Dear Donald Trump: My Father, My Biracial Family, And Those Like Us, Are What Make America Great
What I want you to know Mr. Trump, is that instead of building a wall (as you so vocally want to do if elected), and starting a life with someone that bared the same skin tone, beliefs, background, and past, my father created a bridge made out of love and respect.
By Gabi Crowley
Dear Mr. Trump,
I think you have a lot to learn in this crazy little thing that we call life. No, definitely not from me. I’m just a 25-year-old female who probably fits somewhere in between your categories of “Miss Piggy” and “Miss Housekeeping.”
The person that I think you can learn a thing or two from is my own father. My White father. A man who retired from the Detroit Public Schools system after teaching for more than 30 years. My father, who helped raise two daughters in the inner city of Detroit, while showing the utmost respect for them and his wife day in and day out. A man who has emphasized equality for all, through his words and actions, always teaching me that I am not less nor greater than any other being.
My father was raised in the city of Marquette, a predominantly White, small town, in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, before deciding to travel the world in his twenties. After hitchhiking through Europe and perfecting his Spanish while living in Spain, he settled back down in the US, and began his career as a special education teacher in the City of Detroit. Yes, that’s correct. A teacher for individuals, whom you in fact have publicly made fun of in the past simply because they are different than you.
In his late 20’s my father met my mother. A woman who is 100% Mexican, whose parents’ first language is Spanish. A woman he would have never met if her grandmother didn’t first enter this country illegally (Fun Fact: She later became a citizen after answering “Jorge Washington” when asked who the first President was in her citizenship interview). A few years later, my father married my mother, and in doing so, her large, loud family…or “hombres” as you so ignorantly refer to them as.
Instead of seeing my mother’s relatives as “criminals,” “rapists,” and “killers,” my father saw doctors, teachers, lawyers, mothers, fathers, and children.
I think it’s safe to speak for my father and say that contrary to your past statements, Mexico has indeed given us some of “the best.” What I want you to know Mr. Trump, is that instead of building a wall (as you so vocally want to do if elected), and starting a life with someone that bared the same skin tone, beliefs, background, and past, my father created a bridge made out of love and respect. He fell in love with my mother, regardless of the color of her skin (Side note: really glad I have her genes…the man gets fire-engine red when he’s out in the sun for more than 20 minutes). And regardless of her lack of blonde hair and blue eyes, or the fact that her family celebrates Christmas with tamales, rice, and beans instead of turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy, my father saw and still sees my mother as a person, an individual, someone who is utterly and entirely equal to him, and still loves her to this day with everything he has.
Which brings me to my second point… respect for women. For you to claim that “no one has more respect for women” than yourself, is completely laughable. Your labeling of women as “fat pig[s],” “piece[s] of ass,” and “eating machines,” is beyond disgusting. And the fact that you sincerely believe your fame gives you the free will and right to sexually assault individuals is absolutely terrifying.
I distinctly remember being an 11-year-old in the car with my father when Britney Spears’ “Slave 4 U” came on the radio. My awkward, middle-school self was singing along when suddenly he turned the song down.
“Don’t you ever be a slave for any man,” were his exact words to me, as he drove down the street to drop me off at swim practice.
At that time I was completely mortified, and just wanted to catch the end of the song so that I could mouth, “Like that,” and pretend I was on the stage at the 2001 MTV VMAs dancing with a python, but instead I was stuck listening to my father lecture me about the importance of self-respect. Today, I can’t thank my father enough for that awkward moment. He raised my sister and me to always think for ourselves, to stand up and speak for what’s right, no matter how uncomfortable it may be to do so, to never succumb to the constant peer pressure of “fitting in,” and to always, always, always have respect for ourselves. Things that, by your track record Mr. Trump, you aren’t the best leading example for.
Your past public statement to a woman about how good she would look “dropping to [her] knees,” not only makes me angry for my own gender, but also makes me sad for all of the women in your life. What about your wife? Daughters? Grandchildren that look to you for guidance? Is this what you want them to take away at the end of the day? That it’s okay to kiss someone without their consent? To rate them by the size of their chest? To tear down their self-esteem for the simple fact they don’t fit into a size XS dress?
I’ve struggled with body issues for the majority of my life. I’ve never once been a size 0, had perfectly straight teeth, or a glowing complexion. And I can honestly say that after 25 years, I’m finally okay with it, and part of this self-acceptance I owe to my father. Since day one, he taught me the importance of knowing that someone isn’t defined by a number on the scale, a chipped tooth (shout out to a Bud Light Lime bottle in college for that one), or the pimple on your chin. Instead, he’s always stressed the importance of respect, honesty, and kindness…three characteristics in which you seem to be seriously lacking.
There are a lot of reasons why I have so much love and respect for my father but I believe helping my mother raise two girls into women is why I love him the most. There was never a sport I couldn’t play, or a dream I couldn’t have, without knowing he would be there for me every step of the way. My father always has provided me with a feeling of security, and has always supported me on whatever path in life I choose to take, regardless of the fact that we don’t always see eye to eye.…a secure feeling that I believe you’re very much incapable of providing to our country if elected as our next President of the United States.
Mr. Trump, I ask you to look around this country and tell me what you see. Black, White, Hispanic, Middle Eastern, gay, straight, bisexual, queer, rich, poor…our country is made up of so many unique individuals.
People that need to know, what my father has always taught me, that they have the same rights as any other person. Immigrants that need not fear of being sent back to the country they left in search of a better life in this one. Women that work the same job as men, only to fight for gender equality and still be paid 80% of what the opposite sex makes. We need to know that the next leader of our country, will wholeheartedly fight for every single one of us, every single step of the way. At the end of the day, I understand that the position of the leader of our country stems deeper than race and gender (and the fact that I think my father is the coolest guy in the world), but these two elements just so happen to make me who I am today, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing about them.
Oh, and one more thing if you didn’t know this already….I’m with That Nasty Woman.