Coming out of our Kansas State Democratic meeting, I watched others give speeches. Some were good. Some were great. Some speeches I listened to were hurried, some had a few stumbles. Since high school, as someone who grew up doing speech & debate, and continued to do so in college, I wrote and re-wrote speeches. Working for political candidates, I spend a great deal of my time, writing, re-writing, and helping to develop the thoughts of others. Even when candidates and leaders go off script or off the cuff, they do so passionately and with purpose.
I've been fortunate to be gifted with great candidates who have gone out and been great off the cuff, great with a written stump, and solid with their meaning.
Watching CPAC though, I didn't think about great candidates or even those who stumbled with passion and purpose. I was reminded of something else, something that actually made me sad, not just for our country, but actually, for the Trump family.
Several days a week I have lunch in a skilled nursing facility now, and every day, a few of the residents embark on long lectures. Other people in the room don't understand what has started the lecture or why they are so fired up — but for that resident, the need to yell out their frustration, whether it makes sense or not is a compulsion they cannot contain.
As I watched the president's CPAC speech, I could only think of that experience, watching older men rant endlessly out of frustration and anger, struggling with their loss of the internal control that allowed them to keep their private thoughts private. For those residents, whether it was a medical issue or just age, it is that loss which harms them.
Earlier in the week, as I sat and ate at our table, across the room I watched a younger woman sitting with I assume her father and brush away a tear as he ranted about wrongs done to him in his life. She found a nurse outside of the dining room, and I could hear her tell them: "He wasn't like this before, he is a good person, and I know he doesn't mean these things."
Protecting her father's legacy was important to her, she didn't want him to be remembered as someone who rambled aimlessly, ranted with anger, and had lost his internal filters.
When I watch Trump deliver his CPAC speech, I hear all of the signs of someone who has lost control, has lost that internal filter that tells them to stop, to contain their thoughts.
There is a part of me that wants to say: he's a terrible person, these things are terrible and what he said was terrible. All of those things are true. But as the rambling speech went longer and longer, I kept thinking the same thing: I am watching someone who is no longer in control of his own ability to filter and organize his thoughts. I am watching something that while it is certainly dangerous for the country, it should also be sad for his family and those who have known him.
While some argue for impeachment, and others talk about the criminal behavior of the president, the speech at CPAC made me pause and realize what may be needed is mercy.
I can disagree most vehemently with a person's positions, I can be angry about their beliefs and desires. But, I can also be compassionate and hope that even someone I may disagree with in every single way is provided mercy.
Manhattan Community Access Corp. v. Halleck
