To My Future Daughter,

I was 18 years old when Donald Trump was elected president. On November 8^th, 2016 a few friends and I from College Democrats went to the DFL victory party in downtown Minneapolis. We were college freshmen, all attending the same party as many senators and the governor. Completely out of place. But there we were fresh-faced, excited, and toasting with stolen glasses of cheap wine. I knew I was going to cry when Hillary won,memories of being catcalled, ignored, and dismissed were to be a distant memory when that glass ceiling finally shattered.

However, things soon went downhill. Once Trump won Florida the mood in the ballroom flipped and I soon began to doubt. But those feelings of doubt melted into true devastation an hour later. Pantsuit clad and button-donning people alike were shedding tears. We left the Hilton Minneapolis in an uber back to St. Thomas. We knew that it was over and all we wanted was to be in a refuge where we felt safe.

That didn’t happen. Looking back, I should have seen it coming. After all, my friends and I were a spec of blue in a red campus. While walking back to our dorm, we crossed paths with a group of vineyard- vine wearing Trump supporters carrying a GOP Elephant Flag. I may or may not have (but definitely did) boo and say “You suck”. I knew that it wouldn’t help anything but I didn’t care. My only regret is that I didn’t say something wittier. Anyways, I sprinted back to my dorm and climbed into my bed just wanting to sleep for the few hours I had. I was awakened by cheers of “Trump” and “USA” and had a mini-meltdown trying to close the window. Eventually I dozed off, but I could still hear those chants in the distance.

I woke up the next morning with a knot in my stomach. I skipped Sociology and went to breakfast instead. I thought I was fine. It wasn’t until I saw some of Hillary Clinton’s concession speech that I truly lost it. It felt as if she was speaking directly to me,“And to all of the little girls who are watching this, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your dreams.” A chord struck inside of me and I could not control my tears. I saw what I lost, what we all lost. I realized how much “President Hillary Clinton” would have meant to me. I was overwhelmed with grief and struck with sobs. My professor, someone who I looked up to but didn’t feel like made a good enough impression, hugged me and told me to let it out. And I did. She did too. She told me that we were strong women and we would get through this. We would get through this. Even though I felt like I didn’t matter, even though I felt like I didn’t have a voice, we would get through this.

A day later, I was marching on I-94 with hundreds of protesters. I was scared. But as we marched through predominantly Muslim neighborhoods, people came outside while we chanted “Muslim lives matter” and “Refugees are welcome here.” I felt lucky to see how happy and thankful they looked, as they waved and smiled.

The next day, an anti-racism rally was held on campus. I saw how brave and strong my classmates were. I began to feel like I might matter, and that my voice does too. I began to feel inspired to do more, to say more, to be more.

And this is where you come in. I don’t know when you will be born, or the color of your skin, or your sexual orientation. But I do know that you deserve a world where you are judged on the strength of your character, not the size of your breasts. A place where there are no rewards for misogyny. A place where your voice carries weight. Where you feel represented.

We are not there yet. But I can promise you this- I won’t stop fighting until we are. Because you deserve better.

And your mom does too.

Love,

Mom.