It was an especially pleasant Sunday here: lauds and scripture over coffee, followed by conversations with Stella and Pete and a browse through the New York Times. I finished a few of the NYT puzzles and headed off to Mass with Joe and Pete. At doughnuts afterward I met a friend's husband for the first time.
I talked a bit about politics with my family. Pete had just come back from Boy Scout camp, where the Fox News influence was pervasive, and so we talked about the idea of a consistent life ethic and my (possibly wackadoo) theory that Russian dollars are flowing to some right-wing media influencers. But it was a lighthearted conversation, and after lunch I headed outside for some yardplay. (It doesn't really seem like yardwork when the weather is that lovely.)
I smote weeds with Pete, and finished two more KenKens, and bound off a sock while I watched a movie with Stella, and went out with Elwood in an effort to make some remodeling plans. Elwood grilled a delicious dinner, and after I read some Harry Potter to Stella I wrote a lightweight post about a favorite book. I went to bed early.
The New York Times headline this morning was the first I'd heard about Trump's immigration tweet, the one in which he opined that "we must immediately, with no Judges or Court Cases, bring them back from where they came."
I imagined the way my Sunday would have gone if I hadn't been avoiding social media: the easy early-morning conversations filled with tension and perhaps a few surreptitious retweets of favorite zingers, the distracted thoughts about JUSTICE FOR ALL FOR CRYING OUT LOUD tugging at me during Mass, the burning desire to talk it through intruding on the social hall small talk.
It seems likely that the weeds would have gone unchallenged as I refreshed Twitter in search of useful commentary (and notifications). It is probable that I wouldn't have settled down to watch a movie if I'd been scouring Facebook for people defending Trump's position. It is certain that I wouldn't have written a fluffy and somewhat tone-deaf post about Sam Weller.
"What should I do with this information?" I asked myself this morning. "Not much," is probably the answer. Direct some of our June charitable giving to organizations that support immigrants' rights and family reunification -- but I was going to do that anyway. Vote like a vengeful Valkyrie* in November -- which has been on my to-do list since November 9, 2016.
*Probably Valkyries lack voting privileges, since their homeland is not a democracy, but I am sticking with it for the alliteration.
I have been so angry so often since Trump was elected, but I am not sure how much forward motion that anger has fueled. I have a responsibility to be an informed citizen, but how informed is informed enough? When the nation is governed by a man who thinks the norms of our democracy are superfluous contrivances, what's the optimal amount of angry?
Recent Comments