I’ve been struggling with what to write since the election results proved the opposite of what the pollsters and the media had been preparing the nation for about a week ago now. I won’t even try to disguise it—I voted for Hillary, I was with her, however reluctantly, because I hadn’t backed her in the past, but I voted on resume, my reproductive rights, the candidate with less racist rhetoric surrounding their campaign, and in (futile) effort to block what inevitably came to fruition: Trump as winning this election, and becoming the United States president-elect.

I woke up and saw the results I had seen coming on Tuesday night—and cried. Not only had the White House gone Republican, but the control of the House and the Senate as well.

I cried for the safety of my family member that struggles with gender identity and sexual orientation. I cried thinking to myself that if a medical situation arises and it’s either the original inhabitant of my body or a new being, that I would no longer be considered as the priority any longer under promises of overturning Roe vs. Wade and a Mike Pence VP pick (I am a Hoosier, and have been intimately aware of his politics). I cried for the progress that my LGBTQ friends have made and what could be undone. I cried for the fact that my family, just generations ago, included an illegal immigrant and that my family stayed together which resulted in myself and my brother being born. I cried for the fear of other religions that had bubbled to the top, even with the shouts of religious freedom (which seemingly is just for Christians).

I cried for the racism that I had seen rise up under the safety of a red baseball cap.

I called my mother and I sobbed into my cell phone, and she did her best to soothe me. She assured me that I was overreacting, that the nation had survived worse, that we would get through this. That the things that Trump had said during his campaign were to rally the Conservative vote. That a lot of campaign promises are made and that a large majority of them cannot ever be fulfilled.

Over the next week, I obsessed with finding the answers. I listened to countless podcasts about how the media missed this, how we’d stopped listening. I absorbed my Facebook newsfeed and took in the ever-widening chasm between friends, family, and colleagues. I read news reports from every news site from The New York Times, NPR, and CNN to Red Nation, Fox News, and Christian news sites. I noticed that Trump was having to backpedal on a few promises as the weight of the presidency revealed itself.

I don’t feel better. A safety pin won’t fix this. I listened to a “This American Life” that included a Muslim woman opting for hats instead of her traditional hijab, and I was sad. I have seen more reports of racist attacks and graffiti. It never left, it was maybe only rolling over in its sleep.

I watched SNL with Dave Chappelle, and the reality check we all needed: if you were listening, or aware, and not telling people what to think, this result is not shocking. Those of us that thought Hillary had it in the bag were the ignorant ones. I’m not used to being told that I have been ignorant, but I am also a white female in America. My experience is not traditionally oppressed, in the same capacity as other demographics. I am humbled.

I have watched the protests against the election results march on. I have expressed that I will stand with those who are scared, who are marginalized and oppressed, and I have read how to intervene in a racial attack. I have tried to arm myself to the best of my knowledge with ways to promote the equality I so want for those residing in this nation. I have also given in, and am going to learn how to shoot and handle a gun responsibly.

So what do we do? What can I do? Typing angrily behind my keyboard, bitterly “correcting” those on my Facebook that I don’t agree with? Though personally cathartic in small doses, it doesn’t create a positive change, and “educating” in an angry state where I’m speaking more at someone than listening? I’m not sure it’s the way to go, and it may very well have been how we ended up here.

I didn’t want to write anything until I got my emotions under control, much to my editors’ frustration, and I’ve realized nearly a week later that my emotions will not be completely under control. I find myself with the attitude now that I need to listen. Those who felt that their voices were not being heard have now spoken, and even though I refuse to support a racist, mono-religious, sexist, or xenophobic rhetoric, I will listen to the ones who have been frustrated with “the system.” I know that not everyone fits into the ugly side of this election There are many who voted in a way against mine that want similar things, that want a different look to politics, and that want America to be more productive.

One of my favorite older movies from 1939, “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, addresses political corruption and injustice, in a much lesser way and admittedly white-washed scene, but I’ll leave this reaction on a note from the filibuster scene. It is an angry white man filibustering, but the basic message always inspired me as I hope it will those who take the time to read this.

I know that my personal uncertainty and disappointment does not leave me being the only one with a lot to wander with seemingly fewer answers than usual. In this scene, Jefferson Smith, idealistic Senator who has become disillusioned and realizes how corrupt the government has been in dealing with a bill he presented to use some land for a Boy Ranger (comparable to Boy Scouts) camp. He expresses why he is filibustering and working towards a greater good. Senator Paine appointed him to his position and encouraged him to present a bill, basically to keep himself busy, and then threw him under the proverbial bus when the bill would get in the way of a corporate scheme.

He describes why he will fight for something that is deemed a “lost cause” by many: “For the only reason any man ever fights for them. Because of just one plain, simple rule: Love thy neighbor. And in this world today of great hatred a man who knows that rule has a great trust…and you know that you fight harder for the lost causes than for any others. Yes, you’d even die for them. You all think I’m licked. Well, I’m not licked. And I’m gonna stay right here and fight for this lost cause. Even if this room gets filled with lies like these, and the Taylors [representative of corrupt government practices] and all their armies come marching into this place. Somebody will listen to me.”