Tuesday night I sit with my friend’s watching the numbers on our television screen move up. I remember doing this for Obama’s second term but the only difference is I was alone.
And I had much less on the line.
But that Tuesday night my friends and I sit, watching the television, laughing as we scan Twitter as our teachers and fellow college students tweet what they think of the election thus far. No one could imagine that Trump would win.
I live in deep Georgia; I go to a University that is conservative but in my own little major it’s primarily liberal. We kind of have to be, being Writing Majors. A good number of us are women or LGBT or of color and the people who aren’t still support us one hundred percent. So being in this major we are given a taste of the good life.
On Monday one of my professors Jared Sexton walked in and said “Hillary is going to win; we have nothing to worry about.” And we believed him. Sexton goes to rally’s; he was in person at the presidential debates and I learned more from him about politics than I did my government teacher.
So, that Tuesday night when Trump was named President, all our jaws hit the floor. I went home at two AM to my roommates who couldn’t believe what happened. We all identify within the LGBT spectrum and two of my roommates are a POC. I feared for what would happen when we walked to the bus stop the next day to go to class.
It wasn’t until I got to my Mass Communications class the next day that I got the full impact of this presidency. The class has two hundred people in it and on a good day fifty people show up. All two hundred of us were there. We were scared, we were fearful and we needed help. Our teacher has been in the Mass media field his whole life. He worked as a news anchor reporting on this stuff all the time and we wanted answers. What now? He didn’t know what to say.
Then he asked if we were all being safe and that’s when a black student raised her hand and said “someone spit at me this morning and yelled Trump 2k16”.
This is just the start.
With the rise of Trump, his followers were given permission to be racist, sexist, homophobic and anything else you can name. And I’m talking about all his supporters and I’m sorry to the people who aren’t any of those things who follow Trump. I can’t tell the difference when I’m walking down the street, at night, in fear. A Trump supporter is a Trump supporter. You are now conditioned in my head to avoid at all costs or I could get hurt.
Something I have seen on my newsfeed recently is people wanting to move to Canada or some other country. On Tuesday night, the Canadian site for citizenship crashed because of the number of people researching it. My friends joke about leaving but I know they aren’t serious, still it hurts.
I love this country; we are lucky to have the freedoms that we do have and we are lucky we get to choose who we want for president. I don’t want to leave, it’s my home and I won’t leave. I’m not moving, I’m not a victim of the Trump presidency and I am going to fight this at all costs or die trying.
Something I learned about my generation in the past years is that we are the loud generation. We like noise, we like to listen to ourselves talk but more importantly we are not silent. Black Lives Matters showed me that a group of people can stand together and make change. They can spark conversation and even make new movements. (Even if those movements are against them).
We are going to scream, we are going to protest, and we will never stop reminding the United States of America of the mistake they made. When all the minorities come together, we become a majority, and it’s beautiful what we can accomplish together. We are not scared of what we have to lose because at this point there’s no loss. Our job market is gone, we are paying out our ass in student loans, and minorities are being murdered every day. We are done being quiet, we are done letting older generations make decisions, because their future is in the past, ours is right now. And we aren’t happy.
We will never stop fighting.