Member-only story

I Can Watch Donald Trump Now

Eze Ihenetu
7 min readMay 3, 2020

--

Photo by Library of Congress on Unsplash

My hatred for Donald Trump has always been visceral, a venom that flows through my bloodstream whenever he appears before me. I’ve harbored an intense aversion to the man since 2011, when he began to openly question President Obama’s place of birth and legitimacy because of his roots in Kenya. My father was born and raised in Nigeria before immigrating to the United States in 1975. I was born in Denver, Colorado on December 8, 1976, the first and only son of immigrants. Trump has and always will be an existential threat to people like me. On election night 2016, as the cocksure and tanned Trump strutted onto the stage as the newly elected president of the United States, I acted on my instincts, which was to grab both of my tennis shoes from beneath my bed and toss them at the television screen.

A few weeks after millions of hearts were broken by the election of Donald Trump, Dave Chappelle opened Saturday Night Live with a monologue. In it he urged disapproving Americans to give Donald Trump a chance. But I couldn’t convince myself to do it. For I was unable to watch Trump on the television set without feeling the urge to hurl the digested contents of my stomach in his direction.

Trump continued to dominate the airwaves in the ensuing year, comfortable and snug in the privilege that comes with being a wealthy, powerful, and less than mediocre white man in America. It’s…

--

--

Eze Ihenetu
Eze Ihenetu

Written by Eze Ihenetu

Eze is a teacher, survivor, and politically astute. He is a 2X Top Writer and has been published in multiple digital magazines. ep2ihenetu@gmail.com

Responses (1)