From Dad's perspective...
There is sadness, fear, disappointment, and a sense that our country is still full of racism, homophobia, xenophobia, sexism. My Dad, a Trump voter (come on - you cannot be surprised at that - he has only voted Dem in Presidential elections once that I know of), was at first proud his "guy" won. Then, after realizing his beloved grandson was so very worried, concerned, upset and angry, started to think. He thought and thought, about the worries his grandson and I voiced about our President - Elect, about the lack of progress this vote pointed to, about the fear that we have regarding the legitimization of difference and prejudice, about who will be blamed and treated as less then in the coming years.
My Dad is an old guy. He's come a long way over the years for an old white guy, who worked at 1 job for over 35 years. Dad put up with a lot from his wife and daughters, heck even the pets were female at some points in our family life. There is really only one problem I have with the way he raised us - two of us were well endowed at a young age. Dad had Mom tell us we could NOT run after we had to get bras...I, unfortunately listened for many years. My sister never listened to him anyway.
Dad worked with folks from all walks of life. I've written about this before. He supported my little sister when she wanted to play Little League (first girls in Stratford), and coached the team. He supported education at a level past high school (hey - that was a big deal even in the 1970's, people). He supported our marriage, after his initial hesitancy over the years ("don't tell me that's your boyfriend?" "don't tell me you're going to the Prom with him" "don't tell me you're going to marry him?" "don't tell me you're going to have children with him"). Dad put up with shit from some of his "friends", in the North and in the South. More shit than he will ever tell us.
Dad also grew up with parents who lived in the 'hood over on Newfield Avenue with folks of all backgrounds and ethnicities, moved to Stratford...one of his dear friends in high school came with the football and basketball team with them to NYC and a bartender said the "colored guy gotta go, but I'll serve you"...they all left and found another bar.
We called Dad "Archie Bunker" at times, which fit his actions, but not his inner self. He has come to terms with the changing world, may not always use the PC terms, may not always say it the right way. He will sometimes say he missed things the way they were (till we remind him of some of the bad things in those days). We love him, despite his actions, because he is empathetic, and continues to do his best to occasionally open up the door to his mind.
I've really tried, as we've talked the past 2 days, to see the world from his view, and to understand what he has said. When I said today, with tears in my eyes, to my Dad, the one who protected us from bullies, and made things better almost always, "Dad, what about us? When will it be for Women? Why?" and he said "It's still a Man's world, you know that", he said it with the most sad eyes, shaking his head. I was ok with that. It was the best response he could have said.
We continued to talk, as his concern about our son's seriousness was real. I explained that being pulled over by the police for being black is still a "thing", that his grandson has seen and heard the racist comments from his acquaintances, many of whom just don't get it. This continued racism wears a person down, we know. That his grandaughter in Louisiana is worried about the empowerment of racists who are already quite in your face there, is worried about her own livelihood because she remembers what Republican Presidents have meant for her family's finances. I explained, again, that his family is not white, we are diverse, we are straight, we are gay, we are black, we are female, we are handicapped. We have Muslims in our friendship circles, we know undocumented people, we feel their pain and their heartache. I reminded him what events are like at our home.
Dad looked at me, talked a bit about the history of these prejudices and beliefs (like I didn't already know...), then said, "I'm sorry. Maybe we didn't do enough to fix the country when we were in charge. Maybe this is our fault. But we have to give him a chance, you know."
I explained the fear that is in our guts, that has created this sense of dismay and bereavement. I tell him I see the glass as half empty for the first time in many years. I looked Dad in the eyes and saw the door to his mind opening, saw the door stop holding it open. That's what I wanted for him...to think about what this means for the rest of us, to #staywoke.
Then the phone rang, Dad was needed to do a pick up of his grandaughter for a doctor's appointment. Off he went to take care of his family, because that's what he does now, as best as he can.
My Dad is an old guy. He's come a long way over the years for an old white guy, who worked at 1 job for over 35 years. Dad put up with a lot from his wife and daughters, heck even the pets were female at some points in our family life. There is really only one problem I have with the way he raised us - two of us were well endowed at a young age. Dad had Mom tell us we could NOT run after we had to get bras...I, unfortunately listened for many years. My sister never listened to him anyway.
Dad worked with folks from all walks of life. I've written about this before. He supported my little sister when she wanted to play Little League (first girls in Stratford), and coached the team. He supported education at a level past high school (hey - that was a big deal even in the 1970's, people). He supported our marriage, after his initial hesitancy over the years ("don't tell me that's your boyfriend?" "don't tell me you're going to the Prom with him" "don't tell me you're going to marry him?" "don't tell me you're going to have children with him"). Dad put up with shit from some of his "friends", in the North and in the South. More shit than he will ever tell us.
Dad also grew up with parents who lived in the 'hood over on Newfield Avenue with folks of all backgrounds and ethnicities, moved to Stratford...one of his dear friends in high school came with the football and basketball team with them to NYC and a bartender said the "colored guy gotta go, but I'll serve you"...they all left and found another bar.
We called Dad "Archie Bunker" at times, which fit his actions, but not his inner self. He has come to terms with the changing world, may not always use the PC terms, may not always say it the right way. He will sometimes say he missed things the way they were (till we remind him of some of the bad things in those days). We love him, despite his actions, because he is empathetic, and continues to do his best to occasionally open up the door to his mind.
I've really tried, as we've talked the past 2 days, to see the world from his view, and to understand what he has said. When I said today, with tears in my eyes, to my Dad, the one who protected us from bullies, and made things better almost always, "Dad, what about us? When will it be for Women? Why?" and he said "It's still a Man's world, you know that", he said it with the most sad eyes, shaking his head. I was ok with that. It was the best response he could have said.
We continued to talk, as his concern about our son's seriousness was real. I explained that being pulled over by the police for being black is still a "thing", that his grandson has seen and heard the racist comments from his acquaintances, many of whom just don't get it. This continued racism wears a person down, we know. That his grandaughter in Louisiana is worried about the empowerment of racists who are already quite in your face there, is worried about her own livelihood because she remembers what Republican Presidents have meant for her family's finances. I explained, again, that his family is not white, we are diverse, we are straight, we are gay, we are black, we are female, we are handicapped. We have Muslims in our friendship circles, we know undocumented people, we feel their pain and their heartache. I reminded him what events are like at our home.
Dad looked at me, talked a bit about the history of these prejudices and beliefs (like I didn't already know...), then said, "I'm sorry. Maybe we didn't do enough to fix the country when we were in charge. Maybe this is our fault. But we have to give him a chance, you know."
I explained the fear that is in our guts, that has created this sense of dismay and bereavement. I tell him I see the glass as half empty for the first time in many years. I looked Dad in the eyes and saw the door to his mind opening, saw the door stop holding it open. That's what I wanted for him...to think about what this means for the rest of us, to #staywoke.
Then the phone rang, Dad was needed to do a pick up of his grandaughter for a doctor's appointment. Off he went to take care of his family, because that's what he does now, as best as he can.
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