Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay |
At Mar-A-Lago, Elon Musk sat next to Donald Trump during Thanksgiving dinner. There's a video showing them both dancing to "Y.M.C.A." I'm not posting it.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay |
I have shared the same bathroom with Sarah McBride on several occasions, and she never once made me uncomfortable. She did however help me fix my makeup. That congresswoman knows how to blend her foundation, which is more than I can say about Donald Trump.
Dana Goldberg
Source: X
Image by Alexa from Pixabay |
I expected this. About five minutes after hearing on Election Night that the state of Delaware had voted to send openly transgender Democrat Sarah McBride to occupy its lone seat in Congress, I knew Republicans would create a hullabaloo over the other kind of seats.
I firmly believed Georgia firebrand Marjorie Taylor Greene would be the one to lead a Republican bog blockade, and was I ever surprised to read that South Carolina's Nancy Mace got there first.
I assumed Greene would walk through glass for the chance to grandstand on this matter, but somehow Mace beat her to the potty punch.
It turns out, though, that Greene hasn't completely missed her opportunity. She declared Mace's legislation "doesn't go far enough," and she'd be willing to get into a physical tussle if McBride uses women's restrooms.
That's our Marjorie. Always ready to up the ante in the service of batshit crazy.
Image: Katie Rainbow at Pexels |
How can the rest of us help? I'm glad you asked.
Over the last few years, as state legislatures began targeting trans folks, some faith communities noticed. I'm a Unitarian Universalist, and my Seattle church is involved in a national effort to help transgender and gender-divergent folks escape red states.
We're a kind of aboveground Underground Railroad. Perhaps we should be called Thomas the Transgender Tank.
Anyway, my minister said that calls from frightened trans folks escalated after the election, which is no surprise. So we who are helping with the local endeavor realized we needed to up our game.
During both services today, a transgender congregant laid out how dire the situation is around the country. The money that was donated to the collection plates will be divided between the national Pink Haven Coalition and our local branch. I staffed the info table and was gratified to see church members signing up to join our group, work on fundraising or provide housing.
The refugees, whether individuals or families with kids, lack the resources to move across the country, so we'll help with temporary housing, grocery cards, info on medical and social resources, etc. And someone should probably be there with smelling salts when they first get a load of Seattle prices.
As the service I attended wrapped up today, our resident mezzo soprano launched into "You'll Never Walk Alone," and we were encouraged to join in. I did, and tears began to fall. Damn that Rodgers and Hammerstein.
I know all too well how hard it is to watch the news these days, or to do anything but fume. Unfortunately, time is tight, as wretched individuals will soon be coming for innocent people. This is what I'm doing about it. What can you do?
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But there is one thing. According to The Hill, Trump lost ground with LGBTQ folks. Of voters who self-identified as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender, 86 percent voted for Kamala Harris. That's a 22-point increase over 2020, when Joe Biden captured 64 percent of the queer vote against Trump.
Trump infamously gained ground with groups like Black and Latino men, but the opposite happened with us. Could it be that we did more than any other demographic to save democracy? Harvey Milk and Barbara Jordan would be so proud.
The reasons queer voters took this stand are obvious. Start with the Trump campaign turning transgender people into effigies. Beyond that, hell, we're gay: We know when a production should never have gotten out of development.
Image by Jude Joshua from Pixabay |
As soon as we sat down, Cathy offered her condolences on the American election. She added that both of us were welcome to move to Canada, since "here we like immigrants."
Photo by Wavy_ revolution at Pexels |
The first thing NPR told me was Jan. 6 rioters, whom Trump described as "political prisoners" during the campaign, fully expect a pardon on his first day in office.
Click.
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It looked likely Trump was going to win when I went to bed last night. Not surprisingly, I had a helluva time falling asleep. And then staying asleep. His smugly—that's a combination of smug and ugly—face kept intruding. So I'm not in tiptop form this morning. But a few things come to mind.
For many Americans, like me, Trump represented an existential threat to American democracy. It's now clear that for many other Americans the existential threat they felt was to themselves. In other words, it was the economy, stupid. Inflation roared during the Biden term and it didn't during the Trump term. That's an incredibly simplistic take, but that in itself suits a lot of voters.
Throw in sexism, racism, transphobia and homophobia. Add a large dose of un-Christian Christians. Drop in an appalling mess in the Middle East. And don't forget Trump super-selfishly putting the kibosh on an immigration deal, and the fact that the benefits of the Infrastructure Law haven't been felt yet.
So now we're faced with the specter of four more years of the man who would be dictator. As he surrounds himself with toadies, prepare yourself for Steve Bannon as press secretary. Stephen Miller as chief of staff. Kid Rock as secretary of state.
Our rage and bafflement are real. The temptation in these early days is to turn on each other, but that won't help in any way. I suggest instead that we all acknowledge the pain and how bitterly disappointed we are in our fellow Americans who chose this criminal narcissist with a shriveled heart and a conniving mind as the way forward.
And we must take care of ourselves. The very phrase makes me feel namby-pamby, but it's the truth. We're no good to ourselves or others if we deteriorate under this considerable strain. I, for one, plan to go to the gym this afternoon. I'll probably break into tears while on the treadmill . . . but that could also be because I hate the treadmill.
Image by Azmi Talib from Pixabay |
But for my queer-centric purposes, I'm zeroing in on just one reason here on this day before Election Day: the appalling transphobia of Trump and his fellow travelers.
The "PBS NewsHour" put my stomach in knots over the weekend by reporting that, between Oct 7 and Oct 20, the Trump campaign and allied groups dedicated over 40 percent of their enormous advertising budget to anti-trans ads.
That's an amazing figure. In the final days of the election, Republicans believe the winning strategy is to demonize the most vulnerable part of the queer community. If this were a debate class, they'd all flunk for such an irrelevant closing argument. (If they hadn't already flunked for the way Trump treats microphones.)
Since the main issues in this election are the economy, immigration and abortion, noted a "NewsHour" host, why the anti-trans push in the closing stages? A transgender journalist replied that "the purpose of a fear campaign is to distract you from issues that you normally care about by making you so afraid of a group of people, of somebody like me, for instance, that you're willing to throw everything else away because you're scared."
It strikes me that Trump could cover all the bases by running just a single ad attacking a transgender poor immigrant who aborted a kindergartner.
It wasn't at all long ago that Republicans fear-mongered around gay rights and same-sex marriage for political gain. Now transgender folks are their victim of choice. Who in the LGBTQIA+ community will be next? It's hard to imagine conservatives getting whipped into a froth over genderfluid asexuals.
The bottom line is which will happen first: They run out of fear or we run out of letters?