Remember when an actor from California named Ronal Reagan accepted the Republican nomination for President in July of 1980? I do. Because my parents were there, in Detroit, at Joe Louis Arena proudly wearing their Reagan hats. It’s captured in a picture I see every time I walk up the stairs in their house. They look so happy.
I’ll never forget the energy they brought home with them, along with some small gifts for my sister and me. They were so excited. They lived through the fear of the 70s, raising a small family, trying to pay the bills, and wondering if life would always be so hard. That all changed for the better that summer. It was a big deal to go to Detroit in July, especially when summers are so short in New England.
I grew up in a small town. Everyone knew my dad’s name from his real estate yard signs, and every kid knew my mom as Mrs. Smith, their “favorite teacher.” It was not unusual to have political differences with your neighbors, and it was often a way to break the ice when saying “hi.”
Today you’d be hard-pressed to take a trip to Detroit for fear for your life, and it is rude to talk politics with someone with differing views, especially in New England. There is no sense of ease, and there is no middle ground. Instead, everyone’s tense and not interested in your views and that goes especially for the politicians who have ruined your city, state, or town.
When I see people at Trump rallies and the love they have for America, I think about my parents and the sacrifices they made for our family. Americans are tough. They know why they love something, and they will stand up for what they believe in, no matter what.
