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Friends abroad want me to explain Donald Trump, but I can't Friends abroad want me to explain Donald Trump, but I can't
(6 months later)
Right now, I am not very proud to be an American. In fact, I’m embarrassed. Perhaps I’m not the only person who feels this way. Following recent trip to the Middle East, former secretary of state Madeleine Albright remarked: “Trying to explain what’s going on to foreigners is hard, but they’re looking at us as if we’ve lost our mind.”Right now, I am not very proud to be an American. In fact, I’m embarrassed. Perhaps I’m not the only person who feels this way. Following recent trip to the Middle East, former secretary of state Madeleine Albright remarked: “Trying to explain what’s going on to foreigners is hard, but they’re looking at us as if we’ve lost our mind.”
Me too, Madam Secretary. Friends from abroad are also asking me to to help them to understand what’s happening here, and I also don’t have a good answer.Me too, Madam Secretary. Friends from abroad are also asking me to to help them to understand what’s happening here, and I also don’t have a good answer.
This is the first time I’ve lived in the US during a presidential election since 1996, and each day’s new headlines make me feel more afraid of the questions I’ll get from the friends I made in the years that I lived in Canada, the UK and Germany. Questions like: “What?” And “How?” And “When are you coming back to live in Europe?” (This last one I can answer: 9 November.)This is the first time I’ve lived in the US during a presidential election since 1996, and each day’s new headlines make me feel more afraid of the questions I’ll get from the friends I made in the years that I lived in Canada, the UK and Germany. Questions like: “What?” And “How?” And “When are you coming back to live in Europe?” (This last one I can answer: 9 November.)
At the start of 2016, I visited London, where I spent most of a decade, and in the course of many conversations about America, I tried to boil my thoughts down to salient points like “I never thought I could feel empathy for establishment Republicans. Or any Republicans” or “Bernie Sanders can’t win, even though I very much admire him, not only because of his radical agenda to bring the Democrats so far to the left that they’re just a little more right-wing than the British Conservative Party, but because he looks quite a lot like my dad.”At the start of 2016, I visited London, where I spent most of a decade, and in the course of many conversations about America, I tried to boil my thoughts down to salient points like “I never thought I could feel empathy for establishment Republicans. Or any Republicans” or “Bernie Sanders can’t win, even though I very much admire him, not only because of his radical agenda to bring the Democrats so far to the left that they’re just a little more right-wing than the British Conservative Party, but because he looks quite a lot like my dad.”
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Let me tell you about the last time I felt like this: it was 2009 and I went on a press junket to Las Vegas with five British journalists. I had never been to Las Vegas before, but every time we encountered something egregious – an unhinged Elvis impersonator, a sunscreen-themed restaurant, Hugh Hefner’s creaky rotating bed – the Brits would look to me, the only American in the group, for explanation. “I have no idea!” I cried, again and again, while my companions cast quizzical glances over the rims of their gallon-sized alcoholic smoothies: “Just because I am from America doesn’t mean that I am responsible for this!”Let me tell you about the last time I felt like this: it was 2009 and I went on a press junket to Las Vegas with five British journalists. I had never been to Las Vegas before, but every time we encountered something egregious – an unhinged Elvis impersonator, a sunscreen-themed restaurant, Hugh Hefner’s creaky rotating bed – the Brits would look to me, the only American in the group, for explanation. “I have no idea!” I cried, again and again, while my companions cast quizzical glances over the rims of their gallon-sized alcoholic smoothies: “Just because I am from America doesn’t mean that I am responsible for this!”
Equally: I am not responsible for Donald Trump, or the people who are supporting Donald Trump, or the people who are supporting those other rightwing guys who are awful, but who I guess are better than Donald Trump. I’m not even responsible for either of the people who are likely to run against Donald Trump when Donald Trump is nominated to run as the actual presidential candidate in the actual general election. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to help folks from overseas make sense of it.Equally: I am not responsible for Donald Trump, or the people who are supporting Donald Trump, or the people who are supporting those other rightwing guys who are awful, but who I guess are better than Donald Trump. I’m not even responsible for either of the people who are likely to run against Donald Trump when Donald Trump is nominated to run as the actual presidential candidate in the actual general election. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to help folks from overseas make sense of it.
While living abroad, I was often the go-to person for American political intel among my friends. I dropped knowledge with the alacrity of someone who read the coverage of her own country’s elections in the newspapers of another country. If you wanted a recap of the latest BBC analysis of American politics, I was your woman. Emigrating from the US also meant that I could be selective about my association. When George W Bush was elected, I shrugged and said: “Well, now you know why I don’t live in America!” When Obama was elected for the first time in 2008, I was more than happy to accept congratulations and hugs from strangers who heard my accent and shouted “Barack!” at me from across the street.While living abroad, I was often the go-to person for American political intel among my friends. I dropped knowledge with the alacrity of someone who read the coverage of her own country’s elections in the newspapers of another country. If you wanted a recap of the latest BBC analysis of American politics, I was your woman. Emigrating from the US also meant that I could be selective about my association. When George W Bush was elected, I shrugged and said: “Well, now you know why I don’t live in America!” When Obama was elected for the first time in 2008, I was more than happy to accept congratulations and hugs from strangers who heard my accent and shouted “Barack!” at me from across the street.
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No longer. Now that I live here I can’t opt in and out with ease. There is no escape from this particular national nightmare. Maybe that’s why, in conjunction with my lack of pride, I feel a real, and unprecedented, sensitivity. I understand that there’s much entertainment to be gleaned from a election narrative that’s somewhere between Shakespeare and George Lucas, starring a Bond villain. But for me, the fun has stopped, and I’m coming to resent my friends’ continued amusement.No longer. Now that I live here I can’t opt in and out with ease. There is no escape from this particular national nightmare. Maybe that’s why, in conjunction with my lack of pride, I feel a real, and unprecedented, sensitivity. I understand that there’s much entertainment to be gleaned from a election narrative that’s somewhere between Shakespeare and George Lucas, starring a Bond villain. But for me, the fun has stopped, and I’m coming to resent my friends’ continued amusement.
“We are the world’s greatest democracy,” Albright maintained in her remarks on Wednesday; a questionable assertion, always, but especially now. So why do I keep trying to defend it? I never wanted to be the American who sobs, ‘Not funny, guys!’ in response to rightful critiques of my troubled, chaotic, cruel, lovable homeland.“We are the world’s greatest democracy,” Albright maintained in her remarks on Wednesday; a questionable assertion, always, but especially now. So why do I keep trying to defend it? I never wanted to be the American who sobs, ‘Not funny, guys!’ in response to rightful critiques of my troubled, chaotic, cruel, lovable homeland.
But here I am, shutting down conversations with a sulky “you just don’t understand.” Responding with a stony face to objectively hilarious jokes. Muting friends on social media because I don’t want to hear their opinions about a risible election in a country where they don’t live and where they can’t vote. Which just happens to be a country where I do both. “This election is not an amusing hobby!” I want to say to them: ‘It is my real life!’ As if anyone needed further confirmation that Americans are losing our minds.But here I am, shutting down conversations with a sulky “you just don’t understand.” Responding with a stony face to objectively hilarious jokes. Muting friends on social media because I don’t want to hear their opinions about a risible election in a country where they don’t live and where they can’t vote. Which just happens to be a country where I do both. “This election is not an amusing hobby!” I want to say to them: ‘It is my real life!’ As if anyone needed further confirmation that Americans are losing our minds.