I was sitting on my bed, curled up in a ball watching Steve Kornacki talk about counties in Pennsylvania and Michigan. He spoke rapidly until Rachel Maddow cut him off with an election alert. Mostly, it’s to change the language from “too early to call” to “too close to call.” By now it’s 11:12 p.m., and my eyes are bloodshot and watering from all the MSNBC I’ve consumed. So I decided that it was time to hit the hay. BUT, before I do, I checked the NYTimes needle once more. The hope I once had to see a female president in the White House quickly diminishes as the needle hits 90% in favor of Trump. So I turned the TV off and closed my eyes hoping that this nightmare will be over when I wake up.
I unfortunately was wrong and am now faced with the fact that the next four years will be immensely challenging and terrifying. I am scared for my rights, but I am utterly horrified for what is to come for minorities in our country. I spent November 6 thinking about black and brown men and women, Asian Americans, LGBTQ members, immigrants, and women who live in a state where abortion is banned. I’m lucky enough to keep colleges in red states on my list because I have the resources to travel back home in the event that I need an abortion. However, the number of people who have that same luxury is very small compared to those who don’t. I wish more than anything that I was 18 on November 5 and would have cast my vote in support of them.
I took the next few days to process the results. I spent the first day crying and grieving and fearing what is to come. I realized that the next four years aren’t going to be the years where I’ll be at college enjoying myself and my studies. Instead they’ll be 48 long months where misogyny, xenophobia, and bigotry will flourish.
My biggest concern for the next four years is the threat the new administration poses on education. I keep receiving New York Times app notifications about southern states like Texas adding bible studies into their curriculum. Our country is divided on many things, and the separation of church and state and now education has become one of them.
Then comes the banned book epidemic. Restrictions can’t only be placed on my body, they also have to be placed on pieces of literature like “The Bluest Eye” and “The Handmaid’s Tale.” I fear by 2029, the genre of dystopian and science fiction will disappear into thin air on claims that they’re “too harmful”.
After multiple conversations with family like my aunt, grandmother, and dad, I realized that my life is too short to grieve and worry about things that are far in the future. While my right to choose and right to read what I like is under fire, I have a responsibility to have hope in this moment of despair.
On Wednesday morning, after ranting to my mom about how stressed I am, she sent me a text: “I am optimistic tho that people like you care and want to right the wrongs of the generations that precede you.”
It’s after I receive her text that my perspective on the situation shifts. She’s right (she always is). After writing countless college supplements about my interest in policy and women’s rights, spending time working with Senators, and learning more about politics in Mr. Greenstone’s “America Adrift” elective, it is clear to me that my career of being a politician starts here. The MAGA agenda is only going to get worse as the years go by, so why sit and watch when I could contribute to our democracy in a productive way?
Throughout the countless conversations I have had with friends, family, teachers, and administrators, I have realized that I am not alone in my feeling of despair and hopelessness. However, I have also come to realize that the world doesn’t end. My journey to becoming a politician starts here. It starts with a loss for our democracy, and it continues on into my own journey of what I will make of the next four years. As my mom said, I have the opportunity to right the wrongs of the generations that precede me, and to make change for those that follow my own.
