I Tell My Sons to Be Kind, But Is It Enough in Trump’s America?

When my two young sons woke up the day after Trump decisively won re-election, my wife and I delivered the news: The candidate we voted for the day before— Kamala Harris—had lost.

My older son, 6, immediately asked us: “What was the final score?”—he had recently experienced the Yankees’ defeat by the Dodgers, so he was no stranger to a hard loss.

We tried to explain to him about the Electoral College, and what it meant for someone to win an election and how it wasn’t quite like a baseball game, but also that it kind of was. He clearly wasn’t following too closely, so I decided to wrap up the conversation by saying: “What’s most important, no matter who is in charge of our country, is that today, you are kind.”

“That’s the only thing you can control,” my wife added.

I believe that Donald Trump is not a kind person, no matter what you think of him as a person, or of his policies or his coalition. For many, I believe that’s the appeal. A headline on his victory, by The New York Times, proclaimed that “America Hires a Strongman.”

His closing message to the country was filled with personal attacks against Liz Cheney, and statements describing Puerto Rico as a “floating island of garbage.” At a rally in Pennsylvania, he then commented on the bulletproof glass surrounding him, stating that an assassin would have to shoot through the news media to get to him, adding, “I don’t mind that so much.”

My hope was that my sons would not remember a time when Donald Trump was president. Not because I want to shield my sons from the reality of a Trump presidency, but because I do not want my children to see a model of manhood, and specifically, of male leadership, that is anything close to Trump.

When I talk with my kids about how they should behave in school, or with friends, or with our family, it always comes back to one thing: Be kind. Your brother hit you? Hitting him back doesn’t help—be kind. You don’t like that I won’t let you eat another piece of Halloween candy? You don’t need to yell—be kind. I’m sorry that you tripped and fell at the playground, but you shouldn’t get angry at anyone, especially yourself. It was a mistake.

I struggle with the anger that comes as I try to parent two young kids. I can quickly get into an epic battle-of-the-wills—that does not end in my favor—just to get them out in the morning or into bed at night. My temper flares, I yell, I lose my cool. Always, it never helps. Getting out of the door is harder and bedtime drags on.

Be kind, my wife reminds me. It’s all you can control. It always helps.

Now, I’m not so sure. Kindness does not win elections, it seems. The American people are clearly looking for someone who is a fighter, who will be a “strong leader”—whatever that means—and who will not back down from his anger.

It seems as if we elected him president not because of what we want him to do for us, but because of what we want him to do to others: Break the system, tear down enemies, all while showing no remorse nor fear nor sympathy.

I wonder if my advice to “be kind” will help my boys succeed in a world that looks to this type of leader. I am sympathetic to the arguments of the need for a wholesale change to our system, and I remain hopeful that Trump will deliver on his promise that “he alone can fix it.” Yet, I do wonder at what cost that fix will come, especially to our boys.

Part of Trump’s closing message was that of protection. He said he would protect women “whether they like it or not.” Part of Trump’s appeal is his hyper masculinity, which cannot be separated from his relationship to women.

Protection “whether they like it or not” is the close cousin to, “when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.” It’s a masculinity of self-determination, no matter what those choices do for anyone else.

Yet, I am trying to teach my boys a masculinity of compassion. I believe, as men, we must care for the ones we care about. That includes protection, sure, but it also includes respect and empathy.

I want this for my boys not because of any feminist ideals, but the exact opposite: Because I do believe that care, and yes, kindness, is a core part of what it means to be a man.

We, as men, should look out for our communities and protect those around us, whether that’s the act of providing—through a job or otherwise—volunteering in community groups, or just being a person everyone knows they can go to when a neighbor needs some help.

This also means listening to and supporting women, based on what they say they need. Charlie Kirk, a Trump surrogate, reacted to an ad telling women to secretly vote for Harris, by saying “She’s coming in with her sweet husband, who probably works his tail off to make sure that she can go and have a nice life and provide to the family—then she lies to him.”

Krik can have his own feelings and perspectives about American marriage, but when I think about my boys, I wonder: Do I want them to one day marry a woman who thinks she has to lie to him?

The next several years will be full of difficult conversations as we talk to our boys about what the president—supposedly the role model for the nation—did and why that’s different than what we tell them to do. I worry that if my kind boys turn into kind men, the world will grind them down just as Trump hopes to do to those who disagree with them.

I do not know if that will happen. I hope not. Because, that day after the election, I did another thing: I went and bought my wife flowers. There was no reason, other than I felt like I wanted to do something kind for someone. It was the only thing I could control.

Jeff Raderstrong is a writer and ghostwriter focused on the intersection of politics, the economy, and culture.

All views expressed are the author’s own.

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