American Perp Walk | Juvenile Justice
My Kids Draw the President
Three portraits of Trump’s resting rich face
Sprawled on our kitchen floor, where milk often splatters and the cat sometimes hacks up hairballs, my children sketched three portraits of President Trump.
This was a voluntary assignment, an experiment to see Mr. Trump through the eyes of children. After negotiations involving Oreos and Nintendo privileges, my kids agreed to take a stab at drawing our commander in chief.
I left the room to avoid distracting or influencing my 10-year old twins and their 8-year old brother. But of course growing up in a house where I curse at FOX news they were bound to be a little biased. When I returned, I was delighted to see three drawings as unique as each young artist. Placed side by side, these portraits looked like eyewitness sketches rendered by a police artist who’s gotten increasingly stoned.
Family Freud Art Show
My oldest son asked me which drawing was the best. Parents can’t choose favorites, so I said each kid’s drawing was the best at showing a different side of the president’s psyche:
Trump’s Ego
My 10-year-old daughter is a shy yet mischievous cartoonist. She caricatured Mr. Trump as he’s depicted in his official spray-tanned portraits — the public face of the man described by Patton Oswalt as “a hobo’s idea of a rich guy.”
She captured Mr. Trump’s nutcracker mouth and the fat pouches padding his piggy eyes. His ears, appearing as smooth as kidney beans, are deaf to reason and experts’ advice. And his chin looks like a bar of soap dropped into a bucket of gravy.
The drawing’s bottom is left unfinished like Gilbert Stuart’s iconic painting of George Washington, sans his reputation for telling the truth.
This is a portrait of a suit without lapels, a shirt without a collar, an Ego without scruples.
Trump’s Super Ego
My 10-year-old son’s drawing style is different from his twin sister’s. He’s less about technique and more about emotion. His sketch is rumpled by vigorous pencil strokes and multiple erasures.
Mr. Trump’s thatched hair is an empty eagle’s nest. Unevenly dilated eyes may signify brain trauma. His piranha mouth lies in wait above a Mussolini chin.
The drawing reminds me of art by George Grosz, an artist who chronicled the decadent denizens of prewar Berlin.
If you read between the lines, you’ll see a portrait of Trump’s Super Ego caught between a feckless angel and a reckless devil, both whispering dubious legal counsel.
Trump’s Id
My 8-year old son’s drawing captures the “baby boss” inside the man. His portrait looks like an age-regressed mashup of
Trump, Reagan, and The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Wispy angel hair levitates above a stormy visage. Darkness looms behind a crooked border wall of teeth. Radar dish ears scan the zeitgeist for compliments, insults, or useful disinformation. His jacket off, Mr. Trump sports a Gordon Gecko dress shirt and a teensy-weensy tie. I’ll spare you the phallic interpretations.
This drawing is an x-ray of Mr. Trump’s inner tantrums. It reminds me of the giant monstrous id in the 1950’s sci-fi movie Forbidden Planet who feeds off the inhabitants’ subconscious fears and desires. Sound familiar?
Out of the mouth of babes comes truth or wisdom (unlike the President’s babes who give press conferences). When our kids say the emperor has no clothes, we should listen to them and quickly throw on a bathrobe to cover our collective delusions. And then, maybe someday, we can see the truth as clearly as our kids do — even if it’s taped on the fridge, drawn in crayon and decorated with glue-sticked fusilli.
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You may also enjoy reading my story: My Kids Draw Sarah Huckabee Sanders: Three portraits of the White House Press Dissembler
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S. J. Newman is a freelance Creative Director and a certified writer at Comedywire where he heckles current events. See the usual suspects walk the red carpet of shame on his Medium blog, American Perp Walk.
