Last night, when I turned off my bedside lamp, Trump was ahead of Clinton. I couldn’t watch anymore. I went to bed hoping for the best but expecting the worst. When I woke up this morning I discovered that what I dreaded had come to be.
I was devastated. I was sad, angry, shocked and frustrated. What will America become under this president? What has America been all these years without my noticing? What will happen?
Somehow I managed to roll out of bed and get the day started. Jack and I had breakfast and talked about the election. I told him not to be scared, that this was merely a shadow going over us for a time, it would end, I loved him and would protect him with my life. He told me not to be sad, because at least there’s still bananas (7-year-old logic). I told him I didn’t know what we were going to do. He mentioned Canada. I shrugged, “Maybe.”
If we’re friends you’ve probably heard me say on occasion that I would move to Canada if Trump won the election. So now Trump has won and the words of The Clash have been running through my head all day; “Should I stay or should I go now?”
I was leaning heavily towards go. As a middle class, white woman currently living in America I recognize that that statement comes from a place of privilege. Those most affected by a Trump presidency, as a friend pointed out to me, aren’t able to leave. A Trump presidency frightens me. So my statement of intent to leave not only comes from a place a privilege, it comes from a place of fear.
Leaving seemed the best thing for me to do. “Get out while you still can!” my panicking, shocked brain yelled at me. But then I went on Facebook. Facebook has not been a comfort lately (or ever really). So, I can’t pinpoint exactly why I thought checking it would be a good idea. In fact, I made a vow to myself not to check it for weeks. But my will power check failed and on I went.
The notifications were high so I clicked there first and saw one of my cohorts had posted an article on our UW page, so I clicked on it and read. I felt a little fire start to glimmer somewhere inside me. There was still plenty of bus ride left after I finished the article so the Newsfeed was next. Person after person were posting their reactions to the results. There was so much talk of fighting for good, standing up for what’s right and not leaving anyone behind. The fire in me started to spark a bit more.
As soon as I came home I watched Hillary Clinton’s concession speech. It was beautiful and eloquent. It made me realize, I have been silent. I have not fought for what I believe in, I have not stood up and I am ashamed.
So as cool as “Reflections of a Sopping Wet Expat” sounds for a blog name, I am not leaving. What’s more, I won’t be silent anymore. I will fight for what I believe is right. When people tell me to sit down, shut up and don’t rock the boat, I’m gonna tip the fucking thing over. Because equality matters, women matter, immigrants and refugees matter, families and children matter and furthermore I matter. It’s going to be hard, it’s going to be awkward. Mostly because I have been silent for so long, letting others do the hard work. That’s not enough anymore.
The next four years could be a brutal, awful, hellish experience. But I’ll be shouting the whole way. It’s time for me to stand up and fight. So, that’s what I’ll do.