I was on my way to get, yes, another cup of $0.99 Happy Hour coffee (don’t judge!), and leaving downtown I saw a boy who was developmentally delayed on the sidewalk entering a store with his mother — so I waved at him. He, very happily, waved back. And I suddenly wanted to punch an enthusiastic Donald Trump supporter in the face.
Only in the spirit of the late, great Dr. King, I try to rise above that. So I took three deep breaths and sang to myself: ” 1, 2, 3… nothing bothers me.”
And I still wanted to punch a Donald Trump supporter in the face.
This young man was so full of joy, so eager to wave back, and I just wanted to get out and give him a hug. Except we’re living in a time where you would be profiled as a pedophile and probably on the six o’clock news with a shiny new arrest record, instead of just a joyful woman that’s full of Jesus’ love.
So I just prayed for him instead.
This kid just radiated innocence and light — as so many individuals with disabilities do.
Whether it’s a physical disability or an intellectual one, I’ve witnessed those with handicaps in awe and in inspiration, as they, to quote Jerry Maguire, make me want to be a better person. They are determined and full of perseverance and genuine goodness that so many of us often lack. They are forgiving and trustworthy, and true in a way so many of us will never know.
And I was so full of anger at the thought of Donald Trump in that clip that we’ve all seen so many times, mocking an individual with a handicap simply because he outwitted and outsmarted him. He, the New York Times reporter, unlike the Trump organization, used his brain, his background, his talent, and his education to expose Donald Trump’s extortions, mistruths, and outright lies. The thought of that clip pierced my heart with such pain, that I was suddenly filled with the urge to knock on every door I see between here and November.
The country I love — America; the office I revere — the presidency; and a man who acts with such a nonexistent moral compass it’s sickening — fill me with such ache I could weep.
Think about a man like Donald Trump: billions of dollars, three beautiful bought-and-paid-for wives, everything he could ever want. Access to the best of everything in the world at his tee-tiny fingertips, and still —
the man is so small that he can’t take a slight. But even more nauseating is the fact that a man with everything at his disposal and everything he’s ever wanted, felt the need to mock a man who came into this world at a disadvantage from the very beginning. One who has had to fight from the very start.
He not only mocked a man with a disability, he did so on
on stage as a candidate for the most powerful position on the planet. He publicly ridiculed somebody who was weaker; who was smaller. Someone who has to struggle with simple acts like buttoning his shirt or holding an ink pen. A big, strong, tough “tell it like it is” billionaire mocked a man who has trouble with simple, daily tasks like tying a tie.
Donald Trump kicks off his insult by saying, “You’ve got to see this guy,” and then went on to demonstrate his handicap just in case we hadn’t seen it. There is no place for that in the schoolyard, let alone the Oval Office.
(You deserve to look at what you’re defending, Trump apologists.)
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If you support Donald Trump, if you cheerlead for Donald Trump, if you post pro- Donald Trump memes or articles on your social media, I cannot now, nor will I ever be your friend. God says I have to love you, he never said I have to like you. And I cannot — and will not — ever like that.
Anyone willing to make excuses for a presidential candidate mocking a physical disability, is not somebody that I want to know or be associated with — ever.
You are weak. You are inexcusable. And you are sad.
But thank God you are not the majority in this country. And come election night, those of us that care about all walks of life — particularly about those who struggle in ways we cannot imagine — are going to rise up to show the rest of the world that we are better than that as a nation.
You may win friends on your side of the aisle, Mr. Trump, by those who tolerate, appreciate, and enthusiastically participate in hate, commonness, and mean spiritedness, but you will not win in the eyes, the hearts, or the minds of this nation. Because as someone who came into this world with a disadvantage of my own, I know the way the American people — my friends, my neighbors, my classmates — treated me and welcomed me with open arms. And they are better — we, the American people are better — than you will ever be, Donald Trump.
I look forward to your Yuuuge loss in November.
Candi is a lifelong reader, writer, Democrat, and kid keeper. She lives in Middle Tennessee and rants coast to coast.