“But it’s not funny,” I say to myself after I laugh at what Trump said on TV. I’m not laughing from joy, I’m laughing from a blend of anger, surprise, and confusion. I cannot believe that he still says certain things. This particular laugh came as a result of him recently tweeting that Michigan, Wisconsin, and Virginia should “liberate” themselves and strongly saying that the country needs to reopen, to today saying that he strongly disagrees with the decision by the Governor of Georgia to reopen their economy, saying that protecting people is the most important thing.
I laugh probably because I find it ridiculous and laughing feels more comfortable than shouting at the TV. I laugh probably because I don’t know what else to do or so. I laugh probably because I want to pretend that it’s all not real.
But it is very real. Senator Elizabeth Warren just lost her brother to COVID-19. (Senator/Congressperson?) Maxine Waters from California is on the brink of losing her sister. I know at least four people who have already lost loved ones. I know people who are working in ICUs. This virus has not gone away and will not be going away until we find a treatment and vaccine.
I don’t want to laugh, I really want to shout and I want to cry. I want to shout at what seems to be his unwillingness to take a decision, his “the states are in control” but “I believe you should do this” style of advisory/consulting services. I want to shout at his flip-flopping. I want to shout at his seeming hesitance to stand up for every single American.
And I want to cry. I want to cry at how re-opening the economy may cause even more strain on the hospital system, and importantly, the people holding it up. I want to cry at how many more people are going to lose loved ones. I want to cry because I don’t know how many loved ones are being lost right now to the stay-at-home orders.
I laugh because I don’t know what else to do. I remember reading a book in college about anthropology that talked about a tribe in Brazil and how they often dealt with such incessant pain and sadness by laughing. I can’t recall the full message, but I think it were something about not knowing what to do and not thinking they had any control over changing the situation, so there wasn’t much use in shouting or crying.
Maybe that’s why I laugh. I sit at home, watching the TV, hearing things that make me angry and sad, and I feel powerless to change them.
But maybe I’m not.
Maybe I can start sharing my anger and sharing my pain. Maybe I can start to stand up for my humanity and that of others. Maybe I can start to show the world that I want someone who has the courage to make decisions, who has the courage to take responsibility for his actions. Maybe I can start to stand strong.
