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Dinner Table Politics

TW: mentions of homophobia, racism, fatphobia, xenophobia, sexism, transphobia, ableism, and family trauma



Gavin and I went for a drive this Thanksgiving morning. It’s a cathartic sort of ritual we have been embarking on during most major holidays, weekends, and long evenings since we were kids. Our mom is the one who started the tradition, and it was born out of poverty. We couldn’t afford to go do something, and gas money was the next best sacrifice, and so we did drives through pastures and rolling fields, along dirt roads we’d never seen and beyond town lines into the countryside of forgotten landscapes. It was a magical experience then—seven years old, face pressed to the fogged glass of the backseat window in our minivan, watching as trees blurred by us—and it is still to this day.


It was a lazy day otherwise—a nap in midafternoon, cooking our vegetarian feast above a tiny stove, followed by television in our favorite chairs. If I had to use a word to describe the day, I would say it was calm.


I’m not so naïve as to think that everyone’s day went like this. I know that today, millions of people around the country sat down with people who are politically different from themselves to enjoy a meal together. In theory…it sounds like the perfect opportunity to reach across the wide aisle between us, to join hands and find common ground between those who would otherwise be at odds. For folks belonging to marginalized groups, it would be nice to imagine that our bigoted relatives could change, that hateful friends and closeminded acquaintances could find new understanding of our experiences. Hell, we might even learn something from them too! It’s a beautiful world that we create in our minds when we think like this.


Realistically, this kind of reasoning is a bit too simplistic for the issues at hand.


I’ve always found the phrasing when it comes specifically to politics to be…reductive? Political stances are taken as harmless interests, a secondary to someone’s personality or morals, and often, they’re dismissed as inconsequential when it comes to building relationships with people. You’ll find countless commentators anytime someone severs ties with someone politically different than them, and they all say virtually the same thing. Why would you stop being someone’s friend just because they disagree with you on politics? Isn’t that intolerant and fruitless? Aren’t you defying the principle of togetherness by creating an “us” and “them” scenario? Maybe you’re just being dramatic. Maybe you’re looking for conflict.


But this notion that politics are somehow divorced from real-life is gravely untrue. A person’s political views, whatever they may be, are intimately tied to their definitions of justice, morality, humanity, and interconnectedness. The gravity of someone’s political stances and affiliations cannot be overstated, especially when that person is interacting with people of marginalized groups closely.


So, today I have been considering those marginalized people who sat down with others from opposite political parties for a meal today, and I’ve been admiring their courage. Their dedication. Their strength. And yet…I’ve also mourned for their spirits and hearts today, because I know they’re surely facing a gamut of betrayal and critical voices from all sides.


On one side of the camp—those that oppose you “politically”. They present themselves as cousins, aunts, siblings, and friends. Likely, they support the current POTUS (although it’s not necessarily a requirement for bigotry) and they may even present a good face to you most of the time. But still. They make remarks that gay people are getting special rights, that the immigrants are taking over, that women ask for the abuse they receive, that disabled people are too bothersome, that plus-size people are gross, and black people are dangerous. The list could go on forever, but their vitriol is unending. Whether it’s muttered between passing the green beans or shouted across a table, the message is clear. Whatever kind of marginalized you are—female, transgender, POC, immigrant, disabled, plus-sized—you do not belong. You do not deserve rights. You are in the way.


In the neighboring camp, you’ll find well-meaning folks who want nothing more than unity. They desire a world in which differing opinions and lifestyles can coexist. In their fight for this, they often step on marginalized people, forcing them into dangerous and unfair positions. Their pressure to make sure that everyone gets along unfortunately creates an environment in which the marginalized people must be the “bigger person”. They are expected to accept abuse after abuse, and instead of calling these out for categorical attacks they are, they’re expected to be patient, understanding, and gentle with their abusers. Racists, homophobes, and xenophobes are treated as people with “different opinions” that shouldn’t keep you from being friends.


Naturally, these ideas of unity are nice. They’re soothing in a world that is otherwise full of so much division.


However, it is important to remember that division is not always something that can be cured by unifying. Division across moral boundaries and human rights implications is not an area in which “holding hands across the aisle” is going to work. This sort of approach only leads to the compromise of life, equity, and justice for the disadvantaged. If one person thinks transgender people don’t deserve healthcare, and another thinks they do, a compromise is an ineffective, unjust, half-baked solution. It’s short sighted, and frankly, a bit depressing that victims are expected to hold hands and sing kumbaya with those that actively fight against their existence.


All this to say—politics do not exist in a vacuum. For those of us that are fighting for our rights, politics are intimately tied into everything we do. Our education, employment, housing, voting, and health. Shaming people who will not engage with the opposing political party out of safety and sanity concerns is cruel. If you know a marginalized someone who is not participating in Thanksgiving, who won’t talk to their family, who will not be friends with Trump supporters…then leave them alone and respect their right to protect themselves. Don’t push them to understand those who despise them, or compromise with people who view them as subordinate.


Your goal is unity—mine too. But I won’t hold hands with hateful people to uphold an illusion of peace and togetherness. If it’s division that it takes to bring about change, then it’s division that we need. So, to those of you that skipped Thanksgiving, or gave your family the middle finger, or had to sit through another racist diatribe…I’m sorry. You deserve better, and I promise you, we will keep fighting for it. Hang in there, friend, and remember, you don’t owe friendship to anyone.


*Disclaimer-- My views are obviously not those of all marginalized people. I encourage you to speak with other people of differing circumstances to see how they feel about the same topic. I also want it to be clearly stated that I absolutely support any movement that desires increased conversation surrounding politics, human rights issues, and the environment. It's how that conversation is postured that I find issue with.




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