By Emma Claire Ambroziak
In the days before, and especially in the days after Election Day, I have seen a plethora of rhetoric from both left-wing and right-wing sources about the extent to which politics can (and should) impact our relationships.
Generally, I noticed liberals swear off Trump supporters who decided that racism, transphobia, xenophobia, 34 felony convictions and dozens of sexual assault allegations were not dealbreakers in their vote for the President of the United States. Subsequently, I noticed many white, male Trump voters declaring that “politics shouldn’t get in the way of our relationships.” But there is a whole spectrum of feelings about whether or not politics should affect our relationships — on both sides.
Harris, in her concession speech on Nov. 6, highlighted the importance of moving forward together.
“I know folks are feeling and experiencing a range of emotions right now,” she said. “I get it, but we must accept the results of the election. Earlier today, I spoke with President-elect Trump and congratulated him on his victory. I also told him that we will help him and his team with their transition and that we will engage in a peaceful transfer of power.”
I was impressed with the tact and civility with which Harris responded to this devastating loss, though I am not sure I can do the same in my own relationships. Politics and relationships are complicated — particularly when they collide. I have engaged in a ridiculous amount of mental gymnastics in the days after the election, trying to piece together my feelings and make sense of it all. I think that the decision to let politics influence relationships is a deeply personal one, and I think that the importance of politics in a relationship depends on what kind of relationship it is.
I read a number of articles that interviewed women who were grappling with their boyfriends’ or husbands’ decisions to vote for Trump, and therefore, against their reproductive rights and bodily autonomy. I read about people who broke up with their partners because they voted for the opposite party. I spoke to a friend in a swing state who told me that she hardly knew anyone who was voting and that she had to convince her boyfriend to go out and vote. Another friend called me in tears the week before Election Day because she just found out her boyfriend voted for Trump.
I sympathize with these women, but I would not be able to date someone whose worldview is so starkly different from mine; I choose the people in my life carefully, and in a romantic partnership, which is often more time-consuming and intimate than other friendships or relationships, I would not be able to look my partner in the eye knowing that they could tolerate someone like Trump in office, someone who does not respect women, people of color, immigrants or queer folks.
But I do have a few friends — and a few family members — who voted for Trump. When I think about this, I feel sick to the stomach. I wonder if they are thinking about how it feels for the women in our family who have been sexually assaulted to see a man found liable for rape ascend to the presidency. I wonder how they would feel if one of the women in our family died because an easy procedure for a pregnancy-related complication was no longer legal due to their vote. I wonder why they are okay with the things that Trump has said and done, and I wonder if their vote boils down to the fact that they simply do not want a woman to be president.
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
I am a left-wing voter who believes that immigrants make our country better, that reproductive care is healthcare and that affordable healthcare and LGBTQIA+ rights are human rights. I care about dismantling mass incarceration, equalizing opportunities for people of color, protecting the environment and not electing violent fascists to office.
It is important to me to build a life where I feel that my values are shared by the people around me. I do not want to spend my precious time around people who infuriate me and who refuse to understand me, my values or my beliefs. I do not need to be understood and accepted by everyone in my life, but I am a human being who wants to be understood and accepted by the people closest to me. And I need the people who are closest to me to value human rights, basic human decency and individual autonomy. And so I sympathize with, and support, the decisions of my friends and family to cut themselves off from people who vote against their rights.
And yet I also believe that we are made better by diversity. Diversity of human beings, of backgrounds, of experiences and of values. At the same time, some of the strongest, longest lasting relationships we experience in our lifetime are rooted in shared values. So, what does that mean for us, in the context of this election, and in the context of our country’s ever increasing polarization?
I do not know. But let me say this: It is certainly your choice to cut people out of your life, especially if they are voting against your rights. But I also think it is important to talk with people who have different beliefs, to keep lines of communication open with people who you may influence later on down the road, or who may have some influence on you.
The Trump supporters in my life have not been, are not and never will be the people whom I allow into my innermost circles. I do not think that someone who decides that blatant racism, xenophobia and repeated sexual assault are not dealbreakers in their vote is deserving of my limited time and energy. It is important to me to choose the people in my life carefully and to surround myself with people whom I respect and admire. In the same way that I strive to surround myself with people who have strong work ethics, dark senses of humor and kind hearts, I strive to surround myself with people who care about protecting human rights, taking care of the environment and educating themselves on where their biases and privileges play a role in their lives.
While I wholeheartedly respect and support the decisions of others to cut themselves off completely from Trump supporters, I am choosing a more moderate path. I can be amiable and respectful towards people who share different beliefs. I can even be civil and diplomatic towards those who vote against my reproductive rights and bodily autonomy, and remain optimistic that one day we will have a productive, meaningful conversation. I will not invest significantly in those relationships; I will not cut them off completely, but I will relegate them to the outer circles of my life.
Am I complicit in this culture of polarization? Maybe. But should I tolerate bigotry and ignorance in my inner circles and in my everyday life for the sake of “getting along” and “not letting politics ruin relationships?” Maybe not. Will I remain open to conversations with people who share different worldviews? Absolutely. Will I seek out people in my life who are okay with racism, transphobia, violence and assault? I think not.
I do not want to contribute to the “othering” I see employed so often by politicians and voters alike, and I worry about the ever-increasing polarization of our country. I am wary of living in an echo chamber of values, and I want to surround myself with a wide variety of people and beliefs. At the same time, I understand the need to seek out a community that makes you feel safe, that is accepting of your values and that respects your identities.
Again, the question of whether or not to let politics affect relationships and if so, to what extent — is a deeply personal matter, and I think there is no one right answer. It is important for us to keep in mind the ways that we contribute to the “othering” that runs rampant in this country. It may not be as extreme as Trump demonizing trans folks, Muslims and immigrants, but it is “othering” nonetheless. I am grappling with it constantly.
The answer is not total and complete ostracization. Polarization is not helping us move toward the world we want. But I do not think anyone should feel obligated to invest in relationships with people who vote against their rights. Be kind, be open-minded and be forgiving; but also, be firm in what you believe in and in where your boundaries lie, and do not apologize for being selective in who you let into your world.
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