A “Falling Off the Horse” Kind of Day

This morning, my wife Amy labeled yesterday a “falling off the horse” kind of day.

She’s right. And I wish that comment was only about our daughter’s failed soccer tryout…

In this election cycle, the Dixon house was a pro-Clinton house. No candidate is perfect, but we were for Hillary for lots of reasons, including her qualifications, her temperament and the historic nature of her candidacy.

Ironically enough, for those very same reasons we were united against Trump.

And so as the election returns came in and state after state went red, dread started to fall on our little house. Our youngest daughter said, “I’m scared.” Of what? Of the “meanie” that was going to be living in the White House. Our middle daughter, she of the “Girls Rule” T-shirt collection, burst into tears, her dream of a woman achieving the highest office in our land shattered. And our oldest daughter decided she’d join me in what we hoped would be a tension-relieving lap around the neighborhood; the “Walk of Angst” we called it.

Toward the end of the evening, our son walked by on his way to bed. He’s a teenager and, as such, he squarely inhabits his own little world. So I was pleasantly surprised when he stopped to offer what he intended to be words of comfort:

“Don’t worry, Dad. Life will go on. We’ll just keep doing what we’re doing.”

I started to mumble back something like “thanks, Son, good night,” when it occurred to me:

This is the time to talk about privilege.

So, more or less, here’s what I told him:

“Buddy, you’re right. For our family, I don’t think much will change with Donald Trump as our President. After all, we’re a white, evangelical, middle-class family. On top of that, you and I are men, and, as always, that will work in our favor as well.

But here’s the thing…it is our privilege to not have to worry so much about an America led by Donald Trump. Millions of Americans, including many of our friends, have a lot to worry about in Donald Trump’s America, from losing health care to deportation to just knowing that the President of our country has mean feelings in his heart about who they are as people.

So, yes, we’ll be fine, but it’s important to know and then do something about the reality that many more won’t be.”

Really, who knows how much a 14 year old can grasp about the toxic realities of privilege in our world? Seems like our son’s brain is full of high school, video games, and trying to consume as much milk as possible.

All I know is this: it is my sacred task to help our kids understand. And lament. And work for change. It is my duty as a Jesus-following father to call out and decry racism, sexism, xenophobia, and every other way that our world does violence to the image of God in people.

Sadly, it looks like the next four years will provide me with lots of opportunities to teach my kids about privilege.

God help us.