I hope this letter finds you well. That’s kind of a lie, because if you’re going to read this all the way through, it’s because some worry is eating your stomach lining, some guilt is nagging your temples like that dull, thudding headache you get when you run too fast and too far on a hot day without enough water.
If you’re going to read this all the way through, it’s because I’m right about you. You’re worried.
I’m writing you because you seem kind of sane, maybe reasonable and potentially intelligent.
I’m writing to you because it seems we’re running out of options and I think you might be capable of stepping in.
Last week, when I accidentally touched a pair of your shoes at an end-of-season sale, I whipped my hand away like it had been burned by acid. But it doesn’t have to be like that. I don’t have to hate what you sell and what you stand for. (Truthfully, the shoes were kind of cute, if your name wasn’t scrawled on the inside I might have purchased them.)
We have some similarities. Professional success is important to both of us, along with the neverending quest for a perfect set of highlights (never too yellow!). I believe we both know what’s right. I heard you speak at the Republican National Convention. You sounded downright democratic. You sounded like you understood the importance of – gasp – equality.
And so here’s what I need you to do. Publicly, if your dad is around, scorn this letter and its sentiments. Did he buy it? Good. When you can, go home. Go to the bathroom with your phone, run a bath, lock the door. Pick your phone up. Reopen this letter. Ready? I’m going to tell you some things you should know and how you are going to get yourself out of this mess.
1. Admit to yourself that your father is wrong. It is difficult to watch the ones we love and admire fall; to fail us so completely. To you he’s always seemed all-powerful. He’s loved you. He’s cared for you. How could someone you care for so much be so wrong? Sometimes the only way to cope is denial. But you’re too smart for that. You know this is wrong. Say this out loud: “he is wrong”.
2. Imagine your cute little babies being vilified when they’re grown. They’ll mature in the shadow of their grandfather’s destruction. They’ll be ashamed of their genes. They’ll be forced to carry the shame of their parents who didn’t stop him.
3. Realize he will lose. And history hates a loser. History is written by the winners and he will not win. He may ruin many more things before he goes, but his plan is a bad one and it will fall. When the dust settles we’ll all be bruised. But your family will be decimated. You’ll be the enemies. The ones who pulled hope, acceptance and change out of the sky and snuffed it out. Text books will paint your father as a bumbling narcissist at best, the puppet of the evil men he’s surrounded himself with. At worst he’ll be remembered as a hateful would-be dictator whose policies – rooted in paranoia, misinformation and hysteria – pushed America from its throne forever. Actors of a certain age will clamour to take the role of Trump, because a villainous performance of that scenery-chewing level will surely guarantee them an Oscar (if those even exist by then). His current mob of hate-spewing supporters will turn into a mob of Trump-haters. They’ll be out for revenge when they realize his plans have ruined them, have cut them off from the rest of the world, have endangered their children, ruined their way of life and … you know … they will be PISSED.
4. Acknowledge your father is stirring up hatred and empowering the wicked. David Duke supports your father’s actions. This is terrifying. I mean, I just … … I just … IT IS DAVID DUKE AND HE IS A FREAKING MONSTER. I just hopped over to his Twitter page after he insulted my Prime Minister for offering refugees a safe haven in the wake of your father’s insanity. Have you seen what he’s saying? This is the type of man who supports your father. He is evil to the core and HE believes in what your father is doing. I just … WHY?! Sorry I shouted. Let’s move on.
5. Talk him down. Way down. See if he’ll listen to reason. He seems to like you and he doesn’t seem to like much, so you have that going for you. I urge you to urge him to step down. He needs to go. He proved his point. He won the election! He beat Hilary! Case made. He can go back to his gold castle and make money and things.
6. Join the resistance. If your father won’t listen then you have two choices. The first is to blindly support him, to ignore reality, to refuse to see how this is all going to end. The second choice is hard. Really hard. You’ll have to defy him. You’ll need to march. You’ll need to put your influence and money in play and push back. You’ll need to fund rogue scientists and lawyers. You’ll need to be vocal. You’ll need to break him with your betrayal. So … you know … no biggie.
In conclusion, Ivanka, I’d just like to thank you for taking the time to read this note. Now you can hop in your bath and let warm water and expensive bubbles soothe your nagging conscience.
Or you can turn off the water, steel yourself and get to work.
You can be the hero, hell you kind of look like a cartoon princess anyway, you’re perfect for the part.
Someone who is hoping you’re the one who will listen
P.S. I also saw you tweet that photo of your dress in the middle of all this. I'm going to choose to assume that was an oversight and someone who isn't you is running your account. Anyway. I'm still hopeful.