To You: 247 Years From Now

Not often do I find it difficult to write these pieces, but I am almost without words today. Though I believed Donald Trump would be our president-elect, I nonetheless remained neutrally indifferent to the potential outcome. As it stands, however, Donald Trump is the president-elect and will be the 47th president of the United States — even more shocking, it appears that he’s the first Republican president to win the popular vote since George W. Bush. It seems that Democrats suffered a defeat they failed to predict as the supposed “blue wall” crumbled under the overwhelming red wave that swept across Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania.

Though saddened by the results of this election, I’d like to take this space and a moment of your time to offer some hope — for hope can exist only in the absence of what we wish for. After all, dreams can only exist if reality reflects something other — by their coming into existence, our dreams cease to be dreams. And so we are never without hope. Indeed, hope is possibly the only real universal constant, inherent even in those moments that remind us how far we are from the “dream” and how close we’ve come to it. When in those moments, where our dreams seem especially far away, we still have a choice. We can either abandon hope outright or to move forward alongside it. I, for one, plan to pursue the latter.

For those of you who are dismayed by Donald Trump’s election or by those who supported Kamala Harris, the question we must ask not just each other but ourselves is, not “how” but why? Why did we choose to support Kamala Harris, a third-party candidate, or Donald Trump, or not vote? In our support, what beliefs did we hold as that which we would not or could not do without? What are or were those values that we held above all others?

When these values clash in conversations, it is most important that we maintain humility and empathy in a time when it appears all are without none. We cannot; indeed, we must not descend into the vitriol and condescension that permeates our discourse. Even more so, we must endeavor to get past seemingly intractable differences with each other — to bridge the gap between our political beliefs and to have real faith in one another. To believe, naive as it may be, that differences in beliefs, values, and ideas are tantamount not to moral or ethical failings but to our individual understandings of subjective perspectives and experiences. We must revive the dying spirit of liberalism. By that I don’t mean any progressive movement, but rather a “liberal” ethic — one which demands that individuals may move in concert with one another if and only if we collectively accept each other’s premises — compromises included — and usher forth in a new world together. To discover truth only by abandoning one’s belief in one’s own “truth.” Our beloved democracy, my beloved democracy, lives and dies by this belief.

The task is enormous, if not impossible, but it is our only path forward. We must make ourselves known and continue to talk even to the point in which we find ourselves mad, for truth may only appear in the realm of action. A good person is made good not by who they are but by what they’ve done. The qualities of one’s action must be judged by society, but one’s character must be understood by one’s intention, and if one seeks to do good, then I remain convinced that collectively we may come to agree on what is good. We need not abandon what we believe is right, but let us live and exist as though it is. When faced with confrontation, ask not “why not,” but “why?” In light of the devastating election result for many, this sentiment is now more necessary than ever. When those of you wonder why Donald Trump won, you must understand people as more than his bigotry and rhetoric. People, more often than not, exist as complex individuals whose lives should be understood only in all their intricacies and whose primary motivation should not be subsumed to the worst of their character, but rather, the best.

I make this plea and promise on behalf of a young boy who sought and dreamed of a world where we might all be friends — where the differences between us lie only in our ability to understand one another. More importantly, however, I swear this oath for the young boy who has yet to come into existence — to define themselves by that which comes after. Democracy persists only so long as we believe it should, as though each citizen is the beating heart of democracy — and I, for one, still feel my heart beating, the heart of an American citizen — of a kid, teen, and now young adult who chooses to persist in the face of all that stands before them, and I ask, hubristic as it may be, for you all to do the same. To continue to create spaces for dialogue, to approach one another inquisitively, to remain skeptical in the face of certainty, and hopeful in the humanity of one another. Perhaps then we may avoid whatever crises lie ahead.