About 15 years ago, when I was a spunky teenager, I would often find myself embroiled in political and religious discussions with anyone who felt like they could go toe-to-toe with me. To say that I lack social graces is an understatement. Even now I find little wrong with asking someone who they’re voting for or why they hold particular religious or political ideas.
During my time living in Tennessee, I was often quieted. I didn’t speak my mind about issues because I would often feel as if I, personally, was under attack. It never quite felt like information-sharing between two opposing ideologies; almost always the other party was set to dismantle or discredit my person, rather than my argument. This is still true.
I’ve returned to Nashville briefly, only to find myself facing the same sets of people – but I am slightly better armed this time. But that fact is moot, it really doesn’t matter. I am a woman, a feminist, and a bit left of center – so people may think that it’s easy to take me on. It’s easy for a white, middle-aged, middle-class man to assume that I am angry when I contend that Trump is misogynistic, racist, foul-mouthed hypocrite – when really, all I am is impassioned.
I am passionate about embracing feminism and womanhood; I am passionate about encouraging individual growth and breaking glass ceilings; I am passionate about equality across the board; I am passionate about compassion, about ensuring that we all are given the same opportunity to reach our potential; and I’m passionate about ensuring the world my children grow up in is a fairer, more tolerant one.
I’m not trying to change people set in their ways; I’m only trying to be heard, so that if anything someone, anyone can understand that there is more than one perspective out there and that whoever is chosen to lead our country embraces all of our different paths of life. It’s important for all peoples to be represented in government; I, for the life of me, cannot see how Trump is that person.