Recently, I went to the No Kings 2 protest, and someone asked me “How did you become liberal if you grew up in a red state?” I reflect on my response now and think, “N.K., this is why you don’t get interviewed.” My response was somewhat confused and lackluster, “I don’t know; I was taught to be kind to people?” and then I rambled a little about the various book series and stories I grew up with (painfully including Harry Potter, but hey, it’s not my fault the main message of the story doesn’t align with the current behavior of its author).
Gah, I wish I’d been more eloquent and prepared.
First, I hate the idea of political labels. I typically cringe away from being called anything with a clear side, because I was barely old enough to vote in 2016 and before Trump, I literally didn’t care. My philosophy was “I think the candidates are probably mostly similar and will achieve equal, but different good things either way, so whatever.”
That was before Trump stirred up rhetoric that made everyone cruel and hate each other. However, even then I went out of my way to avoid any rhetoric that said “all conservatives/republicans are evil” because I believed in the individuality of each person and hated generalizations. The first election of Trump was my first moment of dissociation. I know what a paradigm shift feels like, because I had one that night. I had so much faith that people were generally good…until then.
I remember watching a video about Trump mocking a disabled person, and not in a friendly way (if there could even be one). That was the first time I ever intentionally, willingly, and knowingly used a swear word. I thought, there’s no way the majority of Americans would actually vote for someone so callous and vain. He’d be the figurehead of America, the way the world thinks we act, and the “city on a hill” for many of us to model our behavior after. I thought a figurehead was all he’d be. That also was before I realized how much power the president actually had.
I can’t remember if it was before or after he was elected that I asked my parents, “Is this normal?” and my mom looked at me with wide eyes and said “No.” The nail in the coffin for me was when Trump answered a question about the Dakota Access Pipeline with “I haven’t heard of anyone opposing it” and signed an executive order, commanding it to be built through the Standing Rock tribe’s treaty land and lake. If you know nothing about that issue, there was a major ongoing protest about that pipeline that sparked not only national participants to travel to the site and protest, but global participants too. The police were calling for help from police in other states because of how big it was getting. But Trump loves oil (and money), so clearly there was no problem. (This is still an ongoing problem.)
However, all that happened in my adulthood. What made me like this? How did I grow up caring about treaties with native tribes, accessibility and respect for disabled people, the environment, and many other things that Trump spits on? What sets people apart from each other so intensely?
Anyone that gives you a definitive answer to that last question is probably not entirely correct. There are too many things that “free will” allows for to point at any one cause for all this division and vitriol.
I grew up believing that forgiveness and redemption should always be available, because deep down all people were children of God and made for love and kindness, regardless of what religion they did or did not follow. Even the most heinous crime could be forgiven if the perpetrator truly repented and sought to change things for the better. I still believe this, but with more understanding that…some people may never seek redemption and some people may actually care more for worldly greed and fame than anything kindness and care for others could offer.
So, perhaps it is my faith and every lesson that resembled it that “radicalized” me. I grew up watching Teen Titans and Avatar the Last Airbender, where kindness and friendship between different cultures were valued, and the men that acted on greed, dehumanized others, and ignored the cries of the poor were not. I rewatched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory not only for the “Pure Imagination” scene, but also the ending where Gene Wilder says, “So shines a good deed in a weary world.” I was taught that promises should be kept and all people were created equal.
So, when I first heard Trump was running for president, I thought it was a joke. Like, haha, okay, so is Pikachu. I knew very little of Trump besides he was very rich and a nearly-forgotten businessman? But the more serious it got, the more I saw and learned about him. I stuck to raw videos of him to learn the truth of what he really said or did without projected biases. His callous and vain character was undeniable.
Should we vote against someone based on their character? This is something many MAGA people would argue about (and probably still do). I get it. The important thing should be “Are their policies good?” Assuming a policy actually were good, I think character absolutely matters. It tells you important things, like whether they are more likely to lie to your face to get what they want. In Harry Potter, we were taught “if you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.” Character not only builds inner integrity, but outside trust. Matthew 7:18 states, “A bad tree cannot bear good fruit.” A bad person cannot execute good policies.
A friend of mine once questioned me about talking about Standing Rock when those protests were going on. She said, “There’s nothing we can do, so I don’t see the point in talking about it.” A different friend and I donated supplies and money for those more able to do something. Today, we see signs that say, “democracy dies in silence” and people planning boycotts that historically work. I say, if we choose not to talk about something, that means we’ve either given up or decided it’s not important. Talking is a place where solutions are found or action is born—or at the very least, care is defined. Prayer means different things for different people, but one thing it can do is create goals and mindsets to stir action when opportunities arise.
I was taught at school that when bystanders do nothing, they, at worst, help the bully and, at best, allow the victim to suffer.
I refuse to be a bystander to suffering if I can help it.
I saw the threats to disabled people and women back then. I watched it expand into fear and hatred of all Muslim people. It continued discrimination toward Black people (or the “wrong kind of Black” people), and now it terrorizes trans people, seeks to erase neurodivergent people, and actively harms Hispanic families. It demonizes science in favor of money and fame.
People are getting arrested for supporting Palestine because Gaza is starving due to active human intentions? I couldn’t even feel helpful donating to charity, because I knew those charities couldn’t get into the territory because we are helping Israel block, kidnap, and/or kill those offering or seeking aid. If all of Palestine must be called “a terrorist group,” then at this point, so must all of Israel and those who support this man-made famine. Trump is a terrorist, too.
I could go on, but it’s all been said before. How can you care and not be “radical”?
Is there hope? I don’t know. Could this have been prevented? Looking at history…probably not. But everyday, our actions matter. Who are you? What do you stand for? As they say, “If you don’t stand for something, you might fall for anything.”
I may not know what to do at all times, but I do know that I must try to do something. This world needs love, light, and empathy. It needs people that are brave enough to stand up and call out those who threaten these things.
That’s why I go to protests against MAGA which generally labels me as a “liberal,” despite the majority of voters that surrounded me. If you agree, you’re not alone.
An excerpt from my WIP novel says,
“Try to remember this, no matter what happens: Even when the world seems awful, love and kindness will always be a part of humanity too. Don’t let go of that. The love we have for each other, even strangers, is one thing they can never rewrite or take away.”
Hang in there. ❤
N. K. Valek: Author 