I was so hopeful at the beginning of the year. Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff won the Senate seats in Georgia. A committed leader, Stacey Abrams, had led the charge against very difficult odds.

Then, on January 6, the coup d’etat, or whatever your preferred media outlet is calling it. At first, I thought it seemed like too many kooks high on meth. But the more is uncovered, the more organized it appears to have been. Of course I am angry, but I am also brokenhearted. I am always eager to criticize our country’s original sins of slavery and genocide. Systemic racism and the failure of capitalism have brought us to this precarious moment. But the counter to that was the idea that one day we could all be equal and build a democracy. It is not a constant trajectory. Symbols and words matter in the journey. Right now, I am thinking about three symbols I saw (on media of one kind or another) in the Capitol on the sixth. It was startling to see a Confederate flag in the Capitol building. Unfortunately, it is a familiar symbol of racism. We’ve seen it a lot these past few years. But then there were the T-shirts. “Camp Auschwitz.” “Six Million Wasn’t Enough.” It was a punch to the gut.

Many of us have parents or grandparents who lived through World War II. Folks on the left, right, and middle fought a clear evil. Hitler built Auschwitz, and he was responsible for (at least) six million deaths. How could any American, indeed any human being, wear a T-shirt celebrating that evil? How could the President say that he supported and loved those people? It is inconceivable.

One way of clearing away the tear gas, fire extinguisher foam, and filth is to understand what led us here. How could this happen? There are probably as many explanations as there are thinking people. Trump’s Republican Party never stood for any ideals, any philosophy, indeed anything at all but white supremacy. After Obama’s presidency and the many years of Republican/Democratic neoliberal economics, it’s clear that America’s economy serves the few at the cost of many. What Republicans since Nixon have done is convince white folks that the fault lies with the “other,” be they people of color, or women, or queers. The recovery following the economic meltdown of 2008 saved the banks, not the working people.

Given that the country was based on slavery as much as anything, it is not surprising that Republicans have pulled off this lie about who is to blame. Since Democrats depend on the largesse of the corporate class almost as much as Republicans, they didn’t let the cat out of the bag to the eroding white middle class. It took Trump, in his overt racism, to create the flashpoint. There is no going back. Despite my heart being broken by Nazi and other racist slogans, maybe it’s better that we know what is behind the heavy curtain. Most days I feel like crying and returning to bed.

Just before the inauguration, Paul gave me a new book about James Baldwin entitled Begin Again: James Baldwin’s America and Its Urgent Lessons for Our Own, by Eddie S. Claude, Jr.. Trump may help many of us to return to Baldwin to understand our own country and its long and twisted journey. One of the key ideas that Baldwin wrote about was that white supremacy would eventually hurt white people too. Strange that it took Donald Trump to remind us about Baldwin’s prescience. (Although I doubt he has ever heard of James Baldwin.)

This morning at the inauguration, we saw the old guard (white guys) and the new promise (women, people of color, queers) on the platform together. (Those ladies had some fierce coats on!) Joe Biden said the right things about unity, systemic racism, the American story, and the power of example. If the wind had kicked up, Lady Gaga would have floated away in her red parachute of a skirt. But it was poet Amanda Gorman’s combination of youth, edge, and love that returned me to hope.