A Holiday Apart: In Defense of a Solitary Thanksgiving

The first post-election holiday

When a family member of mine hadn’t reached out by the Friday after the election, I pretty much knew they had voted for Trump. I had to call anyway, just to be sure.

I set off on a walk (I’m always on a walk) and dialed their number, hoping I was wrong.

But once they picked up the phone, they spoke in a nervous stream of words so fast they hit me like a firehose. I couldn’t get a word in, which was by design. After a minute of talking at me so quickly that they barely breathed – never mentioning the election that had happened just three days before – they tried to hang up.

“Well, that’s all my news!” they announced in a too-chipper voice.

Not so fast.

“Just one thing,” I said. “Did you vote for him?”

Silence.

Then “Who, president Trump?”

And I had my answer.

If it feels like a violation to know that millions of your fellow Americans voted for a fraudster/felon/rapist/conman, try coming to terms with the fact that a family member did. Not just your crazy uncle thrice removed – but someone you love, someone who helped make you who you are, who instilled your values and morals and respect for humanity.

It’s a mind-bender, and a heart-breaker.

I’ve written about my complicated relationship with my late Rush Limbaugh-loving father, but he’s not the only Republican in the family.

And so here we are, days before Thanksgiving, nursing open wounds from an election that upended millions of families like mine.

That we have elections mere weeks before mandatory family holidays is cruel.

The first time I wrote a post-election Thanksgiving holiday post, it was 2016 and the world was going all topsy-turvy. There was cautious optimism that Trump could be “controlled,” and we could tell he was as shocked as we were that he had eked out an electoral college win. It seemed that – even dripping with misogyny and racism (which Republicans are always able to overlook so long as someone will promise them tax cuts) – he would be a relatively typical Republican president.

That we lacked direct experience of the depths of Trump’s depravity meant that while I winced at the thought of family members voting for him, it didn’t change my opinion of them. After all, I thought, they hadn’t seen what I had seen, hadn’t read what I had read, and I could forgive them for having a different view.

Frankly, as with Democrats nationwide both then and now, I absorbed their faults as my own. When I learned they didn’t know much about Trump before they voted for him, I considered that somehow my fault – for not having better educated them (against their will).

Like a guilt sponge, I sopped up their ignorance.

And so it was easier for me to look at them over a holiday table and think – these are still the same people I’ve always loved. These are the same people who gave me a heart so big and full that it can hold them close even if they struggle against it.

But not this time. This time, this election, is different.

We don’t just have an inkling of how Trump will behave. We have a track record of his past coupled with the Project 2025 playbook for his future. We have 34 felony convictions, so many allegations of sexual assault I can’t track them all, and direct evidence of his grifting and traitorous behavior. He led an insurrection, centered his campaign on racism and cruelty, and promised to go after the “enemy from within” – a crusade against people like you and me who won’t let MAGA go unopposed.

This was not a typical election. We were not debating the finer points of policy. This election was about decency and democracy and humanity. The stakes were clear; the information was out in the open and part of our lived experience. Along with millions of other people, I shouted from the rooftops that the danger was looming.

In that context, not understanding the stakes wasn’t a lack of information; it was willful ignorance.

But, heeding the lessons of 2016, I didn’t rely on outside messages breaking through. I sent text messages explaining my concern that Trump would destroy the economy and be a particularly terrifying role model for my now 12-year-old son. I explained that people like me are considered an “enemy from within” – and that Trump had talked about using the military against those enemies. “There are good reasons for me to be concerned,” I said.

Surely my safety, my free speech, my family would matter.

And yet. And still.

“Who, president Trump?”

With that backdrop, how can I possibly look across a holiday table with anything but anger and heartache?

I cannot. I simply cannot.

And so, this year, our family will eat alone.

I understand that some people will read that and think I’m a horrible relative who is putting politics above family. It’s quite the opposite, really.

When I cast my vote, I considered the safety and security and future of everyone in our family. That includes the members of our family that are disabled, those that would be uninsurable without the ACA, those that need special services, and those that draw on social security.

It includes the young members who will never be able to compete in a kleptocracy, the old members who after contributing to society their whole lives deserve respect – not the insinuation that they’re “takers,” and the middle-aged ones like me who are looking at the younger and older generations and wondering how we are going to hold them both up without falling below the waves ourselves.

