My close friends blame me for everything that Donald Trump does.
One year ago I, a lifelong Democrat, wrote in The Free Press that I had just voted for Trump. I realized that my party had turned its back on working-class families like my own—in favor of identity politics, free trade, and open borders.
Many people warned me about publishing the essay. They told me the reaction would be brutal, and they were right. Strangers on the internet relentlessly harassed me. Death threats flooded my inboxes. People accused me of being a Russian asset.
