WN: The article highlighted below holds special sadness for me, given a similar concern in our family with some members–Trump supporters: one vehemently, the other less so, though has expressly written me off. The line-up follows suit: (at times pontification about) Anthropogenic Climate Disruption denial; anti-immigration; anti-Muslim; anti-peace; anti-liberal; anti-feminist; anti-rational; anti-caring; anti-decency; xenophobic; angry–verging sometimes on hatefulness.
That’s one part of the extended family. Another part has at times called me pointedly a (Christian) heretic, embracing a rigid religious fundamentalism brooking no compromise–or discussion.
Another part, though lacking in theological, philosophical, literary or historiographical training, pontificates just the same about the above in a know-better-than-the-text New Testament portrait of Jesus, about church (generic), about attribution to Western church history of (seemingly) all things nasty in the West; about the Apostle Paul (damn him!); in an airy superior-than-thou (“But surely . . .“) display largely devoid of openness to dialogue: another anti-rational kind of (inverse religious) fundamentalism.
And I–and my blind spots?! . . . After all, so the above strikes me. But what colours my perceptions? What openness do I show to dialogue? What willingness do I exhibit to transcend these differences?
So there. It all can feel painful at times. (But I keep hoping!)
In 2016, I watched from Ontario as it became clear that Donald Trump would win the U.S. election. The dismay I felt was made worse knowing that very soon, my Canadian husband-to-be would come face to face with some of Trump’s most fervent supporters a few weeks later.
We drove down to North Carolina to celebrate American Thanksgiving with my parents. It would be my fiancé’s first time meeting extended family. I was an American citizen and a Democrat, and warned him that we’d be the only non-Republicans in attendance. The mood was cordial until he politely asked those gathered why they supported the then-president elect.
…
When he responded in kind about Canada’s admiration for Obama, another guest wordlessly unholstered his handgun and placed it on the table. That pretty much wrapped up the evening.
All I could do was put my head down on the table and wait for it to be over, much like I had most my life.
My anxiety over Trump’s abuses compounded on social media, where I put up with pro-Trump posts to keep in touch with family and friends. The breaking point for me came when I heard Trump describe white supremacists chanting “you will not replace us” during their march through Charlottesville, Va. as “very fine people.”
Sharing my criticisms online led to a Trump-supporting family member telling me to “shut up and fall in line like all the other women in the family.” I did neither, and blocked family members from my accounts. Needless to say, interactions with my folks became shorter and significantly less frequent.
Wayne Northey was Director of Man-to-Man/Woman-to-Woman – Restorative Christian Ministries (M2/W2) in British Columbia, Canada from 1998 to 2014, when he retired. He has been active in the criminal justice arena and a keen promoter of Restorative Justice since 1974. He has published widely on peacemaking and justice themes. You will find more about that on this website: a work in progress.
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By Jenn Merritt, Special To HuffPost
