In October 2016 my 15- year-old daughter was dying. That was also the month that Trump was campaigning hard in his bid to win against Clinton. My daughter wasn’t into in politics, but she watched the news and debates with us that month with a modicum of interest. At the time, we thought America was on the cusp of having its first female president.
At one point we were watching news coverage of a Trump rally in Nevada and my breath caught in my throat when Trump urged terminally ill people to vote for him.
Trump said, “ I don’t care how sick you are. I don’t care if you just came back from the doctor and he gave you the worst possible prognosis, meaning it’s over. Doesn’t matter. Hang out till November 8. Get out and vote.”
I don’t care how sick you are. The words made my heart hurt. Did he know that real dying people — even children — might hear those words? Was it some kind of joke to him?
My daughter, to her credit, rolled her eyes and asked us to stop watching shows about politics. But Trump’s thoughtless words stuck with me. He was so callous, so crass, and so devoid of self awareness. His lack of compassion and ability to cause pain without any sense of responsibility, struck me as deeply evil. Of course, this was only the beginning. We all know how the election story ends. My biggest fear is that we’re doomed to repeat it in November.