Letter from a citizen (one)

It was incredibly bleak there for a while. I’ll never forget that unseasonably warm November night in 2016. It was like watching your favorite team lose the World Series in the final inning, down to the final out, with a three-run lead. The opposition, our bitter rivals, winning via an inside-the-park grand slam, laden with the most basic fielding and throwing errors. A tragic and horrifying comedy. We were left in stunned silence, helplessly watching our opponents gleefully circle the base paths while we struggled to make the final out. The other side had won, and we had lost.

But it was so much worse that losing a baseball game, even Game 7 in the World Series. It was a thousand times worse. So much was at stake, and it was a zero-sum game. The most crucial of victories had just slipped through our fingers, and the repercussions were felt throughout society. 

Each day that followed brought new challenges. The seven stages of grief played out for me and those close to me. We were in a state of shock and disbelief. How could we have allowed this? How could people not see through the carnival-barking con man that he was? Anger followed, frustration at the ignorance, and rage at the hatred. By the time acceptance arrived, the Orange Goblin was officially the Leader of the Free World. And then the true circus began, as if the year and a half campaigning hadn’t been enough. Flynn, the Russians, Comey, the special counsel, the infantile tweets, Charlottesville, Bannon, The Mooch, Stormy, Ukraine, and the relentless barrage of blatant lies every day without pause. On and on the circus continued.

It was a mad reality show spectacle. And that was all before a real crisis set the world on fire. The biggest concern for every sane, thoughtful American was that it all became normalized. Most indicators showed the country flourishing before the Time of Corona, and it was as if it was okay to behave this way. Like it was fine to act like an ignorant teenage bully to anyone or any group who seemed to disagree with the administration, even in the slightest. Worst of all, the constant lies, attacks on our institutions, and an all-out war in the truth. 

In this chaotic theater, the global stage watched, perplexed and gravely concerned. Long-standing allies were baffled, while adversaries found openings to exploit. The fabric of international relations, carefully woven over decades, started to fray at the edges as the world grappled with the implications of this new American paradigm. It wasn’t just a domestic upheaval; it was a geopolitical earthquake.

The narrative of American exceptionalism, once a beacon of hope and a model for democracy, was being rewritten in real-time. The land of opportunity seemed to morph into a battleground of ideologies, where facts were malleable and truth was a matter of perspective. The impact was profound, echoing across oceans and continents, shaking the very foundations of the post World War II order.

And yet, amidst this turmoil, something remarkable was happening. A new consciousness began to emerge. The relentless assault on truth and decency awakened a dormant spirit within many. It was as if the nation, having wandered through a long, dark night of the soul, began to see the first light of dawn. People who had long been apathetic about politics started paying attention. Conversations about democracy, freedom, and responsibility took center stage in coffee shops, town halls, and on social media platforms.

This period became a crucible, a test of resilience and character. It forged a new generation of activists, thinkers, and leaders. We saw a resurgence in civic engagement, a renaissance of journalism, with reporters digging deeper than ever before to hold power to account. It was a time when artists, writers, and musicians channeled their craft into a collective outcry for everyone to simply try and be a better human.

As you know, we made it through to the next election, through his attempted coup and insurrection. It wasn’t easy. The entire Trumpian episode did significant damage to our country, our national psyche, and our standing in the world. It ignited the fire that sparked the Terrible Twenties. We had a deep hole to dig ourselves out of. But we did, as the darkest hour eventually turned to dawn. Now, we thrive in an age of unparalleled progress, prosperity, and a generation that knows no bounds.

It was a long and treacherous bridge to build and navigate to get here. God bless you, Mr. Trump. We wouldn’t have come this far without you. No doubt. We had to reach one of our lowest points to get to our highest. In this newfound era, there’s a sense of cautious optimism. The scars of the past are still visible, reminders of the fragility of our institutions and the need for eternal vigilance. Yet, there’s also a sense of rejuvenation, a collective agreement to strive for a better, more inclusive future. The lessons learned during those tumultuous and, for many, formative years have become part of our national DNA, a guide for future generations to navigate the complexity of global politics and human dynamics.

