By most estimates, moms have had it rough this year. Day care centers are closed and moms are working from home; at the same time they’re homeschooling, keeping their children from watching porn on the internet, and sanitizing everything. And then there’s that former reality television star who perpetually gets himself in the news, rambling in front of cameras about treating the novel coronavirus with disinfectants in the body. In an optimal world, mothers would get celebrated way more than once a year. In a decent world, they’d be able to protect their children from exposure to Donald Trump.
Looking back 50 years or so, my own mother—she’s in a care facility now—was a mysteriously effective role model. She was more submissive than dominant, never hit me or raised her voice, didn’t directly boss anyone around, but indirectly gave my sisters and me VERY CLEAR guidance on what behaviors were expected in our home, and out in the world.
Rarely did my mother explicitly tell us how to behave. But once, when an African American family moved into our all-white neighborhood, she proactively, quietly, and firmly sat my sisters and me down and told us we would always treat them with respect. We did. When my mom got serious, we never questioned her authority.
One time, she was driving and a car squealed past us in a no-passing zone. She sighed, glanced over at me, and said, “I’ll be very disappointed if you ever drive like that.” For the next 5 decades, including my teen years, my friends and family have ridiculed me for my slow, conservative driving. I watch my speedometer, stop at yellow lights, and slow down at uncontrolled intersections. My mother said it once, I remembered what she said, and I still don’t want to disappoint her.
Without a stern word, my mother taught us to love our neighbors (even when they were annoying), showed us how to treat everyone with kindness and respect (even when they didn’t deserve it), and modeled how we could be generous with our time and energy by focusing on the needs and interests of others.
Once, when the family was out watching Paul Newman and Robert Redford in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, a sex scene started. Immediately, my mom elbowed my dad, and I was ushered from the theater. My mom didn’t want me to see or hear things that might lead me down the wrong path. She would cover my eyes and ears (literally) to stop me from being exposed to negative influences.
All this leads me to wonder how my mother would handle the disastrous role-model-in-chief. Mr. Trump is a mother’s nightmare, spewing out perverted values on a daily basis.
My mother’s first strategy would be to not let me hear whatever terrible ideas Trump gets out of his brain and into his mouth. She would have blocked me from watching news pieces about Mr. Trump’s playboy models, paid off porn stars, shitholes, Pocahontas, pussy-grabbing, gold star families, and references to women as pigs.
As much as my mother would have hated Mr. Trump’s sexist and racist words, she would be even more apoplectic about his poor character. If we saw or heard Mr. Trump counterattacking his critics, she would have sat us down, and talked about how an eye for an eye will leave us all blind.
If my mother caught us reading Trump’s tweets, she would have gathered us around the kitchen table for a spelling lesson. She would explain, “there’s no such word as unpresidented,” the phrase “twitter massages” makes no sense, “smocking guns” is just wrong, “the Prince of Whales” is from Wales, and journalists cannot win the “Noble prize.” She would never allow us to utter the word covfefe in our house.
My mother would be deeply offended by Mr. Trump’s incessant lying. If she were parenting us right now, every day she’d find a way to show us how we should admit our mistakes, take personal responsibility, and resist the temptation to blame others. She would talk about truth-telling. She would explain that Mr. Trump being President is a tragic mistake and that we should all work very hard to make sure this tragic mistake ends, so this malevolent man cannot continue to abuse women, minorities, and the American people.
But, for parents like my mother, Mr. Trump offers small advantages. As a teaching device, horrendous role models work quite well. In the end, and with one sentence, my mother would steal away all of Trump’s past and future influence. She would say, “I’ll be very disappointed if you ever act like that man.”
And we wouldn’t.
John Sommers-Flanagan 
Thank you for this. I call your Mother’s actions quiet leadership. What an excellent example of a human being you have the privilege to have learned from…thank you for sharing her with us.
