A Moment to Pause

The special news report buzzed in my phone. Texts started rapidly flying one after the other. I looked down and my heart sank. Former President Trump had been shot. Then just as quickly, another update came that he was okay and had been taken to a local hospital. Next came a picture of the former president with the American flag flying behind him as blood streamed down his face. His fist in the air, he appeared defiant, yelling “fight, fight.” And then a statement from the Trump campaign that he was okay and a report that the suspected gunman was dead.

Chaos and screams ensued. What happened? Who did this? Oh, no. Not again. That’s what I felt when I saw the news. I closed my eyes. No, not again.

I’ve been here before. Both my uncles were shot dead running for president of the United States. My cousin Bobby is running now without Secret Service protection. Political assassinations are part of my family history, my family trauma, and my own trauma.

Any time anyone from my family announced they were going to run for office—whether it was for Congress, governor, mayor, president, vice president, or another office—I always worried about the possibility of an assassination.

It kept me up at night any and every time I heard a pop or a loud noise. I’d jump, terrified it was a gunshot. Unfortunately, I still jump.

My phone started ringing Saturday night. What does this mean? Will there be violence in the streets? Will there be a civil war? What’s going to happen?

At this hour, the news is still unfolding, but what I know is that violence has no place in our political landscape. None whatsoever. I’ve worried about this for some time as I’ve watched the language heat up and the tempers flare. But at this moment we must all stay calm and not turn on one another. The worst thing that could happen right now is for us to turn on one another. Other societies have done this. We must not.

No one should take any pleasure in this. I don’t care who you are voting for, this is a moment for us to be calm, to stay calm, and to comfort one another. It’s not a moment to fight. It’s to do the exact opposite. To exert peace, to exemplify peace, to call for peace.

I think we can all agree that after this week in particular, we need peace in our presidential campaign process across the board.

Just a few days earlier this week, I watched the First Lady leave an event where she was met by screams.

Why are you screaming at me? You know me. Don’t scream at me, she responded.

But the questions came in rapid fire, one louder than the next.

“Is your husband getting out of the race?” “Are you telling him to get out?” “When is he getting out?" "Why isn’t he getting out?"

The First Lady was understandably frustrated as she got into a car and drove off. I get it. Life in the public arena can be brutal, and a presidential campaign is unrelenting and, yes, it’s violent in more ways than you can imagine.

The glare is hot and there is always something.

There’s no question that the Biden campaign is in the thick of things right now on so many fronts. How they deal with their post-debate reality is critical, as is how they handle this very moment now concerning former President Trump.

Shortly after the incident Saturday, President Biden released a statement saying he was praying for Trump and his family, adding “there’s no place for this kind of violence in America. We must unite as one nation to condemn it.”

I couldn’t agree more. After all, Biden is still president, which means he’s tasked with being the comforter-in-chief right now—the man many look to at moments like this to make sense of things and be reassured. I was heartened to hear that the President even called the former President after he received medical care.

But these next few days will be critical to our country, to both men’s campaigns, to their families, and to us as a people. Everything from here on out will be different. The news since the debate has been all about Biden. Is he in or is he out? Can he stay or does he have to go? Now we have this stunning news about Trump to add in as well.

The essay I had originally written this week (which I threw out last night) was about taking someone at their word. It was about how we age, and about allowing someone the grace and dignity to make their own decisions and to leave center stage when they felt in their heart the time was right.

But now everything feels different. Everything. This is a moment to pause.

This is a moment to wish the Trump family well and to send them our best. It’s also a moment to send the same to the Biden family. Let’s remember that running for president is a dangerous sport. They and their families deserve not to fear for their lives as they seek our vote. (Let’s also not forget that as I write this at least one other person attending the rally was killed—someone who was exercising their right to political freedom.)

At this moment, I think there are lessons playing out for all of us.

We must all unite to condemn violence. I was glad to see so many Republicans and Democrats doing just that last night, but we can’t do it for just one night, we have to do it all the time. None of us should stoke violence in our homes, in the public square, or on social media. We can all watch our words. Violent words cause tempers to flare and we can all do our part in bringing down the temperature. We can all also take a page from the First Lady and ask each other to stop yelling and attacking each other. Stop yelling at others in the airport. Stop yelling at others in cars. Stop yelling in school meetings. Stop yelling at coworkers. Stop yelling at people you supposedly love. Stop yelling in the public square.

I wish we would all bring the noise down a notch because the escalations we’re all watching play out before our eyes is simply unacceptable. People are screaming and deliberately trying to confuse us and create chaos right now, which is why it’s imperative to quiet the noise. We need to be able to hear ourselves think. We need to be able to really listen to people’s words, witness their actions, and process what they are saying and what’s happening. We need to be able to trust our own guts as these men and their campaigns ask us to trust them.

Tomorrow, the Republican convention will begin. I sincerely hope that we will not be hearing fiery and divisive speeches. It’s not the time, it’s not the moment. I hope we can all agree on that. Let’s let this story unfold. Let’s let those who are grieving begin their grieving process. So many people are shaken and deeply concerned. Let’s go slowly into this week. Let’s put the race to the side and prioritize caring for one another.