By Emily Jenab
Donald Trump is the physical manifestation of a unique brand of modern racism that has been festering within the Republican Party for years – cumulating, now, in their very own monster. He is the screaming id of our nation; a leader who has cemented himself through an explicitly discriminatory campaign, that at all at once is anti-women, anti-Hispanic, anti-immigrant, and anti-Muslim.
Trump promises to make America great again, cognizant, of course, of the fact that for many years our country was only great for white, able-bodied, cis men. He is a palpably scary force in that he provides a sense of legitimacy to the darkest corners of our society. He seems to revel in the production of it all: removing people of color from his rallies, and calling for the “good old days” when punches could be thrown, continuously turning to incendiary tactics.
When I say I fear Trump, I am not speaking of him as a person. He seems weak; sometimes out of his realm. I am speaking about his pervasive force – his inevitable promotion of violence. I am speaking as the daughter of immigrants, living in a mixed body. I am afraid of a future where Trump is president; one where racism is considered legitimate policy, where our leader says things like “Islam hates us.” I speak to my queer friends, to my disabled friends, my undocumented friends, and the same fear is reflected back to me.
Trump, to people like us, does not mean flippant remarks about moving to Canada.
The views, opinions and positions expressed by these authors and blogs are theirs and do not necessarily represent that of the Bioethics Research Library and Kennedy Institute of Ethics or Georgetown University.