I wore this shirt, as we approached a man who was writing something on the dusty window of his truck. "Oh," I thought, "He's leaving a message for someone." I was right: the message was for me. TRUMP 2020, it said.
I wore this shirt as I made direct eye contact and smiled at him. In the very next parked vehicle, in a maroon minivan, a woman called out to me, "Excuse me, may I ask you a question?" I wore this shirt, as I answered, "Of course."
She asked me her question, but she wasn't really asking me, because she already knew the answer to her very own question, "So about your shirt...what does it mean? Are you Pro Trump?"
I paused and saw where she was trying to lead me. The truck writing guy stood on the sidewalk behind us, arms folded across his chest, like a bully on the school yard.
I paused and saw where she was trying to lead me. The truck writing guy stood on the sidewalk behind us, arms folded across his chest, like a bully on the school yard.
I wore this shirt as I calmly inhaled, and gently, but unwavering, answered, "I'm all about love."
She looked at me befuddled, head cocked sideways. I wasn't adding any fuel to her fire. I was actively choosing not to engage in the shit storm that could possibly ensue, as my 7 year old and Black Lab waited on stand by. She wanted more, and obviously, was not prepared for my reply. She continued to look at me, quizzically.
She looked at me befuddled, head cocked sideways. I wasn't adding any fuel to her fire. I was actively choosing not to engage in the shit storm that could possibly ensue, as my 7 year old and Black Lab waited on stand by. She wanted more, and obviously, was not prepared for my reply. She continued to look at me, quizzically.
So I added, "You see, Michelle Obama said this." There wasn't but a moment before she unloaded, "Oh God, I can't stand those guys. I hate all of them. They make me crazy!" I wore this shirt as I thought, she is full of angst and spite just from my very presence...enough to stop an at-home mom walking her seven year old home from school.
I wore this shirt, as I gently leaned back away from her car, and said, "Well, have a wonderful day." I walked away from the scene of the crime feeling like someone had deflated my balloon. Like she hated me too, because essentially, that was what this perfect stranger was telling me even though we were just that: perfect strangers.
I wore this shirt, as I drifted home, trying to have a "teachable moment" with Charlotte. I explained that "trump" is not just the last name of our President, but it has another meaning: to win over. When folks have anger or are disrespectful towards us, we stand in our power, and own our truth by being honest, but kind and respectful. I asked Charlie, "And how did Mama react?" I wore this shirt, as my daughter answered, "You showed her kindness Mama. You showed her love."
I wore this shirt as I stood in my kitchen and thought, we cannot use blanket statements like "them" and "they", and "hate" and expect to truly see and hear one another. I bet truck writing guy and maroon minivan woman and I are far more alike than we are different. And suddenly, I was overcome with sadness. When will be able to come together?
I wore this shirt as I wiped my eyes, and decided I will not be demeaned. Or belittled. Or bullied. Or made to feel inferior.
I wore this shirt as my daughter witnessed: love wins every God Damn time. And I will continue to teach my daughters this, through my words, but most importantly, through my actions.
I wore this shirt as my daughter witnessed: love wins every God Damn time. And I will continue to teach my daughters this, through my words, but most importantly, through my actions.
And I wore this shirt, as I gave myself permission to purchase more shirts :)
