for the 52% of white women who voted for trump
writing exercises for a more honest future
Dear fellow white women, specifically the ones who voted for trump:
We’ve had to have a lot of reckonings over the past decade. And it’s time for another one. Women of color and queer folks, you can skip this newsletter if you want. Or, send it to someone you know that you think could use it.
If you’re receiving this from someone you love, you are likely one of the 52% of women who look like me—as in, white—and voted for Trump.
And he won, fair and square. Congratulations.
So here’s what I ask of you. I don’t think it’s a lot considering the consequences of this election. We’ve already told you the importance of reproductive rights, and protections for queer and trans people, and preserving democracy. But you all made a choice: the economy and immigration crackdowns mattered more to you.
You made it clear with your choice what you value, even if you won’t admit to it out loud. And I cannot do anything about that. Because I believe in democracy. I’d like to believe that you made a thoughtful decision before casting your vote. So you thought it through, and you were OK with the catastrophic consequences others will endure.
What I am writing here is not meant to guilt you, or shame you. Far more articulate folks out here are already doing that.
This newsletter is asking you to hold yourself accountable when the inevitable happens—the increase in deaths during pregnancy, the hate crimes, the authoritarianism. This newsletter is asking you to start being honest about what is motivating you. Because those of us whose rights are being stripped away? We are owed your honesty, if nothing fucking else.
The work I am asking of you now requires imagination and discomfort. But you are an adult white woman, who moves through the world with a specific amount of privilege, just like I am. You can sit in this discomfort. If I can, you can.
I want you to take out a notebook and/or find a piece of paper. Do NOT do this writing prompt on your computer or phone. We may not have the same politics, but I don’t want you in any more danger than you need to be. In fact, I recommend you shred, burn, or destroy your responses when you’re done. Believe it or not, I care about your safety (even if you cannot say the same for me).
I want you to spend AT LEAST ten minutes on each of the prompts I’ve written below. Come back to this multiple times if you need to until you finish every prompt. They will be difficult to fulfill on an emotional level. And that’s the fucking point. Honestly, you should do all of them in one go, but hey: baby steps.
The point here is not to perform guilt, or feel shame. The point is to take accountability for your choice. To understand the gravity of the consequences. To begin the process of owning your vote and the ramifications of it. Because you’re going to need to do that when the devastating consequences of this party taking power begin to manifest.
No one has to read your answer but you. So you might as well be radically honest.
This first one is a two part-er.
The first part: for five minutes, write about the last time you felt vulnerable. This can be physically, emotionally, spiritually, or psychologically vulnerable. What made you feel that way? Who made you feel that way? What did that vulnerability feel like in your body (as in, where did you feel it? A lump in your throat, a stomachache, a pounding heartbeat?)
Then, for the second part: write an honest answer to the following, again for five minutes: why did you vote the way that you did? Why was that choice more important than the humanity of a queer or trans person? Why was it more important than the rights of an immigrant, both legal and illegal? Did you consider anyone’s vulnerability but your own? Why was their fear less important than yours? Be blunt. Be radically honest with yourself, because if you’re not, what’s the point?
Imagine one of your dearest friends, or a sister, or a niece, or a cousin, dies because they were denied reproductive health care. (If you need to picture a specific scenario: this person was pregnant with a child they really, really wanted but they spontaneously miscarried and multiple doctors denied her care for fear of jail time.) Write a letter to addressed to this person’s parent or spouse explaining why you did not vote for the candidate who could protect her. What were you thinking about in the voting booth? What specifically did you think was more important than her life? Do not make excuses, or deflect, or assign blame, or invoke religious beliefs. Take ownership of your choice while also apologizing for their loss. This will be immensely hard—it is meant to be.
Write your definition of “family values.” This is not what counts as a family—I don’t care about mom, dad, blood relation, etc. This is also not about describing what a family LOOKS like physically. I want you to articulate the values you associate with family in as honest and true a way as you can and define each one. Then, I need you to answer: How do you know if other people hold them? Why do other people have to hold your family values the same way that you do AT ALL in order to be worthy of protection?
Now, hold in your mind the image of your granddaughter fifty years from now. Write her a letter about your choice during this election and why you felt that her rights mattered less than your wallet right now. Explain why unsubstantiated lies about immigrants as well as trans kids mattered more than her safety. Don’t sugarcoat it, or pretend she’s living in an American utopia. We both know America won’t be great fifty years from now, just like it wasn’t fifty years ago. Be candid and clear in your reasoning. Her life might depend on it.
