Dear President Trump,
You declared your candidacy June 16, 2015. Just a little over a year and a half ago. That day the world didn't stand still. No one was eagerly staring at their TVs to see what you'd do next. We all just went on with our day. We shrugged you off, and some of us even laughed at what we assumed was the ridiculous and near-impossible notion of a Trump presidency.
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That was our mistake.
Mr. Trump, I remember riding in the car with my family that sunny day in June. I think you were mentioned maybe five minutes out of the two hours we were driving. My dad said something along the lines of "You see Trump's running?" And my mom half-heartedly followed with something like "'Cause that'll happen."
NO ONE saw you coming... But you did come.
Mr. Trump, I remember when you became the Republican candidate. July 19, 2016, the day your fear-mongering and hateful rhetoric bought you one of only two golden tickets to the White House, to the captain's helm on what now feels like the Titanic.
I think that was the first day I ever felt scared and the first day I ever questioned the greatness of my country.
Mr. Trump, I remember the day you won, and those of us who were with her, or just anyone else, were now forced to be with you. That was such a weird day. I felt exposed, uncomfortable and afraid. But I told myself, I have to respect the choice of my peers and the position of the president even if I can't respect the man who holds it. I told myself to pray for you, to pray that you'll prove us naysayers wrong and actually make America great again. But in the back of my mind I couldn't help think, what would tomorrow bring? And the next four years?
Today, you answered my questions.
This morning, I woke up to my Facebook feed drowning in posts about Vahideh Rasekhi. Mr. Trump, Rasekhi is a Ph.D. student in Linguistics and President of the Graduate Student Organization at my school, Stony Brook University. You've probably never met her or even know her name, but, this weekend, your travel ban detained Rasekhi within the walls of John F. Kennedy Airport. You see, she was visiting family in Iran when you first made the ban, and, even though it is legal for her to be in the U.S., she wasn't allowed to reenter the country. In fact, Rasekhi was put on a flight back to Tehran through the Ukraine when Federal Judge Ann Donnelly responded "stay" to your deportations.
Now my only question is: How does it feel to be blocked?
Luckily, Rasekhi's plane was ordered back to the gate before it took off, and tonight, she can go home. A home in a country, Mr. Trump, where she, and others like her, will always be welcome.
Why? Because love wins today and from now on.
You will never make America hate again.
Sincerely,
Home of the Free and the Brave
.