When I voted, I chose our family – every single member of our family – above politics.

And now, I’m choosing myself.

So no, I will not be hosting a holiday dinner this year. I will not smile sweetly and make small talk as my stomach churns. I will not twist myself into knots preparing a house and cooking a dinner to give thanks when I am anything but grateful.

And I will not make excuses for grown adults who taught me to be better.

Instead, our family will create some kind of new tradition. I’m sure we’ll do something fun together, even if it’s just cuddling up on the sofa and watching A Christmas Story. The coming four years will have more than enough opportunities for me to have healing conversations, I’m sure. I hope.

Just not this Thanksgiving.

Let’s get to work.

Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash

Actions for the Week of November 26, 2024

Here’s the part where – if you are so inclined – we roll up our sleeves and engage in what I like to call Action Therapy. In each Tuesday post I share a few “small things” – usually a Small Thing to Read, a Small Event to Attend, and a Small Call to Make or Action to Take. You can tuck these actions into your week with ease – and know that you’re doing something today to make tomorrow better.

We have an easy-going action list this week friends because of the short week! Please do go easy on yourself. You deserve and need some emotional downtime. I hope you are able to make some space for it.

Small Thing to Read: An Ex-Lawmaker From Hungary Gives Us Some Advice

Gábor Scheiring is a former member of the Hungarian parliament and current professor of comparative politics. This week he published an excellent essay in Politico that breaks down how he sees Trump’s plans to dismantle our institutions – and what we can do to thwart it. It’s easily digestible, stark, and empowering. Highly recommend. Find it here: https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2024/11/23/trump-autocrat-elections-00191281

Small Call to Make for BLUE District Doers: Clemency for Those on Death Row (Hat tip to Rogan’s List for making me aware of this!)

This year, Missouri Republicans proved that the GOP will execute a man, even when prosecutors and victim families ask them not to – because he may be innocent. (Yes, that happened in Missouri this year. It’s appalling.)

The death penalty is immoral and unethical. Once you recognize that Republicans are willing to kill a man whose guilt is seriously called into question – who actively argue for a man’s murder simply because the judicial process requires “finality” – you understand that it’s not a punishment that should be used in a system that supposedly values justice.

Trump’s first term resulted in 13 federal executions. Right now, 40 people are on federal death row. And while Biden has put a moratorium on the death penalty, Trump’s team could – and presumably would – restart those executions.

Right now, 60+ Democratic lawmakers have called upon President Biden to commute the sentences of those who are currently on death row. (The letter asks for the sentences of other broad classes of people to be commuted as well, but for our purposes here I want to focus on those who are facing the death penalty.)

You can see who they are here: https://theappeal.org/biden-commutations-pardons-before-trump/?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

If you have a Democratic representative that is not on this list, please call them and ask them to help make some noise about this.

Find your house rep’s telephone number here (and program it in your phone for next time).

Script: Hi, my name is (your name) and I’m calling from (zip code). I saw that a group of Congressional Democrats have asked President Biden to commute the sentences of those who are on federal death row to life in prison. That is a good idea – the death penalty is immoral and unethical, and Trump has promised to restart it once he takes office. I was disappointed that (your rep’s name) was not on the list of Democrats who are asking President Biden to commute these sentences. Why wasn’t it? (listen) Please tell the congress(wo)man that s/he needs to show leadership here and ask Biden to commute these sentences. Thanks.

Bonus Action: Subscribe to Rogan’s List!

Small Event to Attend: Set Your Calendar for December 4

Join Jessica Craven, of Chop Wood Carry Water, and Climate Action Now on Wednesday, December 4 at 7 pm ET for a We’re Still In Action Party! You'll learn from one of the most proactive climate advocates in the New York State Assembly; an Environmental Project Specialist from Juneau, Alaska where climate challenges are already looming large; the manager of the popular Climate XChange State Climate Policy dashboard; and an Olympian who advocates for local leaders to build great places to ride bikes. Throughout the event, you’ll be able to send helpful resources and ideas about innovative approaches to your own local and state legislators using the Climate Action Now app.

Register here.

Bonus Action: Subscribe to Chop Wood Carry Water!

Thanks for reading, friend – I’m glad to see you here! If you love what I do and you want to support it, consider becoming a paid subscriber. It means a lot!