Before January, I didn’t check the news upon waking. I made a pot of coffee and read the newspaper calmly. I started with comics or sports, or even the business section.
These days that seems like a luxury.
Now I grab my phone before I’m even upright, scrolling through headlines, wondering what horrendous event happened during the hours between sunrise in Washington DC and dawn in California. Shall I start the day worried, angry, or embarrassed?
I’m exhausted. I’ve lost focus. Before I can formulate an opinion about one political crisis, another pops up. Some days it’s just enough for a head-shaking, “What ridiculous thing did President Trump say today?” Other days, I begin the day with grief or fear.
On the world stage, we vacillate between gearing up for war with North Korea and sending more troops to Afghanistan. Where shall our soldiers be sent to risk their lives, and toward what end? Are we bringing peace to war-torn parts of the world, or emboldening and strengthening ISIS? Meanwhile, transgender service members informed by the president that their presence is disruptive, costly, and unwelcome.
Our country’s changing relationship with Mexico is ever-present in my community. Can we expect to see a “big, beautiful wall” rise up in our backyard? Who will pay for it, and at what cost? As immigration discussions intensify, I fear for my friends and neighbors who are protected under DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). These young adults, brought to the US as undocumented children, volunteered their personal information and that of their families in good faith, with the promise that they would be safe from deportation under DACA. Now it is rumored that the promises and protections of DACA will be withdrawn. We have invested time and money in the education of these young people; will we reap the benefits or see them deported?
In Arizona, even as Sheriff Joe Arpaio was found guilty of criminal obstruction of justice for defying a court order to end his discriminatory treatment of Latinos, President Trump pardoned him before he was sentenced. With this, racial profiling was given a tacit nod of approval.
As the president wrestles with the structure and purpose of NAFTA, we become estranged from our northern neighbor, Canada, as well. The possibility looms that we will have no allies by 2018.
Large swaths of Texas are underwater and will be so for months. Despite the extended cleanup effort ahead, budget cuts are being proposed for both FEMA and the Coast Guard. When asked if he had any words for the people of Texas facing Hurricane Harvey, President Trump gave a thumbs-up and said, “Good luck.”
Alongside the current crises lurk problems that flashed brilliantly and then tapered off into relative obscurity, still unresolved. The battles over repealing and replacing health care have likely not seen their last stand. President Trump has reversed two dozen rules meant to protect the environment, but promises that the coal industry will “take out clean coal — meaning, they’re taking out coal, [and] they’re going to clean it.” The Department of Education is still run by Betsy DeVos, who has never attended public school, sent her children to public school, nor worked in a public school. She has never taken out a college loan for herself or her children, but is in charge of overseeing the federal college loan program. The Syrian refuge crisis and the “Muslim travel ban” loom in the background. The president has titled the media the enemy of the people, and derided their work as “fake news,” even when they are quoting him directly. White supremacists feel empowered to openly and publicly gather, and they are met with equal resistance by counter-protestors.
Behind all of this is the constant drumbeat of Russia, Russia, Russia.
I wanted to begin this presidency hopefully. Ever an optimist, I believed that somehow our country would rise to the occasion, that the system of checks and balances would function as intended, and that we would strive to rebuild the unity destroyed by a tumultuous election.
Half a year later, I have outrage fatigue. I’m worried for my country and for its residents, those of all beliefs and walks of life. I feel guilty if I turn away from the news and anxious if I follow it.
I don’t know whether to protest or pray, to write letters to Congress or focus on small kindnesses to the people in my daily life. I take baby steps toward working for my view of justice and fairness. I seek out people whose views are diametrically opposed to mine, and engage them in dialogue.
I wait, cursing and praying, hoping that we can heal the divide that separates us.
