Donald Trump Isn’t Funny Anymore

Donald+J.+Trump+speaks+to+supporters+during+a+rally+at+the+Fort+Worth+Convention+Center+on+Friday%2C+Feb.+26%2C+2016%2C+in+Fort+Worth%2C+Texas.

MCT Campus: (Ron Jenkins/Fort Worth Star-Telegram/TNS)

Donald J. Trump speaks to supporters during a rally at the Fort Worth Convention Center on Friday, Feb. 26, 2016, in Fort Worth, Texas.

Donald Trump, for the last few months, had been considered a joke. He has made ignorant statements and then all of Twitter would mock him. It became a daily hobby of mine to check Twitter for new jokes about Trump.

On Monday, Trump spoke out against Muslims, vowing to ban them from entering the U.S. Saying he’s a joke isn’t funny anymore. His ignorance is not a punchline.

I’ve never had a big family and the Holocaust is to blame for that. Growing up Jewish I’d hear the horrors of what my older family members had gone through. My great uncle refused to talk about his time in a concentration camp, but the deep scars on his arms told me everything I needed to know without him saying a word.

When I was sitting with my mom listening to Trump’s speech, our eyes were glued, “It’s common sense and we have to do it,” said Trump. “Donald J Trump is calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States until our country’s representatives can figure out what the hell is going on.”

My mom kept her eyes on the screen and I had to look away. The cheers that followed his speech left us quiet. My memories returned to my great uncle. He was a happy man but he had moments where he’d freeze and get lost inside himself, especially when I asked him to tell me stories about his family.

“Don’t do that,” my mother would say, scolding me.

The six-year-old me would become very confused and only wanted to ask more questions, but my mother’s wrath was not something I wanted to experience.

I later learned that both of his parents died at a concentration camp. I still don’t know much about him or his childhood, he never talked about it to anyone.

But hearing the cheers that echoed after Trump’s speech reminded me of the scars on my great uncle’s scars- the physical and the mental ones.

By supporting Donald Trump people are supporting the growth of Islamophobia. A few extremists should not be the representatives of a whole religion.

My Great Uncle used to tell me that if people didn’t learn from their mistakes, history was bound to repeat itself. I’m hoping that he was wrong.

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