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The Melting of America’s Softness
Trump is punishing the world because his daddy never loved him enough.
When I was 16, I traveled to Switzerland as an exchange student. The family lived on a small farm outside of Basel. On their property were also small cabin-like cottages where Swiss citizens from nearby Basel and other towns passed their summers growing vegetables, barbecuing, and socializing. When the small car that smelled of hay drove down the dirt road to the home, all the summer-cottage renters knew that American had arrived. Coming to a halt, and for the first time experiencing jet lag, I climbed out in my all white, “cool” outfit.
People left their meals, others dropped garden hoes to race to the car, and some grabbed flowers from their gardens. The long-awaited arrival of the “American” was finally taking place, and no one wanted to miss out on the summer fun. Standing head and shoulders above the gathered crowd of around 30 Swiss, with a small dog snarling at me, demanding I bend down and pet it, and sticking out like a sore thumb, everyone present had come to see, hear, and meet me.
As I would later learn, and it is something that has followed me through my life since I have resided outside of America for the past 31 years, people are interested in “me” first and foremost because I am an American. It is then…
