Hillary Clinton: I'm still with her


I am deeply shaken up. I am in shock. I am crying hysterically. Up until the very last minute I did not believe this would happen. I didn’t. I thought someone would show up and present some box, some carton, or a bag with votes, that someone forgot. It can’t be.

Not this man. Not this inhumane joke of a decent human being. It had to be her, right?

I am grieving. I am mourning. I am also surprised by my own inability to cope other than to cry. Hysterically. I do not want to look at funny memes and cat content. Funny memes and cat content is what brought us here. I am surprised I am feeling real emotions. I did not know this could take over me. I am not blasé, I might be jaded, but I thought I was fighting the good fight. The one we read about decades later when rebels become heroes and we stop in awe about the atrocities humans committed against each other.

But in the meantime, what do we do while our own people think they need a person like him?

We need to stop watching Late Night Shows and Netflix ( I love y’all, don’t you worry) and get out of this bubble. The bubble is real. The bubble we created with blocking, friend lists, preferred settings and choosing to live where we do. Not saying we should all move back to Alabama or Bavaria, but it might help to recognize our own bubble.

I have read a ton of articles. Books. I hold a double major degree in American Studies and Political Science. And a Master's Degree from one of the best universities in this world. I am happy to have discussions with right-winged conservatives. That does not evoke any kind of frustration with me. I can even have rational conversations with religious people. No problem. I’ve lived in the South. I love the South. I love America, truly.

That is why I am very literally heartbroken. My heart is broken because I did not see it coming. But I should have. Shit, maybe I really have lived a life so privileged that I did not know what true heartbreak felt like. This is real and it fucking hurts. It hurts my body. It makes me sick.

Is this how white supremacists felt like in 2008? Were they heartbroken?

What killed me, what is killing me, is the language. His language. His words. Past and present. It is inhumane. It is mean. It is bullying. It is everything I am teaching my child not to be like. I am neither my looks nor my heritage, and I know that, I really do. But he and the (white) men and women voting for him make me feel like there are still a lot of people out there who are convinced women should be put in their place.

This is not about politics, that is not why people are in shock. It is about human rights. Equality. All that good stuff us liberals hold onto so dearly, you know. We just want everyone to be okay. To get an education. To be healthy. To not get raped. To be free.

He did not give me the impression that he cares about any of that.

I am almost all cried out. I will heavily drink, listen to some Beyoncé, watch some Broad City and then I will wake up and continue this fight against bigotry, discrimination, sexism, racism, and mean bullies. And I know that's right. As fucked up as this sounds, it's inspiring, it's very Phoenix-Ash-Rising-Lemonady.

Autor: Elina Penner

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