Dear President-elect Trump:
You will be our nation’s next president. With your victory, you baffled pollsters, emboldened supporters and left half the nation in shock. I promised my kids that if you won, I’d model the good sportsmanship I instilled in them. So I will not claim the election was rigged. I won’t demand recounts. I won’t suggest the Russians hacked voting machines and delivered this election to their horse.
But I will work with every breath I have to fight the divisive and hateful policies that underscored your campaign. I will work with every ounce of energy I can to continue to fight for the causes I believe in, especially those you mock. This victory is not a mandate. It reveals huge cracks in our society; it’s now in your purview to oversee the mending. You won. Now you have to lead.
I know you think you can do it all on your own, but let me offer a few suggestions.
Stop the hateful rhetoric. You’ve insulted blacks, hispanics, muslims, gays, the disabled, and women. (Note: sorry if I left anyone out.) You won this election on the backs of white uneducated men, fanning racist and xenophobic flames in the process. Stop. You weren’t elected president of old white men. You represent us all now. Act presidential. Set the tone and the example.
Stop investigating Secretary Clinton. Over the last 25 years, Congress has already wasted an estimated $500 million taxpayers dollars investigating her. Don’t be a sore winner. Do not follow through on your campaign promise to “lock her up.” Treat her with dignity. Call Congress off her tail. Treat her with dignity.
Retire the word tremendously from your lexicon. You claim to be a man of many, many words. Use them. Amaze us with your eloquence. Inspire us. I challenge you.
Take a crash course in civics. It’s just off putting to have a president who doesn’t know how many articles are in the Constitution and who might not even be sure how bills are passed. Americans clearly said they want an outsider, but it’s actually kind of useful to have a basic understanding of how things work around here. You don’t get to rewrite the rule book. Not without help. Three branches, checks and balances and all. (Thank you founding fathers.)
Yes, I’m tired. I’m sad. And I am fearful of what kind of president you will be. As you measure drapes and plan your inaugural speech, I hope you learn to accept criticism, learn that a president doesn’t have to appeal to all the people, and you don’t have to lash insults at those who don’t embrace you. What’s great about America is we don’t have to like our leaders. We can speak out against them and advocate for alternatives to their policies.
I wish you luck. Our futures depend upon your success.