my senior class, and earned the title of valedictorian.  I gave a speech at my graduation.  I was also voted homecoming queen.  (Those of you who know me well will appreciate how little I cared about that last thing, but it happened.)  High school was a blur of fun things, and even though I was considering college, as a first-generation college student, it was not my main focus or goal but an option.  I grew up in a blue-collar family, so I felt no pressure to go off to college.

When I graduated from high school, I had a partial scholarship to attend Liberty University (of course I applied there!).  I was also considering the “family business”: I grew up in a Navy family and was weighing whether to join the Army or the Navy.  I also knew my step-father was about to be reassigned from Andrews Air Force Base to a new duty station and was considering just moving out and starting my own life, putting down roots here in Maryland – as a Navy brat who had moved all over the place her whole life, this was pretty appealing.  Ultimately, I decided to move out on my own and take a few classes at community college.  Then, as Frost said, way led on to way, and after a few semesters I ended up putting off college while I worked in the “real world.”

I loved being on my own, but not long after I moved out into my own apartment, I got married, and after that as a partner in a marriage determined to pull her own weight, I worked as a puppet, a pirate, a poet, a pauper, a pawn and a king. Well, almost: I worked at Carvel making ice cream cakes, at a pharmacy as a technician, as a softball and basketball coach, as a bartender, as a vice principal at a private school, and as a Special Police Officer for the Federal Protective Service.  It is in this job that life took a dramatic turn.

Many of you will recall the bombing of the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City that occurred in April 1995.  American “Patriot” Timothy McVeigh parked a Ryder truck full of explosives in front of this federal office building that he then detonated, killing 168 people and injuring nearly 700 others.  I mention this event because at the time, I was working for the FPS in Crystal City, Virginia.  My duty station was a federal building.  My beat took me between the Crystal City complex, the Navy Annex, and the Pentagon. I was on that same beat two years later: April 19, 1997.  We were all on high alert that day because it was the anniversary of the bombing, and that is when people get a little squirrelly.  We got a call that a “suspicious object” was left unattended in the stairwell at one of the Crystal City buildings.  This was not a drill.

There are a lot of things about that day that I don’t remember, but a few things will never fade.  The first thing I remembered was my training: we had to evacuate the building to make sure all of the workers were safe, but then it was my job to run into the building.  It was my job to run back into the building.  I was the valedictorian of my class, and my job was to run into the building to look for the potential bomb.  I also remembered a conversation I had with my mom just a few days before that.  She told me that she was going to start taking college classes.  Because my mom chose to have a family at a young age, she had to earn her GED and now, years later, she was going to start pursuing her college education.  It struck me that I had no excuse.  I had been given every advantage my parents could give me, and I never cashed those things in.  I needed to have a path or plan for the future that led me out of the fire, not into it.  (I should say now that I have tremendous respect for first responders – that job is not for punks – that is hard, dangerous, and honorable work.  I am not worthy.)

Gatsby
The Great Gatsby: the book that unlocked my curiosity

The “suspicious object” was found by someone else and was not a threat, but a prank.  But it was a metaphorical bomb to me because it blew UP my life.  I had to admit that this was not how I imagined things for myself.  The next day as I was coming home from work, I took a detour.  In a trance, I drove to the bookstore where I wandered into the section called “Classics.”  At my conservative high school, we weren’t given the opportunity to read a lot of literature.  We read some Romantic poets (Wordsworth), Animal Farm (to remind us how great America is), and Romeo and Juliet (as a cautionary tale: don’t think you can defy your parents).  I was starved for literature.  I wanted to see the world through new eyes.  I stood in front of that shelf of mysterious books, and my eyes fell on The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I had heard of that book, so I bought it and read it.  I didn’t get it.  But I knew that there was something there, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the “green light” and other things in the book.  It made me curious to read more.  I bought another book after that: To Kill a Mockingbird.  And then I read Catcher in the Rye.  And then, before I knew it, it was August, and I was enrolling in classes at Howard Community College.

The two years I spent at Howard Community College changed my life definitively.  I came there lost and not knowing quite what I sought.  I picked a major (Psychology) out of thin air and, because of an amazing teacher, found my true calling.  I ended up in her Introduction to Literature class by divine accident (I thought I needed a requirement that I did not need), but that literature class made me want to take another literature class.  And another….  After I wrote a paper for one of those classes, the teacher, who was the same amazing teacher from my other classes, wrote a question on my essay: “Why aren’t you an English major?????”  I could not answer that.  This teacher got me to consider the thing that no one else had: what is it that I love?  I switched my major. I went on to finish my undergraduate degree and earn my master’s degree in English Literature.  I said yes to some unbelievably lucky opportunities that allowed me to start teaching, and ultimately, I was lucky enough to find a way to make what I love what I do for a living. In Taoist philosophy, it is believed that the “way” becomes clear for an individual when the individual surrenders to what is. The way is at once the beginning of all things and the way in which all things pursue their course.  The way is commencement.  It is not lost on me that I am able to pay that forward.  A teacher changed my life by helping me give in to what I loved.  Maybe I will inspire some student somewhere to change hers.  And so on, and so on…  I try to ask my students every semester: What is it that you love? What is it that you want?  I ask them to understand that life is long and that work is part of our identity: it should be more than just earning a salary.  Maybe, for some student, that will inspire them to consider their passion and not just a paycheck.

At Commencement, 1999, with the teacher who changed my life
At Commencement, 1999, with the teacher who changed my life

Commencement: the day in 1999 when I graduated from HCC.  I felt a renewed idea of my purpose for my life.  I felt, for the first time in a long time, like I was going to be able to shape my destiny instead of just stumble onto it.  Commencement: I am drawn, every summer, back to The Great Gatsby.  I have read that book at the beginning of every summer since 1997.  I understand why Gatsby wanted to reinvent himself.  I understand his desire to be the author of his own story.  I didn’t understand it when I first read it, but it profoundly speaks to me now, and now each time I read it, it resonates more and more. Gatsby helped me get started on a new path, and now, it is the way I commence, in gratitude, welcoming each new year.

Do you have a book that saved your life?

Coming next month on Friday Nite Writes: This I Believe 

© 2015 Ryna May