An Open Letter to Mr. Trump

An open letter to Mr. Trump:

Dear Mr. Trump,

You make me sad. You do not make me feel Drunk on Love in the Kitchen. In fact, you make me want to get drunk in the kitchen, but I digress. A notable leader has compassion and wisdom and empathy and vision. You have none of these. Yes, you have made billions, I’ll give you that. Yes, you have your name emblazoned five stories high on buildings all around the world (tacky, my Aunt Bug would say). What you don’t have is manners. You bluster around state fairs in your silly red hat calling people names and making racist, sexist, and just plain hateful comments. You fill people’s heads with dangerous lies. You lack respect and common decency. And people clap! And people follow you! And people say they will vote for you! That, Mr. Trump, just makes me sadder. You don’t care about anyone except yourself. You have no sense of others, especially those of us in the middle who live a quiet, everyday existence without glitter or glam or television cameras recording our every move.

You see, I finally figured out who you remind me of. I am newly retired high school teacher, and most of my friends and former students know I rarely met a kid I didn’t love. I saw hope in the most annoying and insufferable of students. Some pushed my buttons and others frustrated me to no end, but I always seemed to glimpse a hint of promise in them. I did, however, encounter a small handful of kids during my teaching career who I just didn’t like. They were the bullies, the mean girls, those kids I just could never seem to reach. They walked the halls with a sense of entitlement, pushing others around. They knew how to fight dirty. They used their power to harass and torment just for fun. These kids always seemed to have an entourage of followers who were just hanger ons, those who sought to capture a small burst of power by just following in their shadows. Some of these kids are now in prison; others are in nearby cemeteries. Some went out into the world and grew into the adult bullies we all still fear. They continue to terrorize and intimidate, but now it is with customers, clients, or their children’s teachers and coaches. 

You, Mr. Trump, are one of these kids. You believe your swagger and showboating denotes your superiority over others. It does not. The people who claim they will vote for you are like those entourages. They are not true friends….just lost kids who latch on to the closest heat source, despite the fact that it is a bomb ready to explode. You feel like you are entitled to call people offensive names. You judge women on their looks alone. You stereotype entire cultures with distortions and falsehoods. You proudly wave the flag of fear and hate.This is not what the President of the United States does. This is not what makes a noble commander.

You, Mr. Trump, do not have Carter’s compassion. You do not have FDR’s vision. You do not have Kennedy’s passion. You do not have Reagan’s command. You do not have Clinton’s charisma. You do not have Obama’s wisdom. You do not have Eisenhower’s humility. You do not possess any of the qualities historians have deemed necessary in the making of a great president.

So, Mr. Trump, please sit down and be quiet, or I will be forced to send you to the principal’s office.