In synchrony and solidarity with millions worldwide, I have spent the last few days attempting to process the riotous return of Donald Trump. I watched in disbelief as the first ever criminally convicted president was elected ahead of Kamala Harris, a woman who had spent the last 109 days (if not her whole life) fighting for the preservation of democracy and basic human rights.
The result of Tuesday’s election shocked the world. I have cried more times than I am willing to admit wondering what this means, not just for America, but for all those states and peoples whose livelihoods and futures sway to Washington’s tune. However many times I told myself Trump was bound to win, there remained a germ of hope, a yearning for an America not quite as biliously, indifferently hateful as it has turned out to be.
But alas, it was not to be.
It is a strange thing to feel so devastated about an election thousands of miles away. But the truth is this is the most emotional response I have ever had to a political election and I am sure I am not alone in that.
Throughout this election, I have been heavily invested, particularly following Joe Biden’s resignation and Kamala Harris’s star-studded campaign. She carried so many potentially historical moments with her. The first female, black and asian president in America’s history. But she represented so much more than that. She personified democracy, freedom, choice and hope, not just for America, but to many who feel as though the world is becoming an increasingly fraught and dangerous place, particularly for women.
We carry the weight of dozens of generations of women who fought for our right to vote, to be independent and to just simply have a voice. To feel as though we have the right to be in the same rooms as men, have control over our boundaries and bodies and the freedom to make decisions about our own lives. The long march to equality was far from over, but Tuesday felt like a million steps back.
What was lost on Wednesday morning, signified in the deep and primarily emotional reactions the world over, was hope. At the fons et origo of this global grief is not the loss of what could have been, but the fear of what is to come.
Fear for the millions of women in America who have or are going to have their reproductive rights, choices and freedoms taken away. Fear for the thousands of women who are going to be denied vital medical treatment because doctors are too afraid to treat them. Fear for the women who are going to feel so desperate, that they risk their lives having back alley treatments because they feel as though they have no other choice. Many of them will indeed have no alternatives.
Fear for the husbands, wives, children, mothers, fathers, nieces, uncles, brothers and everyone who is going to lose loved ones because they cannot get access to the treatment they need.
Fear for women living in a country in which men have essentially been granted permission to exert control over women and their bodies, with the leader of the country setting the example that there are no consequences to your actions, no matter how many women you hurt.
This rot will not sit politely at the border, content to condemn only American women towards a Trumpian Gilead. All women, no matter where they live, are in danger.
The words “your body, my choice” have sprung up across the internet following the election result.
I watched Kamala Harris’s speech the day after the election. Her strength in delivering a speech of such light in the darkest days for her and her gender is a testament to the person, woman, and leader she is.
Despite all the hate, the abuse, the threats and everything else that she came up against throughout her campaign, she continues to uphold and maintain the fundamentals of not only the US constitution, but of democracy, a foundational conviction for an America that wants to lead.
Amidst all the tears I shared with her audience that day, something she said really resonated with me.
It was a message of hope. A message to all of the people across the world feeling defeated and lost. A message of comfort to all of those feeling afraid and desperately unsure of what the future might hold.
In those words, she sounded the horn for the world to come together and continue to fight for the kind of world we want future generations to grow up in. One of acceptance, freedom, choice, opportunity and safety.
It may be hard to feel that kind of hope and fight in your heart right now. But to all of those like me, wherever you are in the world, wondering what happens now, remember, it has always been a long march to freedom.
Image: Wikimedia Commons/Senate Democrats
No image changes made.
Comments