I'm One Of Trump's Manila Folders

My statement is unprecedented.
I’m in the middle row, 8th from the bottom.
I’m in the middle row, 8th from the bottom.

My name is File #314, and I’m one of Donald J. Trump’s manila folders.

Earlier this week, I was featured alongside and underneath the hundreds of members of my immediate and extended family. Most of the time, we’re a pretty apolitical group. We usually talk about paper, holding things, filing cabinets, etc. Our discussions can no longer be so nonpartisan. The media has captured us in our most vulnerable form: naked on a folding table.

My family and I are hardworking folders. We come from Staples and OfficeMax, two pillars of organization and structure. Even if we don’t agree with the material we’re holding, it’s in our fibers to handle it with the utmost respect. It’s against our code of conduct to leak what material is held inside us, but if you opened us up, we would have no other option than to be candid.

I am not a Trump supporter. I know this will tear me and some of my family apart (not literally, we’re pretty sturdy unless you spill coffee on us), but I can’t remain silent. While I will not reveal the details of the two papers and sales receipt held together by a paperclip I hold, I will make a stand against the man I serve.

My statement is unprecedented  —  no folder of the president or president-elect has ever made a public statement. We let the papers do the talking for us. I know that most folders would tell me to close my trap and be grateful for the position I’m in  —  many folders are stuck at the top of school closets and the bottom of desk drawers  —  a small minority get time on TV. However, I am using my now public platform to speak my truth.

My name is File #314, I’m one of Donald J. Trump’s manila folders, and I am scared.