I’ve been trying to come to terms with the results of the election on Tuesday. To be honest I’ve been completely numb to it and am slowly coming to terms with it. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight it or support those that do.
The truth of the matter, whether Republicans want to admit it or not, is that when Trump was elected president all minorities, people of color, women, LGBT, sexual assault victims, those with disabilities, and people with immigrant family members or are immigrants themselves were devalued and told their lives do not matter.
So why did I vote? I didn’t vote for myself but for those who couldn’t. For those who are undocumented or too afraid to vote for those because of their family or whatever reason. I voted for those I know and love who have been sexual assaulted, degraded because of things they cannot control. I voted to confirm that their lives matter.
As a fat, white woman with good insurance I do not fear the future for myself. I am already mistreated daily because of my weight and many times I wonder if it can get any worse. I know my privileges and know I have less to fear then my dear friend who recently came out as bisexual or my classmate that is Latino. But still I am scared. scared for those I love, scared for my country, and maybe, if I’m honest, a bit scared for myself.
I know people oppose me. People I know and love and I don’t mind discussing with you but I will NOT argue about how Trump does not have the ability to bring out the worst in people because he 100% does and we are seeing it unfold right in front of our eyes. And anyone who says otherwise is blind.
I wish I could end this post on a more positive note but I’m not sure how because very little seems to be positive right now. The day after the election the atmosphere on campus was suffocating. People were crying, drinking, and banging their heads against the walls. And not because they are cry babies but because they are terrified for their lives and that alone should speak volumes.
I know that God is in control. But so did Jesus when he wept after the death of Lazarus.