Game On

                Fifty years-ago Dr. King was shot.  The next morning, I was in Flint at a speech competition when the State Police came into the basement at St. Matt’s and escorted us out of the city during the riots.  Two months later it was Bobby Kennedy, and a few months after that the Democratic National Convention in Chicago.  It felt like everything was falling apart, like the next news flash would send us over the edge.  The civil rights protests and the protests against the war, the opposition to Nixon and the emergence of the movements for women and sexual identity made it feel like we were fighting back and winning.  It felt like we had turned a corner and were never going back, that the George Wallaces were in final retreat. It felt like the battle was over.  But it wasn’t.

                Looking back, it feels like all we did was pick the low hanging fruit and call it a day.  The evil we protested against never really went away.  We never followed through, so now we are at this juncture again, the one where we have to decide how to respond to the part of the American psyche that is permeated with misogyny and racism, with hate and violence, and is once again in power.  It doesn’t seem important to me to ask how it happened.  All that really matters is how we respond.  During Watergate, the Republican party was still a party with respect for America and the Constitution.  It no longer is.  We have to decide which direction we will take as a nation.

                Trump is waking up to the realization that the walls are closing in.  Like any infantile tyrant he will now follow his rage and his worst instincts and advisors.  He will bring in John Bolton.  If we don’t love him, he will attack.  He will continue to sell out the interests of the country to appease Putin.  He is more dangerous now than he has ever been.  He knows he is entering the final phase of a failed presidency, and he has no intention of going quietly.  He will be more erratic and more impulsive as time goes on.

                The Republicans will not help.  A few may be moved by the treasonous way Trump appeases Russia, but everything else he does, they approve of.  They don’t believe in fixing the multiple problems with our elections, because if our elections were really free and fair they would be out of power.  They have manipulated the system so that the minority is in power, and they are using that power to dismantle any part of the government that doesn’t serve their craven interests.  They will not protect the environment.  They will not protect school children.  They will not impeach Trump.

                In 68, the sense of urgency was palpable.  We all knew that the moment demanded something new.  Maybe the kids from Parkland, the womens marches, and the progressive and diverse group of people running for office are signs of a new urgency.  Maybe.  What seems clear to me now looking back on the events of 68 is that it isn’t enough to win the battle.  Throwing Trump out will certainly help, but it won’t get to the root of the problem.  The low hanging fruit isn’t enough.  We have to face who we are.  We have to face how exceptionally destructive and duplicitous we’ve been as a nation.  We have to deal with racism and misogyny and a host of other deeply rooted fears and hatreds that drive our politics.

                I’m reminded of an Ursula Le Guinn story where a wizard is attacked by an evil wizard who has killed off all the other local wizards.  He eventually defeats the evil wizard and sends him to the underworld, but to complete his task he leaves the world of the living to stand guard over his grave to make sure he never returns.  Trump is what happens when the evil wizard is merely left for dead instead of finally defeated.  Each iteration of the Trumpish parts of our national psyche is more and more dangerous and more and more vile.  The forces that brought Trump to power are not going to go quietly.  They will have to be defeated.  It may turn violent – we have a tendency to do that.  This time we have to play for keeps – play to the end.  I hope that fifty years from now one of those beautiful kids from Parkland isn’t sitting by a window thinking about how they missed the chance to do it right.  Game on.