Trying to separate the person from the politics

Raising the socialism bugaboo, a reader asked to be removed from my subscriber list after my last anti-Trump post.

I’m not a socialist. In fact, when I took the Pew Research Center’s political typology quiz, there were three political typologies to the left of mine, which was “Order and Opportunity Left.”

What bothered me more than being mischaracterized, however, were my feelings. The scorn I felt toward the unsubscriber (whom I know) made me feel bad about myself and prompted self-examination. That led to thinking about how I speak about Trump supporters in general — with condemnation, ridicule, “How could they?” disbelief.

In the pre-Trump era, politics was separate from character. Now we consider the other side bad people. Both sides do it. When I was calling for the Harris campaign, a Wisconsinite said, “I feel sorry for you. Democrats are bad people.” He’s not totally wrong; I don’t feel like a good person when I have disdain in my heart.

A few friends have Trump supporters in their families. They don’t talk politics. I wouldn’t bring up politics with a Trumper. It’s not my behavior I want to change. It’s my feelings. 

I feel at odds with the self who listens to my clergy’s messages about loving one’s enemy. How do I respect, let alone love, someone who excuses belittling, cruelty, and bigotry?

Maybe a start is acknowledging my own failings. I can’t claim to have always treated everyone kindly. I’ve used self-serving justifications for unkindness.

I could spend more time with people who don’t agree with me, not necessarily to discuss politics but just to relate. Everyone I associate with thinks like me. 

I could remind myself that something troubling shaped Trumpers’ views. Pitying them would be patronizing, but compassion is warranted. 

To be clear, my values won’t change. I won’t stop condemning actions, but I’ll try to stop condemning people. Ordinary people, that is. A different standard applies to the pinnacle of power and influence.