I think the Democrats’ campaign strategy of pointing out that DJT and friends are “weird” is interesting, and not in a good way. Rationalize it all you want, what they’re doing is name-calling, a practice perfected by DJT and Republicans. Pointing out a (perceived) truth is still name-calling, whether it be calling the kid with eleven fingers “eleven-finger-boy” or the virulent bigots “weird.” Maybe there are benefits to a good name-call; to belittle; to make an other feel small. This could be good; bringing a bully down to size might balance Power’s playing field. In fact, it’s quite a compelling campaign strategy considering the irony that for decades, the Dems have avoided stooping to the Right’s fourth-grade recess tactics, and now, having committed, they’re work with flying colors (RW&B baby!). 

It’s key to mention that Tim Walz, a welcomed nonconformant within the Democratic party, is the person who started the ‘weird’ trend. His superficialities, his small-town-white-man-high-school-football-coach appearance, it all fits the Pointing Fingers, Naming Names Bill spot on. He does not look like a Democrat. He looks like a Republican. Polarizing and stereotyping as this may be, I believe that this is the reason he is so popular within the Democratic party, especially among younger demographics. We have long awwed the old, rural white man—admired his boots, hats, and flannels, his plainspeak and his unabashed bigotry. We condemn the bigotry itself, of course, but there’s something so innocent, so baby about ignorant nonsense falling out from the jowled mouth of a grandpa who looks like he dreams about hurting flies. It’s why most Trumpers aren’t hateable; they are simple, uneducated, pitiable, almost. Tim Walz looks like one of these men, except for his weirdly jovial smile. 

Here, we arrive at a less superficial Tim Walz, the Tim Walz that everybody who knows Tim Walz describes him to be. A kind, family man, gregarious and giving, patient and understanding, hardworking and sincere. A genuinely great guy, they say. I believe it. I believe that smile. I believe Tim Walz is intent on spreading positivity, compassion, and acceptance of all. Granted, I barely know him. But I appreciate that while he looks like that, he acts like this. So part of me trusts him when he says that a good way to deal with bullies is to “take away their perceived power” (Walz 2024). To bring Donald Trump down to size. To bully Trump back?

Much of Trump’s perceived power lies in the word market, in his ability to announce childish, alliterative insults and make them stick, make them hurt. He fills a hole in the hearts of his fanbase, left hollow since the turbulence of elementary school socialization. By name-calling, Trump others. He helps his votaries feel correct for who they are (American?) by pointing out others’ differences. Trump masterfully performs an American wet dream in multiple senses: the shaming, the bragging, the comb-over. Tim Walz seeks to let him know that while the judicial arm may let Trump get away with/endorse his bullshit, the public eye will not. We must cast this perverted dream aside, cast Donald Trump aside, as weird. They’re weird, guys; we’re normal, we’re correct. 

My problem is that Donald Trump is not weird; he is powerfully normal! Which is probably why the trending jab cuts so deep. But it’s not weird to act childish until the day you die, to puff your chest and point your fingers in every which direction, to put others down to build yourself up, all while deepening the pit of shame over which you quiver on your tightrope; it’s so normal. 

We all discover this shame in our early childhood, when the love and self-acceptance pouring out of us as babies gets obscured, buried in doubts of love, belonging, and acceptance. Even in the most progressively bubbled school districts (at least in the 2010s), parents and the jungle gym teach children why to be insecure and how to counteract. Little differences—the idiosyncrasies of our bodies, voices, minds, and hearts—are much more pronounced to children. This is not a bad thing, to be clear. To a child, everything is unfamiliar and potentially threatening; observant eyes reach for conclusions; most can’t see past the binaries of good, bad, normal, and weird. But for children unaware of the pluralities of life, these pronounced differences lead to a heightened fear of not belonging. Many of us develop beautiful parts of our personality in order to distract others from or mitigate these often unavoidable differences about us—our humor, shyness, and people-pleasing. Other parts of us, like those which name-call, also form. As a result of schoolyard social demands, (these parts of) most Americans likely feel that being normal is in some way better than being weird—that fitting in is safer than standing out. 

However, I have no doubt that trying to be normal is scarier than being weird. First of all, the quest to obtain a cloak of normalcy will never end. Unrelenting mitigation and distraction from what makes you different is, first, exhausting, and second, unnecessary. Normalcy, like perfection, has no bounds, no checkpoint to cross. To be normal means to feel normal, and feeling normal necessitates a universal acceptance that will never arrive, a congruence between a normal internal self (impossible) and a normal external self (unknowable). Normalcy means fitting in, which requires A) constant vigilance, as normalcy is not inherent, only emulateable through effort, and B) to have an accurate model of normalcy. There is not one such normal person. Instagram may suggest that gym, meat, girlfriend, jeans, t-shirt means normal for one sect of human. But it’s not! Conforming to the implied demands of normalcy buries individuality and pits us against each other, like every othering practice. Encouraging normalcy by ostracizing weirdness only furthers this disastrous positive feedback loop. 

Even more important: a pursuit of normalcy is not necessary! For most adults, it’s not that important if someone is balding or has a stutter, if a man wears an Eras tour shirt or if a GNC person wears a Minnesota Twins baseball cap. Their choices deserve acceptance and respect just as much as their predispositions, because that line is impossible to find or draw. In some phrasing or another, most Americans should agree that all people deserve dignity and compassion for the frequently unfortunate inheritance that we call life. Most might also agree being unique (weird) is a wonderful thing, a powerful thing, and that displaying—as opposed to obscuring or repressing—the peculiarities of your soul brings genuine connection, love, and acceptance into your life. And some may agree that Trump’s life is devoid of such joys, that being King of the Normals does not disappear any man’s insecurities. We think highly of the self-accepted, not the self-repressed. Eyes are drawn to that which stands out, and some part of everyone feels an intense desire to be seen. Why shun that part of ourselves, when we can so intuitively accept it? 

By calling Donald Trump weird, Tim Walz asks America to redefine normal and weird. Walz hypocritically name-calls Trump, suggesting that bullying and unkindness is for weird people, and compassion is for normal people. I disagree. In my life, I have found that the cultivation and acceptance of weirdness promotes compassion, and that the homogenizing cult of normalcy promotes shame and fear. The idea of combatting a bully by making them perceive their lack of internal power and self-acceptance can be useful. Name-calling namecallers, and hitting them where it hurts can work. It clearly hurt Donald Trump, a man intent on othering, to be othered. Walz’s strategy is working, and it may just save the future of humanity. But I don’t like it. Walz indirectly casts aspersions on the wonderful weirdos of the world. He reinforces America’s status quo of othering through name-calling, of utilizing insecurities against each other. He uses the label ‘weird’ as a beacon of non-belonging, as an insult instead of a compliment. But I like weird. Weird is good. 

Works Cited

1. Anderson Cooper 360, CNN, July 30 2024, Interview with Tim Walz

2. https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1201174944254256