This Is Not My America
By Kimberly Zapata
This morning my daughter and I went to Dunkin’ Donuts. We shared snacks and conversation as I sipped my coffee. As I stared out the window and into the gray, rainy streets. And while I managed to smile for her and laugh for her, it was all a front because inside I feel gutted and empty. I am scared, angry, discouraged, hollow and numb, and I feel like I have been living a lie.
I don’t know my family, my neighbors, and my friends anymore.
Of course, that may not be fair to say. In fact, MOST of the people in my privileged life support women’s rights and the LGBT community. They believe Black Lives Matter and that religion doesn’t make bad people: people make bad people. And they believe we should be breaking down barriers and walls, not erecting them. Not building them from the ground up. But it is hard to feel hopeful today.
It is hard to feel optimistic when the table beside you — a table full of white men — is smiling and joking about Trump’s win. It is hard to believe in humanity when, after my teary eyed gaze met one of theirs, they laughed.
They slapped one another on the shoulder , spoke louder, and laughed.
This is NOT the America I thought I lived in. This is not the America I loved and had faith in, and I genuinely do not know where we go from here. I do not know what to say or do.
Not now.
Not today.
That said, I know we cannot go back. We cannot change time, and since we have to move forward (one way or another) I will move forward swinging. I will keep fighting. For myself. For my friends. For my family. For my daughter, my 3-year-old baby girl. I will continue advocating for what is right. For what I believe in. And I will not forget the love I saw this election season. Yes, it was a cycle full of negativity and hate, fear mongering and discrimination, but it was also one full of camaraderie and acceptance.
It was one where men and women — of all races and all religions — came together.
(I cannot tell you how many messages I have received this morning saying “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here if you want to talk. Or cry.” And lord how I have cried.)
But let this be a wake up call: a horrifying and disheartening wake up call, but a wake up call nonetheless. We need to do more. We need to fight harder, and we need to learn to love one another.
The bigotry and intolerance NEEDS to stop.
So mourn today. Mourn tomorrow. Take as long as you need. But when the sadness passes — when the dust settles and we come out of our collective shock — do not forget the words we heard this election cycle. Do not forget what we fought for this election cycle, and use all of the anger, outrage, and utter disgust you feel today as a catalyst for change. Channel those emotions in order to keep fight and moving forward NOT for America’s sake (or some ill-gotten dream) but for humanity’s sake.
For your sake.
Because there are 59 million of us, and love can still win. If you believe in it. If you demand it. If you choose to fight for it.