Thanks for your positive comment Katherine. I was very fortunate to have fantastic role models–both of my parents were quite amazing. All my best to you! John SF
How fortunate you are to have be raised up well by a wonderful parent. It seems she inspired you to play her efforts forward. Thank you, John. Sue Newell
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Great to hear from you Sue! Yes, I was and am fortunate. Both my parents were amazingly positive role models. I hope all is well for you and your family. . . and that you’re healthy and safe during this immensely challenging time. Sincerely, John SF
She sounds like a gem.
Thanks Sue. Yes! I’ve been very fortunate.
Your mum sounds like a gem John. ❤
Thanks Carol. I’ve been very lucky! I hope all is well for you on the other side of the pond. Best, John
Physically we are all sound…..the trollies are a bit wobbly.
This social distancing has certainly triggered my grief. My security blanket will just have a few more odd shaped holes through dropped stitches.
You and Rita take good care.
As a mother raising children in 2020 (ages 19,17,12, and 10), I appreciate this so much… I have shielded my younger ones from Trump’s words during this pandemic. But I have not yet went so far as to say, “please don’t ever be like him.” I have kept most of my criticisms to myself or other like-minded adults. But from here on out, I will definitely be pointing out his character flaws. I would be devastated if they acted like him 💔
Thanks for your comments Jill. I wish the best for you and your family!
It would be great if I could find a counseling website where politics did not wheedle its way in somehow. It would also be great if you could afford Trump the same empathy and compassion you show your patients. I had just watched several of your videos for an assignment and told my husband how patient, compassionate, and UNJUDGMENTAL you seemed to be and how I wish we had someone like you here in our area…..but even you cannot seem to hide your hatred/disgust/disapproval (whatever) of Donald Trump which I find sad and disappointing. “Without a stern word, my mother taught us to love our neighbors (even when they were annoying), showed us how to treat everyone with kindness and respect (even when they didn’t deserve it)….” I guess “everyone” doesn’t include political figures you don’t like.
Hi Karen,
Thanks for your message.
When I interviewed Natalie Rogers, I recall her telling me something very compelling about her father, Carl Rogers. She said, in her family, all feelings were accepted, but not all behaviors.
Although some of my judgments about Mr. Trump have political parts, most of my judgments about him focus on his personality and behavior. Politics aside, I wouldn’t care if he was a democrat, an independent, a republican, a corporate mogul, a teacher, a coach, or a rock star. I find his behavior to be an unacceptable example for children and from my perspective it’s clear that he is much more focused on using and abusing power than he is on empowering others. Again, to focus on Carl Rogers, Rogers believed the best use of power was to empower others. I simply don’t see that behavioral pattern in Mr. Trump.
I could make a list of video evidence of Mr. Trump mocking disabled people, calling women “fat pigs,” disrespecting war veterans (including John McCain, whom I’ve never written a negative judgmental word about, despite his politics), paying off prostitutes, saying positive and supportive things about dictators and racists, and his continuous flow of lies. If Mr. Trump was my neighbor or a colleague at my University, I think it would be wrong for me to just let his behavior pass without making it clear that I find his behaviors to be a potentially destructive and negative influence on children in the neighborhood or the culture at the University. Not only do I have a responsibility to be non-judgmentally accepting in therapeutic contexts, I also have a responsibility to speak up and speak out against racism and the promotion of violence.
I can see we have different views of Mr. Trump. You may not see the evidence that I see, or you may find his behaviors less offensive and less dangerous. Although it’s challenging for me to understand your perspective, I know you’re not alone, and I know you must have reasons for believing the ways you believe. I can accept that.
If I were working with a client who exhibited no empathy or said things to others that were likely to incite violence, as a psychotherapist, I would work toward a greater understanding of the client’s emotions, but I would also consider it part of my professional responsibility to find a way to question those behaviors . . . for both the good of the client and the good of people in the client’s world.
Again, thanks for your message. It’s good to hear other perspectives and to have a chance to question myself and my own motives. I appreciate you providing me with that opportunity.
Happy Sunday,
John SF