Do Better is an op-ed column by writer Lincoln Anthony Blades that debunks fallacies regarding the politics of race, culture, and society — because if we all knew better, we'd do better.

Journalists, pundits, politicians, and civilians have recently shared stories about what the anniversary of the 2016 election means, and how the past year of having Donald Trump as president has affected them, as well as the nation at large.

On November 8, 2016, America elected the man currently known as the most unpopular president in the history of political polling (at this number of days in office since being sworn in), according to FiveThirtyEight, and it has changed the nation on the whole. Some argue that Trump has changed the very essence of American politics; others have conversely said that nothing has really changed at all. There are even some who've opined that Trump's election has changed how Americans date.

Since the election, there has been one massive societal impact that, as a journalist, I've noticed: the merciless Trump tragedy cycle. It's havoc that we, the media, helped him wreak.

The Trump tragedy cycle can be defined as our news cycle's constant state of being overwhelmed by Trump's erratic agenda and his reactions to catastrophes out of his control. Through deliberate policy — like the travel ban impacting mostly majority-Muslim countries — or his inappropriate, and often bigoted, response to terror attacks, Trump places himself in the middle of controversy that either causes mass hardship or exacerbates it. Before there's a chance to investigate, understand, and adapt to a tragedy, too often under Trump we — citizens and media alike — find ourselves shifting our collective attention to his unprecedented antics, thoughtless tweets, and general inability to show poise or grace.

Many members of the media are recalling the year since the election with memories that don't go back far enough. The day that the Trump tragedy cycle really began was on June 16, 2015, when he descended that Trump Tower escalator to call Mexicans drug dealers, criminals, and rapists. From that day forward, his every tweet, insult, bigoted remark, and inconsiderate accusation has been infused with zeal. Trump's behavior garnered clicks for our websites and brought more eyes to our broadcasts and newspapers, creating what has been referred to as the "Trump bump." It caused a fundamental shift in reporting: Much of the media stopped looking to see whether a subject fit into our coverage, instead shifting coverage to accommodate the subject.

There is a nuance that must be applied to "we" as the media, since different organizations handled Trump very differently. I've covered his candidacy and presidency for such diverse newsrooms as Ebony and Teen Vogue, where the aim wasn't to capitalize off of the Trump sideshow, but rather to inform and empower their audiences — many of whom are the targets of his hateful promises. But some other newsrooms, especially many mainstream sources, saw Trump as an opportunity for economic gain and reveled in providing coverage of his most unbalanced remarks. They covered the candidate with balance, despite Trump's constant salvo of outright lies (vilely labeled as "alternative facts" by Kellyanne Conway, counselor to the president), bigoted bloviating, and posturing presented as liberation from stifling "political correctness."

The reckless calamity that is this president — a billionaire reality-TV star and real estate magnate who has already experienced more than a lifetime's worth of public drama from his six business bankruptcies and federal suits over racist rental practices — is now our news cycle, too. It's exhausting. While Trump has seemingly become quite comfortable with compounding and bouncing between unresolved controversies, the rest of us — media and civilians alike — are breathlessly trying to catch up with new daily madness even before being able to process the absurdity of the previous 24 hours. Attempts to give pivotal moments the attention and social/political responses they deserve are undercut by the rapid speed with which they occur.