‘dued, as in subdued

Dear President Trump,

It’s only Saturday, but the day has the melancholy feel of a Sunday (tomorrow should be loads of fun). We had some sun and bits of blue sky earlier that have since given way to clouds and flat light. Laura and I sometimes joke with each other on days like this that we feel ‘dued, as in subdued, and that’s exactly how I feel – ‘dued. I know part of it’s that our daughter leaves this evening to go back to school and I’m already starting to miss her. Another part of my mood is that today is our brother-in-law and Laura’s brother’s wedding anniversary. All day I’ve felt like I’m maybe two-thirds here and one-third in Atlanta hovering around Laura’s brother trying to help him somehow be ok. I know intellectually that this is not one bit helpful, but he hasn’t seemed to want much contact today so it’s the best I can do.

The third thing that’s weighing heavy on my heart is that there was an armed guard posted outside one of the synagogues in our neighborhood this morning. When Laura and I took the dogs for a walk we parked across the street from it and saw the guy there on the sidewalk as the congregants went in and when we got back to the car at the end of the walk, he was up on the porch right by the door. We’ve parked there a dozen or more times on Saturday mornings when services were starting and never before have we seen a guard there, armed or otherwise.

I am certain that this is your doing.

You and the other hate mongers who masquerade as leaders have given white supremacists and nationalists license to take their vitriol offline into the real, physical world with real bullets aimed at real people. I know you’re not going to step up and do anything at all to correct the rhetoric or tone you’ve so carefully set these last two years. In fact, it’s far more likely that you’ll amp it up once the new Congress is sworn in since you’ll need every diversionary tactic in your arsenal to keep your base whipped up, confused, scared, and angry as the House begins to do its job of checking and balancing the Executive branch (i.e., you and yours). This is going to be one of those sucky, scary situations where things will get a lot worse before they get better.

May we all be safe.
May we all be happy to let everyone be.
May those who don’t know what to do with their fear and anger pause and breathe.
May we all wake up from this nightmare and get down to work.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson

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