Trump made us all worse; how do we get better?
Taking a risk on hope and love in a new administration.
My goal for this newsletter is that it primarily focuses on movies, TV and various pop culture items, but I hope you’ll indulge me a few times if I stray from the formula.
I would be remiss not mention this week’s inauguration of President Joe Biden, which occurred Wednesday during a beautiful ceremony at the Capitol, just two weeks to the day after insurrectionists goaded by Donald Trump tried to stage a coup. As if a repudiation of those activities, the day was calm, unmarred by riots and large protests. Even Trump didn’t try to overstay his time in the spotlight, as some had predicted. He slunk off out of the White House in the morning, declining to meet with his successor or even show up at the event, the first leaving president to not attend an inauguration in more than a century.
And you know what? For once, Trump did the wise thing. He stayed away, and he stayed quiet. When Wednesday’s ceremony is revisited in history books or video, he is going to be absent from the moment. I hope it is the first step of him writing himself out of history, slinking away into obscurity.
It felt like there was a palpable, nationwide sigh yesterday, as if you could feel the country collectively unclenching its muscles. I had the same feeling I’d get when I was younger and my parents would be gone for a bit and it started to get dark; as soon as the headlights hit the driveway, I relaxed. The adults had come home.
I want to be clear that what I’m describing is not elation at a Democrat replacing a Republican. Yes, I lean left politically, but I’m not a card-carrier. I think if you are 100% able to line up with a party’s stances, you’ve probably put that party over conscience and ideals. If another Republican had taken office, I might disagree with their views, but I would genuinely pray for and root for their success. Good people can come from both parties, and I’ve voted for Republican, Democrat and Independent presidential candidates in the past.
But Trump leaving was a cause for celebration. While I am a person of faith, I’m not especially prone to making pronouncements about the spiritual or supernatural. But I truly believe that with Trump gone, an evil has been excised from our nation’s highest office. What bothered me most about Donald Trump wasn’t that he was a Republican, even if I disagreed with most of his policies. It was the endless cruelty, bullying, lying and conflict that he brought with him. When he took office, I hoped the gravity of the position would temper his worst impulses and that those around him would hold him to account. That didn’t happen.
Instead, Trump pulled everyone down with him. The discourse among our elected officials grew uglier, meaner and more outlandish. Truth was distorted, questioned and ignored. Elected government officials seemed to take joy in the cruelty they showed in cutting off aid for refugees or refusing to stand by the Black community. Political discourse has always been heated and sharp-tongued, but it took on a meanness I can’t recall it having, and it called everyone to all-or-nothing allegiance. You were no longer expected to vote your ideals and conscience, and compromise was no longer part of the path forward. It was party or nothing, platform over the common good.
And it made us worse. Trumpers were fond of screaming “f*** your feelings” and venting racial epithets. But the Left was just as guilty, and I have to include myself. We called Trumpers “morons” and “idiots,” and I’m sure our tendency to pile on the president and his cronies for every little thing — not just his hateful behavior but stupid gaffes and mistakes — didn’t help the overall discourse. I’ve cut old friends off on social media because of the views they held and promoted, and I know others have done the same with me. I’ve been in screaming matches with family members over this president’s actions. I’ve wept over friends who were swept up in the cascade of lies and conspiracy theories, but I’ve also had several who I’ve selfishly pushed away and declined to engage in any thoughtful, loving conversation just because I had no desire to see them as human beings worthy of empathy.
Trump brought out the worst in us, and I know that his leaving doesn’t solve the problem. It can’t, because he wasn’t the root of it. He was a symptom that arose from a nation mired in toxicity, isolated in echo chambers and swept up in ridiculous culture wars. Neither party has modeled compromise well, and American politics have traditionally had an easier time going dirty than taking the high road. Meanwhile, we’re swimming in social media platforms that we still haven’t learned to use responsibly, and the owners of these platforms don’t care, so long as we’re still logging in, clicking like and posting. The fact that we are all stuck in our homes, left to our echo chambers and not forced to come into contact with anyone who doesn’t share our beliefs certainly doesn’t help.
So what do we do?
It’s times like these that I most believe the Bible is true, because Jesus’ way is so much harder, but so much more resonant with the way we know the world should be. We first need conviction; we need a good dose of self-awareness as to how the last four years have changed us and our approach to conversation. For me, I’m seeing how much easier it is to tear someone down when they’re just a picture on a social media profile and how much louder my volume gets when I don’t have to say words to someone’s face. Social media can easily cause us to dehumanize people, to let their causes and politics take the place of a complex personality. I’m not saying that it’s never just best to let go of friendships that have only become toxic; I am saying that we must — I must — not look at people’s profile pictures and immediately label them as “Trumper,” “Socialist,” “MAGAit” or “Snowflake.”
It’s hard, because of our tendency to see our curated feeds and get caught up in an echo chamber that affirms us as the “right” ones. And even harder is choosing to love another person, no matter whether you disagree with them. The absolute worst thing about the Trump presidency has been the way it’s dehumanized others. As a Christian, that should chill me to my soul. We believe men and women are made in the image of God. and carry his imprint, which means we should treat everyone with utmost respect, dignity and love. It doesn’t mean every view is valid or that truth is malleable based on perspective; it does mean our disagreements must be seasoned with love, gentleness and humility. Again, I find that I have a much easier time doing this in person than online (maybe I should spend less time online is the biggest lesson I’ve picked up in the last four years).
