It’s 1:15 AM here in Madrid and I can’t sleep. A lot has
happened since the last time I sat down in front of a blank screen and tried to
record my thoughts, travels, and life here. In fact, I promised myself I would
record each of my trips and (as you can tell) I’m a little behind. Like over a
month behind if I’m being honest. But I will catch up on that later, explain
that later, now I need to process the last several days.
I have intentionally said little to nothing publically about
the presidential race. I don’t like drama, I don’t like Facebook fights, and I
would like to avoid alienating the people who disagree with me. In general, I
hate conflict. I didn’t follow politics closely before this year and still am
trying to understand many of the complicated economic issues—I am not an
expert. But I am human. And I know where I stand when it comes to human rights.
Which is why I couldn’t vote for our current
president-elect.
And it is why I felt like I had been repeatedly kicked in
the gut when I heard the news he had been elected.
I sat in front of a silent TV in my living room early that
morning watching the coverage, trying not to wake my sleeping roommates. Every
part of me hoped that I was mistranslating the Spanish words in front of me,
while the tears streamed down my face.
Let me explain my feelings: I was not being a sore loser. I
was not crying because I was sad I was unable celebrate the election of the
first female present of the United States of America. I was not upset because I
felt like I had lost.
I was afraid. I was hurt. I was sad. I felt betrayed.
It was no longer about politics for me. It was about what
Donald Trump has come to represent.
This is not a man who represents the America I know and
believe in.
I have no desire to debate policy. At the core Americans all
have the same goal—to make our country a “great” place to live. We have been
divided by party lines and the overwhelming practicalities of how to do that.
Our definitions of “great” differ. Instead, I want you to see what this looks
like on the other side of the world.
I didn’t have to go to school that day—Madrid had a city
holiday—and I was grateful. I wasn’t ready to face my students while dealing
with such raw emotions. I am one of four Americans in the school; my job is to
teach them about both my language and culture. In a way I am the “face” of
America to them and today I had try to explain to them what we did. I had to
try to explain why a man who the rest of the world sees as a sexist,
homophobic, Islamophobic bigot became the leader of the free world. This is
what they see—hate, fear, discrimination. And for the first time in my life, I
was ashamed of my identity as an America.
I tried to emphasize to the young, confused faces in front
of me that American elections are complicated. I tried to explain the Electoral
College and how despite that fact that Hillary is poised to win the popular
vote, Trump will still be president. I tried to tell them that people choose to
vote based on a variety of issues—not just the ones that they hear about on the
news. I tried to explain that our government has checks and balances that it will
(hopefully) prevent anything too drastic from happening. I tried to teach them
about things like power and privilege. I still don’t know how much of it they
understood. I still don’t know how much of it I understand either.
What I do understand is that my gut-wrenching feeling of
shame came from a misalignment of the values I believe Americans hold true and
those displayed by our present-elect and his running partner. When Donald Trump
makes crude jokes that objectify women; when he talks of building a wall to
keep out immigrants because they are rapists; when he says horrible things
about Muslims, African Americans, LGBTQ people, or any other minority; he
perpetuates inequality and hate. And when we elected him we validated
everything he said. By electing Trump and Pence we told the world that saying
these things, believing these things, is ok.
And it’s not.
But despite my own emotional reaction to the election, it is
time to move forward. Trump won and America, and the world, will deal with the
consequences. I have grieved for what I saw as a blow to American ideals, and
now it is time to fight for them again. But I choose to do so from a place of
love, not hate.
I will not hate you if you voted from Trump.
I will not hate you if you voted for Hillary or any other
political candidate.
I will not hate you based on your political opinions, religious
beliefs, sexual or gender identity, your immigration status, or the color of
your skin.
I might hate you if you don’t like Harry Potter or
chocolate. But I have my faults.
I chose to teach because I wanted to help people. I wanted
to change the world. I still do, and wherever I am in that world—Spain,
America, or some other country entirely—I want my students to know they are inherently
valuable people with the power to make the world a better place. I want them to
learn acceptance, tolerance, and most of all, to think for themselves.
I think this election will make life harder for so many groups of people. I want to be wrong—desperately so. So please world, prove me wrong.
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