Why This is Personal

This hurts. This is gutting, like the wind has been knocked out of us. When you have to wake up in the morning in a fog, trying to remember what horrible thing had happened and then you feel the weight slowly pressing on your chest. This feels personal. But, why does this feel so personal? Why are we experiencing mourning? Why did I ugly cry? I’ve lost elections before (Bush, anyone?), but not like this. This is not just my liberal butt being whooped, it’s what this represents. Life is not just literal, it is also symbolic. When someone demeans and insults you and then is elected, it’s personal. To the people who are scorning the liberals being upset, I think you’re missing the point. I don’t necessarily agree with protesting that Trump got elected because it’s unproductive, but I would be the first on the streets to protest if he starts doing what he said he would. People are personally upset and here’s why:

After drinking too much and crying my way through Tuesday night, I opened my computer (with which I was watching the election) to find a tissue plastered to the screen in some sad comedy.

By voting for and electing someone, you also uphold their ideals. That is what is so devastating. A man who has demeaned and bullied women, Mexicans, immigrants, refugees, veterans, Muslims, disabled people, and more got voted to be president. A bigot. We elected a bigot to be our leader. I know that many people voted for Trump for change and that you don’t necessarily believe in his values. But, you still voted for him and upheld those bigoted values. You voted for someone who said to a woman on national television that she would be a pretty sight on her knees and who grabs women by their genitals. You didn’t just vote for change. You voted for the things he said too, whether you choose to believe it or not.

That is why so many of us are upset. Not just because we lost (that hurts too), but because we feel that people threw away their morals and threw social justice to the wolves. We fear for our oppressed brothers and sisters. This is personal when a person who wants to oppress almost everyone but white men gets put in the highest position of power. This cuts us so deeply and threatens to push us to the edge of despair, losing faith in our fellow Americans. We are in a period of mourning, but we know we have to put that down soon in order to protect our fellow people who will soon be targeted.

I grew up in Santa Monica, California, a beachy hippie town (unfortunately now turning hipster) and in Los Angeles county. I grew up in an incredibly diverse place where Mexican was my favorite food and Spanish was a language I used daily.  I remember Day of the Dead celebrations at school more than Halloween. I went to public schools until college, where it was a melting pot of black, Latino, Indian, Asian, white, and every religion you could think of. I had friends of all different colors and religions, I knew their pain points and triumphs. I have dated people from a myriad of races. I learned to respect others at a very young age and humility was always a value in our household and circle of people I grew up around. I was taught I could love whoever I loved, that I’m not better than anyone and that nobody is better than me. I learned social justice at a young age and exercised my right to protest, doing a walkout in high school to protest the war. I picked up cigarettes off the beach every year and developed a very deep love and respect for the earth and its inhabitants. I pledged to protect it and its people. I then went on to study Peace & Conflict studies as well as Philosophy. I led a club in college called JustPeace where I organized, led, and encouraged acts of social justice. But, it was a Catholic college with an incredible amount of white students, many from rich, entitled families. It was something to adjust to and to understand.

I obviously grew up in a liberal town and feel lucky for it. I worked, I studied, I played, I struggled, I experienced side by side people who were unlike me. This led me to understand them, not as blacks, Latinos, Muslims, immigrants, gays, but as humans. They were my friends, my family, my brethren. And I knew I would always protect my fellow human. This is the upbringing I wish we all had in the sense of living in diversity. Then, maybe people wouldn’t turn a blind eye to all the hatred and oppression coming from Trump’s mouth and still vote for him. Maybe they would actually know someone who would be affected and they wouldn’t want that person to be persecuted. Maybe they would see these people as humans and not labels. Maybe they wouldn’t have held such fear. Maybe they would have voted against bigotry. It makes me especially sad to see how many women voted for a man who belittles, objectifies, and brags about sexually assaulting women. That speaks volumes of what a misogynistic culture they grew up in and were surrounded by, that they are willing to vote for a man who thinks so lowly of women. I’m sorry that you feel that way.

It’s not personal because democrats lost. It’s personal because so many humans agreed to elect a human who has attacked so many different kinds of humans. And people are okay with that. That’s what hurts. We are grieving for the apparent loss of morals, social justice, and respect in the name of “change.” This election slapped me in the face of the realization that I live in a bubble. I was so confident Hillary could win because how could a hateful oppressive clown beat her? I “knew” it would be a landslide. I was wrong and it only revealed the thickness of my bubble. I don’t hate you if you’re a Trump supporter (unless you’re one of these people), I am only disappointed in you. I’m trying to gather my faith for Americans back into this little jar, trying to process my grief and put it on the shelf, and trying to get to my feet to be ready to stand for those who will ultimately be persecuted. Trump will be the president. Accept it, grieve for it, feel it, and then stand strong and be ready to stand up. Protect your fellow human, be kind, and don’t fall to apathy. Never give up fighting for what’s right.

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