Letter from a citizen (two)

What has become of our pride in being American? It’s disheartening to witness the growing tide of this anti-American sentiment. Have we forgotten our rich history, the greatness we’ve achieved during our three centuries of existence? This unpatriotic wave stemming from sanctimony and ignorance is nothing short of a soul-wrenching sorrow.

I recall a time when we had a President who wholeheartedly embraced America. A leader unafraid and deeply devoted to our country. Despite the constant attacks from the system, he persevered. Don’t let history define him solely by his mistakes and shortcomings. Understand this: he was as pro-American as any leader since Eisenhower. He delivered on his promises, with achievements such as tax cuts, progress in Korea, peace in the Middle East, and, most importantly, rekindling the genuine American spirit. Bold and ambitious accomplishments. But they were never enough for our divided nation. All the media wanted to talk about were the tweets and personal affairs. They subjected him and his family to relentless denigration, a level of scrutiny no other American politician has endured. His sole aim was to “Make America Great Again.” Their incessant attacks were heartbreaking to witness.

However, there was a time when we had hope for this once-great nation. In November 2016, I, along with millions of true patriots, savored a victory that felt like a triumph on the blood-soaked battlefields of history. We had waited long for this moment, enduring eight years of being told how to spend our hard-earned money, apologizing to the world for our exceptionalism, and believing that others could provide liberty and freedom as we do. It’s absurd; why should the U.S. ever apologize? We’re the first to confront evil, to send aid following disasters, and to bear the burden of the UN’s operations.

The Obama administration set us back further than any in recent memory. But we endured, patiently waiting for our hero. We marveled as he outclassed over a dozen Republican contenders in the primaries, saving the most formidable opponent for last: the most corrupt politician since her own husband. Our man defied all odds and won. For a while, I basked in the rare joy of American politics. The forgotten were remembered. He promised to level the playing field. No more lopsided trade deals or favoring other nations over our own. This was Making America Great Again—true American pride, not the politically correct nonsense that painted us as bigots for supporting a President who ardently championed our country.

Yet, the dream was short-lived. The system ultimately triumphed, pushing him aside and sending our country spiraling back down. The next administration, with its misguided and seemingly senile leader, made things even worse than before. I don’t care how history records it because the writers are part of the system. I know the truth, and that’s why I write to you now. We had our moment in the sun, a glimpse of how America can regain its greatness. God bless President Trump; he provided us with genuine hope, if only for a fleeting moment.

In those years of his presidency, I witnessed a resurgence of American values and pride in my community. Flags were flown with honor, veterans were respected, and people spoke of their country with love and admiration. There was a palpable sense of unity, a feeling that we were all part of something bigger, something noble and grand. But as quickly as it came, it vanished, leaving many of us disillusioned and longing for a return to those days of glory and triumph.

I often find myself reminiscing about the rallies, the energy, and the camaraderie. Those gatherings were more than political events; they were celebrations of our heritage and our future. There, amidst the sea of red hats and banners, I felt a part of a movement that transcended politics. It was a movement of the people, by the people, for the people, and it was exhilarating. Yet now, we find ourselves in more treacherous times than ever, with voices of dissent and disapproval mocked and humiliated for not accepting the ‘truth’ and the One True Opinion regarding all societal and cultural matters. The media is more a propaganda machine than ever, silencing or belittling those who dare to speak out against the prevailing narrative. The very foundations of our democracy are under threat, and it’s up to us, what I believe is still the silent majority, to stand up in unison and be counted. 

As I pen this letter, I do so with a heavy heart but also with a glimmer of hope. Hope that the spirit of what we once had can be rekindled with the rise of this new generation, the UnPluggers. The American dream is not lost, but merely obscured by the clouds of division and misinformation. We must remember the lessons of the past, honor the sacrifices of those who came before us, and strive to create a future where America once again stands as a shining city upon a hill.

God bless you, Mr. Trump.