Weeks into Trump’s America, I, like many others, are facing a myriad of realities that are so virtuously un-American and hateful that I have been gathering my thoughts in order to write this article for what seems like ages— to do it the most justice possible. There are many anti-Trump articles, it's frightening that major news sources, like the New York Times or CNN or even the Wall Street Journal has spoken so outwardly towards a national leader only to be angrily tweeted at by the President himself.

This past December, I had breakfast with a family member that, you guessed it, is a Trump supporter, sold into the grand ideal that Trump will, “Make America Great Again.” After shooting down claims that Hillary Clinton had not, in fact, “paid for her daughter’s wedding using the Clinton Foundation proceeds” and educating him on the future of healthcare, the EPA, and the broken education system, he only complimented me on my ability to know my facts, not honoring that they were, well, facts.

The thing that has stuck with me most, although this was weeks ago, I still think about it daily: he began to talk about how immigrants, were stealing jobs and how minorities were gifted more opportunities than white people in America. He went on to say that he, himself, as a white man, had suffered and been discriminated against because of his whiteness and expressed how very angry he was about that.

I don’t know how I managed to keep my cool— me, as a biracial woman, where half of my race came from this man— could handle listening to what he truly believed in. After taking a sip of my coffee, I said, “I would like to remind you that I am a half Vietnamese minority woman that is working three jobs— all earned, not given— to get through school and pay for my own apartment in Chicago where I am one of four students in one of the best programs in this country.”

He was very quiet after that, and my face burned with pride for my mother’s culture and passion for my identity.

We ended on a somewhat positive note, knowing full well that while I had done my best to push him to learn and read more about his country, he would go on mindlessly believing the lies the alt-right had engrained into him.

Earlier this week, I had the privilege of marching in the Women’s March in Chicago. While I had difficulties with some of the issues that came along with it; i.e. the explicit use of female genitalia representing “womanhood”, the lack of inclusion that came along with it, the uplifting of white feminism, etc. I knew I had to march.

While David Brooks of the Times said that the march was not the way to change America, you can not deny that there was somewhat of an awakening that has followed since.

I marched because I have family members that believe that minorities, like me, are somehow stealing opportunities from them, despite the fact that I have earned and worked harder, if not equally in return.

I marched because women's rights are human rights. Abortion is a legal procedure in America. Sexual education and protection needs to be available and accessible because instead of teaching not to rape, we teach how to avoid getting raped and even invented a nail polish to assist in this process.

I marched because racism is prevalent in our culture and relevant in our everyday lives. Racism is real. Police brutality is real. Racial profiling is real. There is no such thing as not seeing color.

I marched because the American education system is broken. Nobody goes to college to learn, it has become a stepping stone to further careers to pay off student loans and secure a house in the suburbs. We are cutting programs like art and music and theatre without providing adequate supplies for teachers in order to save money and funnel students through whatever gets them into a college to get a job and complete this infuriating cycle.

I marched because English is not the official language of America— there isn’t one. Let that sink in.

I marched because there are women that believe that they, “do not need feminism” after inheriting the rights to vote and own property based off of feminists before them. The levels of inequality for women, especially women of color, are astounding and the fight is no where near over yet. I refuse to earn less than a man when I am just as evenly skilled and intelligent.

I marched because America is a stolen land that was and is built on the work of immigrants.

I marched because sexuality should not define my existence as a woman, let alone a human being.

I marched because healthcare is not something that should be privatized. Healthcare should be accessible for every American, regardless of history or socio-economic status. Prescription medicine should not be marked up 200% of the cost.

I marched because I loathe the people using the church in the name of Christianity to deny rights to men and women coming to America for safety and protection. “Above all, love each other deeply” 1 Peter 4:8. Jesus weeps.

I marched because I am sick of people encouraging others to “come together” under a leader that I did not vote for, that I do not respect, and that is most definitely not for “all Americans.” I am doing the most democratic thing I believe I can do, I am making my voice heard, and I am fighting for what I can, despite my circumstances.

I am a mixed Asian American woman that is making her way into a male dominated industry, toting three jobs as a full time student, and I marched because people are what will make America great again, not a fear mongering misogynistic racist figure head.