My Childhood Friend Voted for Trump
Tags: Election 2020, Politics, Politics And Protest, Biden 2020, Voting

My Childhood Friend Voted for Trump Erin Follow Sep 7 · 5 min read

Photo by History in HD on Unsplash

I’m a 20something liberal who grew up in a house full of democrats. As a kid, I just kind of figured everyone voted like my parents did. They gave me the elementary school version of why they voted who they voted for, and I overheard dinner table conversations about right vs left. Sounded like they knew what they were talking about, so in my kid brain my friend’s parents probably said the same things.

I had one friend in particular, we’ll call him Dave. All of my memories of him are lovely. Once, another friend of mine moved away and I was upset. I sat on the swing set to process. Dave came over, sat down without saying a word, pulled out a harmonica, and played me a song. On the last day of sixth grade, he got one of those i-Zone cameras (remember those things?!) and asked to take a picture of me next to my locker, so he would remember me. I moved away that year and so did he, but I always kept those special little moments in my mind.

Now it’s 2020 and I have created a nice little liberal bubble for myself. I have deleted Facebook, which these days means I have deleted all the hometown right winged radicals from my life. I went to Michigan State, which is huge, so I was never forced into a conversation with the young republicans. Sure I work with people who voted opposite of me, but we are all remote employees and keep our conversations light. I’ve moved recently, so I have approximately two friends who live near me right now and they’re obviously left leaning. I have never experienced dinner with the conservative uncle. My mom, who will vote for Biden, asked me once “why do you hate Trump so much, anyway?” and I almost exploded. I have done my research and know why I vote the way I do, but I ignorantly haven’t taken the time to really listen to the opposing side.

When the protests began this year, I was more politically charged than ever. Surely nobody could vote for Trump now, right? After the complete failure to control the pandemic, and the inability to hear our cries for black citizens, he had to be done. The idiots circling my local protests in motorcycles and pickup trucks were rare, and the smart, young voters I was surrounded with were the majority. Right??

Photo by Cooper Baumgartner on Unsplash

Well, que Dave.

While thing after thing kept falling apart this year and we all fell deeper and deeper into the dark internet hole, I got an Instagram friend request from Dave. I was overjoyed to see his name and catch up with him. Scrolling through his most recent pictures, I saw that he had gotten engaged and picked up a love for cooking Italian food. Good for you, Dave.

Then I started watching his IG stories. I saw a post at first that seemed suspicious and thought “oh, I must be interpreting it wrong. No way he’s voting for Trump.”

The posts got more and more obvious though, and I couldn’t deny it anymore. My elementary buddy was the other guy.

He was a shining example of what I refused to believe existed. A young, working class guy just starting out his professional life and his family, and voting for someone who couldn’t care less about him.

I toyed with my options. Do I unfriend him? Do I just stop watching his stories? Do I pretend I didn’t just see that?

After a few weeks of digesting this and a post about corrupt media that really put me over the edge, I decided I should message him. Being a childhood friend, he’s one person who remains so innocent and kind in my mind. I knew nothing he said could erase the memories I had of him before we grew up. If I was going to have a constructive discussion with someone who voted differently than me, this was the one. Part of the journey of becoming an informed voter is having talks with opposing sides, not just scoffing at blog posts online.

So I DMed him, and we talked on and off for a couple of days. I even learned a few things.

I learned that we have quite a few commonalities, he just thinks my vote is misguided just as I think his is.

For example, we agree that the wealth distribution going on right now isn’t helping us. I think we agreed that having a rapist in office is bad and the pandemic wasn’t handled well.

I learned that someone can talk a big game, saying the media from both sides is corrupt, but decide that an influencer’s posts are the best place to get news.

I learned that some people have a way easier time than I do passing the buck on moral issues because they agree with a candidate fiscally.

Most importantly, I learned that Trump supporters (or at least the brand I stumbled upon) think of Donald as the “new kid on the block” archetype. Because he wasn’t a career politician, they think he has a fresh set of eyes. A less corrupt perspective. I see the benefit of getting new blood into politics. I don’t think the Trump family is new blood, but I understand the concept. On the other hand, I know the feeling of being close to a promotion and then having an outsider hop on in and take your opportunity.

Overall, the conversation took a ton of energy out of me even through messages where I had time to leave messages unread, pause, reflect, and construct a response. At one point I thought I was going to change his mind, but of course that doesn’t happen over a short messaging session.

We were able to end the conversation by circling back to fun times on the playground, and even a loose invite to grab a drink next time we’re in the same city.

Internet fights aside, have you really talked to someone who votes differently than you? If not, I encourage you to find your Dave. Someone who went down a different path in life, but who once shared the same view of the best lunch or the most fun playground game. I have very strong emotion behind my vote, and I have a hard time listening to others because of that. Next time I find myself in a political debate, I have a peaceful place I can go in my mind to recenter and articulate my point in a productive manner. Back to fifth grade, on the swing set with my friend.