I had such a strong reaction when Trump won re-election on November 5th that my therapist Lori thought it must have especially deep meaning for me. She wanted me to explore that, and suggested that I do a blog post about it. Well, here it is.
In 2016, when Trump lost the popular vote but took the White House anyway, I was surprised, disappointed and worried. I was especially concerned about what his tenure would mean for refugees, including in particular Muslim refugees. But I didn’t get suicidal or anything like that, partly because I told myself back then that voters had picked Trump despite his awful words and deeds; maybe not realizing that he meant what he said. This time, my reaction was much more severe: I couldn’t think of anything else in the days after this year’s American election, and I definitely did feel full-on suicidal.
Why? There are at least two reasons.
There’s a general reason, not specific to me, namely that this time Trump’s election cannot be written off as an anomaly. He won the popular vote; he carried all the “swing states”; he increased his margins across pretty much every demographic. So, it now seems to me that Trump gets many millions of votes because of his awful words and deeds, rather than despite them. To come at it another way, I thought back in 2016 that Trump voters were either unwise or unfair. Last time, I was able to put most weight on the former. He was an unfamiliar wild card back then. I think that the disjunction still applies, but now I can’t help but weight the latter more heavily, because Americans now have plenty of experience with President Donald J. Trump.
My reaction was so strong for another reason, and it requires some personal history to explain it. Being raised in Canada in the 1960s and 70s, I developed my fair share of Anti-Americanism. It’s sort of in the water up here. That was only buttressed in the 1980s, as I came to understand the role of the United States throughout Latin America — the latter having become my adopted second home, because of my student exchange in Uruguay in 1983-84. I did my share of protesting at the American consulate in Toronto back in my teens, let me tell you! However, I ended up going to grad school at MIT in Boston, and my first wife Hamila and I lived there very happily for five years. (Hamila, having grown up in Uruguay under its dictatorship, also had plenty of Anti-American sentiments when we first arrived.) I also did stints in the 90s at UMass-Amherst, Rutgers and University of Puerto Rico at Mayaguez. The result was that I came to have a much more favourable impression of Americans. I never concluded that the place was a justice-driven paradise. I remained very aware of its continuing foreign and domestic policy, for example. But I came to separate in my mind much more clearly the US Government’s policies, under both Democrats and Republicans, from the US folk. The folk, in my personal experience, were mostly generous of spirit, openminded, caring, etc. I had tons of friends and acquaintances, tons of experiences with random strangers, who all provided compelling evidence of this.
Now you can understand better my reaction on November 5th, and during the ensuing days. I couldn’t put together my erstwhile impressions of quotidian Americans with them (knowingly, purposely, showing malice aforethought) picking that guy to lead them. Had I been mistaken to cast off my Anti-Americanism? Had the populace changed its mood so much in the last decades? Surely my many dear friends down there hadn’t turned outright nasty?
Here’s a telling clue to how I initially felt. When I ran into American tourists down in Costa Rica in the days after the election, I couldn’t help but wonder: “Did you vote for him? Are you a Trumpista?” And as a result, I chose not to say “Good morning” or “Lovely place, Costa Rica” to American-looking strangers. I opted instead for an uncharacteristic stone cold silence.
Is that destined to become my usual attitude for the next four years? How awful that would be.
Having explained a little better my immediate depression-grade reaction to Trump’s second term, I now owe you some wise words about overcoming it. For, as I know from Facebook and from conversations off-line as well, I am not the only person who felt suicidal on the morning of November 6th.
In fact, that takes me to my first recommendation: Help others deal with the situation. Talk them through it as best you can. That will aid you as well, as you’ll have to rehearse the bright side not just for them, but for yourself. It also really comforted me to realize that I was far from alone. In particular, ever so many Americans felt despondent just as I did.
Here’s a second suggestion. Avoid the temptation of generalizing, as the prejudiced are wont to do. At a minimum, keep firmly in mind that the US is now a nation divided. I read, for example, that every single county in Massachusetts — which, maybe not coincidentally, is the state where I had lived for five years — had gone heavily Democratic. It’s not an adequate comfort to know that none of the places where I have resided went for Trump, but it merits remembering. Another important step in forestalling the return of Anti-American sentiment is to keep in touch with American friends who aren’t Trumpistas.
Next, turning to some ideas from Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, I recommend practicing radical acceptance. Especially if you don’t live there, you can’t hold yourself responsible for fixing things in the USA. Like aging, loss and death, there may be essentially nothing that you yourself can do to drastically change the situation. So, it’s crucial to stop resisting it. I’m reminded here of my favourite parable from the Buddha: the second dart of painful feeling. The Buddha asks us to imagine a man who has been struck by a poison dart, and who won’t let a physician help him until the man understands who fired the dart, why they did so, who else was involved, etc. Fretting about all those issues is a second dart. Says the Buddha, the man cannot avoid the first pain, the one from the dart itself; but it’s in his power to not experience the second dart, by simply accepting that the first dart is outside his control. (Of course, if you can change things in the US, if that happens to be in your power, work on that too! It’s a fine balance, knowing when to accept the first dart versus fighting back.)
I have some practical tips too, that have been helping me manage my dark thoughts. Keep busy, especially with exercise. The active body helps heal the wounded mind. Do fruitful tasks — like cooking dinner, calling a friend, or writing a blog post — to feel some sense of accomplishment. Definitely do guided meditations on the theme of acceptance. Here’s one from Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=2rwCdGW-7q8&t=0s. If you can manage it, practice regular loving-kindness meditations as well, directed even at Trump’s followers! The Mindful Movement has one on that general theme too, which you can find here: https://youtu.be/tY3NnodM3Ww.
Finally, keep me posted on how you’re doing. We can help each other.