Wednesday, 9 November 2016
Nothing to do with my book, but....
It's a kind of solace to throw around black humour on days when inexplicable events happen. I have been re-posting some very funny responses to Trump's election, feeliing bleak, but glad of the shared sense of sardonic doom to help me through the baffling day.
But as I was just making myself a coffee, I thought about the conversations I have had this morning with my two daughters. Both of them at various world events, have reacted with a mixture of questions, bafflement, and sometimes fear.
It suddenly hit me that if they were muslims, or from a minority, or immigrants in America this morning, how real that fear might feel, to hear a voice in the background at a presidential acceptance speech shout "Kill Obama!". To know that promises to intern or deport you had been made, to know that, though the candidate might not give a rat's arse about you either way, it was just part of his strategy, he stirred up dangerous moods in order to win. If I was a mother to those girls this morning, I might really weep.