What keeps coming back to me from the images of the Capitol riots are the number of crosses and “Jesus Saves” signs. The men and women who stormed the Capitol overwhelmingly claimed the name of Christ. It’s a perversion of his teachings the same way that Al-Qaeda is a perversion of the teachings of Islam. People bearing the name of Christ became extremists for falsehood and hate. The best way forward is to go the opposite direction; as Martin Luther King Jr. said, we must become “extremists for love.” I’m a long way from that; my prayer is that as the dust settles and we take a breath before the political rhetoric starts up again we'll begin to realize how to love each other again.
And, listen, I know not all of my subscribers share my faith. That’s fine, and I don’t use this platform to proselytize. I hope you share my belief that love is the way forward, even if you don’t identify as a Christian. And we’ll get back to movies and TV next week.
I don’t know that Joe Biden is going to be a great president. I hope he’s a good one. I hope he’s a compassionate one. And I hope that when he makes missteps, he can be held to account. But I’m hopeful. And these days, hope feels refreshing.
The Digest
Where I am online this week
CROSS.CULTURE.CRITIC. Podcast: Joe and I had meant to record an episode in December, but even in COVID times, the holidays were too busy to find time to record. So this week we sat down, with a loose plan to talk about the Capitol riot, the inauguration and much of the things I already wrote about above. But we began talking about our history in churches that banned alcohol and from there got into a long discussion about legalism, grace and Christian freedom. It was a much better conversation than the political one. Available on iTunes, Spotify and other podcast outlets.
Chrisicisms
The art and pop culture I’m enjoying lately
Until This Shakes Apart by Five Iron Frenzy: One of the most pleasant surprises of last fall was seeing ‘90s punk-ska band Five Iron Frenzy, one of my favorite bands, put out a Kickstarter for a new album requesting $60,000 — and ultimately raise nearly five times that amount (full disclosure: I contributed to the Kickstarter). The album, their first since 2012, released last week and I’ve been playing it fairly constantly. It’s as energetic and loud as anything FIF has done, but even better is the social and political commentary, which feels as potent and angry as anything they did in the ‘90s (there’s a big All the Hype that Money Can Buy vibe to this album, although I think this is a much more cohesive and accomplished album). Usually when these old bands come back, it’s to sing a bunch of songs about nostalgia and how great it is to be in a band; I’m glad they took the opportunity to continue writing songs that have something to say. It’s loud, angry, fun and hopeful, often all at once, and might actually be one of their best albums.
All it Takes is a Goal podcast: I’ve long been a fan of author and speaker Jon Acuff. While my first introduction to him was the (very funny) book Stuff Christians Like (which was given to me as a wedding gift!), it’s been his books about goals and motivation that have really caught my attention. Acuff’s advice is practical and encouraging, and his writing is balanced with a dose of self-deprecating humor. So when I heard he was launching a new podcast, I immediately signed up. And this weekly series has quickly become a favorite. With his usual humor and energy, Acuff, a self-described “goal nerd” walk through choosing a goal, moving forward without fear and more. This year, I’m trying some new creative endeavors and taking a few risks, and this has been a real kick in the butt to get started. And at 30 minutes, it can be listened to on a quick walk or while doing dishes! Available on iTunes, Spotify and wherever you get your podcasts.
Time: I finally had a chance to catch up with Garrett Bradley’s acclaimed documentary, which follows Fox Rich as she fights for the release of her husband Rob from prison. The two robbed a bank in the late ‘90s in a moment of desperation, and while Fox pleaded out and received a shorter sentence, Rob pleaded not guilty and ended up with a 60-year sentence. In addition to following Fox as she makes a case for her husband’s parole, the film leans heavily on home video taken over the nearly 20 years of Rob’s imprisonment as Fox tried to raise their children into good young men. The film is intimate and often moving, and it does an admirable job at shining a light on the cruelty of the American justice system. But I couldn’t help wishing there was more here. At 80 minutes, it’s largely focused on Fox’s personal travails, but missing greater context to tell us why this particular story matters.I would have appreciated a longer, richer look at this situation and how it relates to the larger problem of America’s prison industry. Instead, what should feel like a heart-rending emotional epic feels slight and dashed off. I wish I’d connected with this one more. Available to stream on Amazon Prime.
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom: The adaptation of August Wilson’s celebrated play can’t quite help but feel a bit stagebound, but I’m not going to complain because that stage features some of our best actors chewing into Wilson’s gorgeous dialogue. In his final performance, Chadwick Boseman does some of his best work as a cocky young trumpeter hoping his stint with a beloved blues diva will put him in position to achieve fame of his own. Boseman is fierce and heartbreaking here, particularly in a devastating monologue where he recounts abuse he watched his mother suffer. There’s so much pain and energy in this performance that it’s startling to realize Boseman was shooting this while he was dying from colon cancer; I can’t imagine doing this work with that in his mind, and it’s a fresh reminder of what we lost with his passing. Viola Davis is stunning as always as the titular singer, and the film has a lot to say about art, race and how white entrepreneurs had no problem exploiting Black artists. One of last year’s best films, and I’m glad I caught up with it. Streaming on Netflix.
The Force by Don Winslow: One of my new year’s resolutions is to read more fiction in 2021, and that got off to a hell of a start with this crime epic by Winslow. The story of a beloved-but-dirty New York cop, Dennis Malone, this is as gritty and terse as crime dramas come. But it’s not purely pulp. There’s a soulfulness and nuance to Winslow’s story, and Malone’s a more complex character than you might expect. He’s a man who wants to be a good cop; he also likes the power it allows him to wield, and the shootouts and raids are punctuated with musings on the small steps that turn good men into crooked ones. It’s often Goodfellas with cops instead of gangsters, and it feels particularly resonant these days. This was my first novel by Winslow; it will not be my last.
And that is it! We’ll be back next week! In the meantime, feel free to follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram!