by Karlyn Borysenko
As a Democrat for 20 years, I realized how out-of-touch my party is.
I think those of us on the left need to take a long look in the mirror and have an honest conversation about what’s going on.
If you had told me three years ago that I would ever attend a Donald
Trump rally, I would have laughed and assured you that was never going
to happen. Heck, if you had told me I would do it three months ago, I
probably would have done the same thing. So, how did I find myself among
11,000-plus Trump supporters in Manchester, New Hampshire? Believe it
or not, it all started with knitting.
You might not think of the knitting world as a particularly
political community, but you’d be wrong. Many knitters are active in
social justice communities and love to discuss the revolutionary role
knitters have played in our culture. I started noticing this about a
year ago, particularly on Instagram. I knit as a way to relax and escape
the drama of real life, not to further engage with it. But it was
impossible to ignore after roving gangs of online social justice
warriors started going after anyone in the knitting community who was
not lockstep in their ideology. Knitting stars on Instagram were bullied and mobbed by hundreds of people for seemingly innocuous offenses.
One man got mobbed so badly that he had a nervous breakdown and was
admitted to the hospital on suicide watch. Many things were not right
about the hatred, and witnessing the vitriol coming from those I had
aligned myself with politically was a massive wake-up call.
You see, I was one of those Democrats who considered anyone who
voted for Trump a racist. I thought they were horrible (yes, even
deplorable) and worked very hard to eliminate their voices from my
spaces by unfriending or blocking people who spoke about their support
of him, however minor their comments. I watched a lot of MSNBC, was
convinced that everything he had done was horrible, that he hated anyone
who wasn’t a straight white man, and that he had no redeeming
qualities.
But when I witnessed the amount of hate coming from the left in this
small, niche knitting community, I started to question everything. I
started making a proactive effort to break my echo chamber by listening
to voices I thought I would disagree with. I wanted to understand their
perspective, believing it would confirm that they were filled with hate
for anyone who wasn’t like them.
That turned out not to be the case. The more voices outside the left
that I listened to, the more I realized that these were not bad people.
They were not racists, nazis, or white supremacists. We had differences
of opinions on social and economic issues, but a difference of opinion
does not make your opponent inherently evil. And they could justify
their opinions using arguments, rather than the shouting and ranting I
saw coming from my side of the aisle.
I started to discover (or perhaps rediscover) the #WalkAway
movement. I had heard about #WalkAway when MSNBC told me it was fake and
a bunch of Russian bots. But then I started to meet real people who had
been Democrats and made the decision to leave because they could not
stand the way the left was behaving. I watched town halls they held with
different minority communities (all available in their entirety on YouTube),
and I saw sane, rational discussion from people of all different races,
backgrounds, orientations, and experiences. I joined the Facebook group
for the community and saw stories popping up daily of people sharing
why they are leaving the Democratic Party. This wasn’t fake. These
people are not Russian bots. Moreover, it felt like a breath of fresh
air. There was not universal agreement in this group — some were Trump
supporters, some weren’t — but they talked and shared their perspective
without shouting or rage or trying to cancel each other.
I started to question everything. How many stories had I been sold
that weren’t true? What if my perception of the other side is wrong? How
is it possible that half the country is overtly racist? Is it possible
that Trump derangement syndrome is a real thing, and had I been
suffering from it for the past three years?
And the biggest question of all was this: Did I hate Trump so much
that I wanted to see my country fail just to spite him and everyone who
voted for him?
Fast-forward to the New Hampshire primary, and we have all the
politicians running around the state making their case. I’ve seen almost
every Democratic candidate in person and noticed that their messages
were almost universally one of doom and gloom, not only focusing on the
obvious disagreements with Donald Trump, but also making sure to
emphasize that the country is a horribly racist place.
Now, I do believe there are very real issues when it comes to race
that we as a society have yet to reckon with. I believe that everyone
from every background of every gender should have equal access to
opportunities, and that no one is inherently more or less valuable or
worthy than anyone else. And while the 2017 protests in Charlottesville,
Virginia, led to a tragedy precipitated by real racists and real nazis
and real white supremacists, I started to see that those labels simply
don’t apply to most people who support Trump.
But with all of this, I was still reticent to even consider
attending a Trump event. I do not believe that Trump’s attitude is
worthy of the highest office in the land. I abhor his Twitter. I am
vehemently opposed to so many of his policies. But still, I wanted to
see for myself.
I’m not going to lie, I was nervous, so I thought I would start my
day in familiar territory: at an MSNBC live show that was taking place a
few blocks away from the rally. I decided to wear my red hat that looks
like a Trump hat but with one small difference — it says “Make Speech
Free Again”—as my small protest against cancel culture. I even got a photo with MSNBC host Ari Melber while I was wearing it, just for kicks.
The funny thing about that hat is that it’s completely open to
interpretation. When I wear it around left-leaning people, they think
I’m talking about the right. When I wear it around right-leaning folks,
they think I’m talking about the left. It’s a stark reminder of how much
our own perspectives and biases play into how we view the world.
In chatting with the folks at the taping, I casually said that I was
thinking about going over to the Trump rally. The first reaction they
had was a genuine fear for my safety. I had never seen people I didn’t
know so passionately urge me to avoid all those people. One woman told
me that those people were the lowest of the low. Another man told me
that he had gone to one of Trump’s rallies in the past and had been the
target of harassment by large muscle-bound men. Another woman offered me
her pepper spray. I assured them all that I thought I would be fine and
that I would get the heck out of dodge if I got nervous.
What they didn’t know is that they weren’t the only ones I had heard
from who were afraid. Some of my more right-leaning friends online
expressed genuine fear at my going, but not because they were afraid of
the attendees. They were afraid of people on the left violently
attacking attendees. This was one day after a man had run his car
through a Republican voter registration tent in Florida, and there was a
genuine fear that there would be a repeat, or that antifa would bus
people up from Boston for it. Just as I had assured those on the left, I
told them I thought I would be fine, because we don’t really have
antifa in New Hampshire.
But I’m not going to say it didn’t get to me a bit. When everyone
around you is nervous for your safety, it’s hard not to question if they
have a point. But it also made me more determined to see it through,
because it was a stark reminder that both sides view each other exactly
the same way. They are both afraid of the other side and what they are
capable of. I couldn’t help but think that if they could just see the
world through the lens of the other for a moment or two, it would be a
stark revelation that they don’t know as much as they think they do.
So, I headed over an hour and a half before the doors were scheduled
to open—which was four hours before Trump was set to take the stage—and
the line already stretched a mile away from the entrance to the arena.
As I waited, I chatted with the folks around me. And contrary to all the
fears expressed, they were so nice. I was not harassed or intimidated,
and I was never in fear of my safety even for a moment. These were
average, everyday people. They were veterans, schoolteachers, and small
business owners who had come from all over the place for the thrill of
attending this rally. They were upbeat and excited. In chatting, I even
let it slip that I was a Democrat. The reaction: “Good for you!
Welcome!”
Once we got inside, the atmosphere was jubilant. It was more like
attending a rock concert than a political rally. People were genuinely
enjoying themselves. Some were even dancing to music being played over
the loudspeakers. It was so different than any other political event I
had ever attended. Even the energy around Barack Obama in 2008 didn’t
feel like this.
I had attended an event with all the Democratic contenders just two
days prior in exactly the same arena, and the contrast was stark. First,
Trump completely filled the arena all the way up to the top. Even with
every major Democratic candidate in attendance the other night, and the
campaigns giving away free tickets, the Democrats did not do that. With
Trump, every single person was unified around a singular goal. With the
Democrats, the audience booed over candidates they didn’t like and got
into literal shouting matches with each other. With Trump, there was a
genuinely optimistic view of the future. With the Democrats, it was doom
and gloom. With Trump, there was a genuine feeling of pride of being an
American. With the Democrats, they emphasized that the country was a
racist place from top to bottom.
Now, Trump is always going to present the best case he can. And yes,
he lies. This is provable. But the strength of this rally wasn’t about
the facts and figures. It was a group of people who felt like they had
someone in their corner, who would fight for them. Some people say,
“Well, obviously they’re having a great time. They’re in a cult.”
I don’t think that’s true. The reality is that many people I spoke to
do disagree with Trump on things. They don’t always like his attitude.
They wish he wouldn’t tweet so much. People who are in cults don’t
question their leaders. The people I spoke with did, but the pros in
their eyes far outweighed the cons. They don’t love him because they
think he’s perfect. They love him despite his flaws, because they
believe he has their back.
As I left the rally—walking past thousands of people who were
watching it on a giant monitor outside the arena because they couldn’t
get in—I knew there was no way Trump would lose in November. Absolutely
no way. I truly believe that it doesn’t matter who the Democrats
nominate: Trump is going to trounce them. If you don’t believe me,
attend one of his rallies and see for yourself. Don’t worry, they really
won’t hurt you.
Today, I voted in the New Hampshire Democratic Primary for Pete
Buttigieg. I genuinely feel that Pete would be great for this country,
and maybe he’ll have his opportunity in the future. But tomorrow, I’ll
be changing my voter registration from Democrat to Independent and
walking away from the party I’ve spent the past 20 years in to sit in
the middle for a while. There are extremes in both parties that I am
uncomfortable with, but I also fundamentally believe that most people on
both sides are good, decent human beings who want the best for the
country and have dramatic disagreements on how to get there. But until
we start seeing each other as human beings, there will be no bridging
the divide. I refuse to be a part of the divisiveness any longer. I
refuse to hate people I don’t know simply because they choose to vote
for someone else. If we’re going to heal the country, we have to start
taking steps toward one another rather than away.
I think the Democrats have an ass-kicking coming to them in
November, and I think most of them will be utterly shocked when it
happens, because they’re existing in an echo chamber that is not
reflective of the broader reality. I hope it’s a wake-up call that
causes them to take a long look in the mirror and really ask themselves
how they got here. Maybe then they’ll start listening. I tend to doubt
it, but I can hope.
* * *
Image from The Epoch Times
Source: https://www.frontpagemag.com/fpm/2020/02/after-attending-trump-rally-i-realized-democrats-frontpage-editors/
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