November 9th, 2016
Dear Mr. Trump-
Congratulations on winning the most coveted job in the world. Today I had to go to work and face my students, students who were not in your camp. I thought I’d give a pep speech about how as Americans, we needed to come together and work through our differences. More importantly, I thought I would tell them we need to educate ourselves so we understand the process better. This way, when they’re old enough, they’ll have the knowledge to vote with confidence. Like most days in teaching, that’s what I “thought” I’d do.
Instead, I walked into a shit show.
“Hey Mrs. P, guess what? I have cyanide pills. I’m selling them to whoever wants one. They’re only $20, can I interest you in one?” A shake of the head and a wry smile exposed his sarcasm. “Geez, I can’t imagine living in a Trump world.”
“Hey Mrs. P,” big, blue, watery eyes beseeched mine, “is he really going to drop a nuke like he says he is? Can he do that? Are we going to die?”
“Hey Mrs. P, is he going to ship my family back to Jamaica? Can he do that?”
Tears, sadness, confusion, and fear. “How can people vote for a man who said such horrible things about women? Don’t they have respect for us?”
“You know, he made fun of that handicapped reporter. How do you think that makes handicapped people feel?”
“Can he really build a wall? Is he going to get buses and ship people back to where they came from?”
“How are we going to eat if he takes away our food stamps? Will I at least get to eat here at school?”
Mr. Trump, the children have been watching.
They fear you, and the things you’ve said.
Worse, they fear those that voted for you.
And somehow I’m supposed to make them feel safe.
Good job, Mr. President elect. Good job.
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