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Politics and Activism

Not My President

Tomorrow, I will focus on looking forward, but today, Donald Trump is not my president.

11
Not My President
AM New York

Donald Trump, you are not my president.

I hope that my denial is not perceived as childish, immature, or unhealthy, but rather, as a coping mechanism towards the most conflicting decision I have experienced- a decision that ultimately, forces me to decide whether to completely forget every moral and value that I have been raised on, or decide to be a voice of change that does not allow such acts of hate and violence.

I hope that my denial is not seen as arrogant, but rather as an acceptance that I will not and should not align myself with someone who stands for values that I have never seen as correct, because the disconnect I feel towards one human-being should feed and promote an empowering change in direction; strengthening all those I love and trust, and those ready to further society.

Unfortunately, this election has supported such a large disengagement from the meanings of right and wrong, and the way in which I can persist that much needed change proves to be confusing right now.

These past few days, I have had so many thoughts. Thoughts that contradict each-other every five seconds, thoughts that make me want to scream and punch a wall, while simultaneously having sudden empowering bursts that in some way, have more power over me than anything has in a while. While very unsure of the future; unsure of many things, I am trying to breathe, and utilize those moments where I suddenly want to suddenly fight crime and change the world, to my advantage.

I am working on it.

In the most exhausting manor, this election has been extremely significant. Loudly and clearly, the results informed a vast majority of the American public that the opposing majority of the American public lacks the empathy and desire to put political matters aside, while consequently putting sexism, racism, and homophobia at the forefront of their decision making. Those who have decided to accept a candidate who supports such lack of respect towards the individualities of the world, whether it be whomever I choose not to affiliate with, or those people I see every-day, exemplify qualities most find impossible to understand.

I feel out of place, among other emotions. For lack of a more eloquent way in describing November 8th, it was extremely disorienting. To describe the days following the election would be extremely difficult, as I have spent most of them in shock, unable to formulate words, whilst also wanting to take all words and scream them off a building, because I simply cannot fathom how the opinions I have grown up with, could differ so strongly from many.

Overwhelmed with fear, I’m thinking of my sister, a ten-year-old girl who has not felt the same positive and forward-thinking influence that the Obama’s have had on our country. She will now grow up with a president that believes her intelligence holds no power, and that her value is as a tangible as her beauty. As much as I know this is not the case, as much as I will not accept this lack in fundamental decency, she will now have to fight harder and harder to prove this to herself, and to others. I have fear because the excitement I once had towards her growing up in the most progressive era yet, holds little value after Tuesday night’s results.

I want to talk about politics, I want to be able to think that Obama was an amazing eight years, and that four years could be a small setback, only to influence a much greater hope for the future. That being said, politics have fallen a bit off my radar, as lately. I feel let down by all of the ethics I have ever known and stood by.

He is not my president.

I am allowed to be upset. Do not expect me to make conversation about trivial things because I need to check out for a while. Do not ask me to wake up and feel comfort in my own skin because I am now aware of the many who do not find trust in me; in my intelligence, capabilities, and strengths. I cannot wrap my head around this, and rushing to do would likely be unhealthy. To abandon all of your views and standards of living in order to defeat this denial is wrong.

Yes, one day I will accept his presidency, but that day is not today. On that note, that day does not mean I will ever accept his indecency, nor does it mean I won’t grieve.

Though I am angry, really quite horrified, I am inspired by the intelligence and boldness of those around me, and that is motivating in an amazing and beneficial way. Ultimately, if we can utilize those bursts of empowerment, there is a tremendous amount of hope towards proving that the backwards and manipulative tactics of one man may just be the turning point for a more united nation.

Sitting on an uncomfortably unsteady bus to Boston, I passed a cab with a sign on it: We Can Cure Cancer in Your Lifetime. Yes, we can, we can, we can. (Burst of empowerment)

And then we can’t. Because in a few months, Donald Trump will be entering the White House.

I realize the socioeconomic future of our country has little to do with the sign on a cab, but in an attempt to express my emotions, it is representative of the constant and seemingly endless spiral within my brain right now. I am having a hard time understanding and fully comprehending; comprehending the reasons why people aren’t reacting just as I am, comprehending why I feel so personally impacted, comprehending how much longer this slap in the face is going to last.

For a little while longer, I need to be affected. In a way, I hope that my overwhelming desire to fill this void of confusion will stay, because as soon as I actually do fill that void, I am fearful that will mean I have accepted and allowed such a hateful man to dictate and define my values, and my future.

Tomorrow, I will focus on looking forward, but today, he is not my president.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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