Life in the United States these days is kind of like being surrounded by carnival fun house mirrors: no matter where you look, you’re sure to see something unnatural, unsettling and ultimately unacceptable.
Look over there, Trump blames a tragic mid-air crash on DEI “diversity” hires before they’ve even pulled all the bodies from the Potomac. Behind you, he withdraws the US from the Paris Climate Agreement and the World Health Organisation, wipes out virtually all of Joe Biden’s anti-climate change initiatives, and freezes almost all foreign aid without warning. Look right – hard right – and see supreme supplicant Ted Cruz questioning New Zealand as a US ally based on a false story about Israelis being forced to detail their military service before getting a visitor visa.
Independent watchdogs, whose job is to root out fraud and corruption, have been fired and everywhere are frighteningly unqualified and dangerous nominees for positions critical to everything from the military to the rule of law.
Aid and health agency staff have received stop-work orders because of Trump’s distaste for helping anyone but himself.
Those disturbing reflections line the walls, but the horrors invade your personal space as well. A friend tells me her efforts to set up informational sessions for immigrant students and their parents at a local high school were about to come to fruition when the principal got a call from higher-ups to shut it down. An item on our neighbourhood email group tells of Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents at a local elementary school. All are horrified until it turns out it may be a hoax.
That’s one of the really fun features of US life these days – it’s virtually impossible to know the relative accuracy of any and all information that’s flung our way from a poisonous “social” media and information ecosystem. The only thing we know for sure is that we’re fast moving backwards as a nation.
I have friends who have retired from career-long government jobs ‒ rather than be shuttled into irrelevant corners ‒ whose critical missions were to fight workplace discrimination, protect the environment, and so on. Others work for NGOs in international aid and public health, where they have already received stop-work orders because of Trump’s distaste for helping anyone but himself.
Individual reactions to this first fiasco of a fortnight vary widely. Some are inclined to shut their eyes, pull the winter covers over their heads and wait until 2028, or at least the 2026 midterms, when hopefully Maga will get massacred by America’s oh-so-capricious electorate.
One friend said she hoped these four years would pass quickly, then remembered how old she was and took it back. Others react by redoubling their resistance, and sadly find no shortage of causes that need their support – financial and foot-soldier – more than ever. Hopefully, we bring no judgment to any individual’s method of coping, as despair is such a rational and understandable option.
As for me, a white cis male Trump isn’t remotely coming after, I’ve decided on a cocktail of reduced exposure to for-profit news sources, donations of my time and treasure to those dedicated to doing good for those who need it most, and looking for light wherever I can find it. Last week, it was there in the playful humour of a waiter at a local taco restaurant, the delight of meeting an old friend’s new grandson and, most surprising of all, a soul-satisfying two-hour wait at a tyre repair shop with the vibe of a neighbourhood party.
The harsh reality is we’re now living in a tinderbox, and we’ve given an ass-brained arsonist a tank of gas and a lighter. He has in turn freed 1500 of his favourite domestic terrorists and handed them blowtorches on their way out of jail, and they all seem to want to immolate any and all progress made over the past 60 years.
In just a few weeks, Trump and his minions have warped our national reflection to the point where many of us don’t recognise this country any more. It will take time, patience and unprecedented diligence to ensure that America’s light comes from a beacon and not a bonfire.
