I Am From India And America’s Election Results Terrify Me

Flickr / Gage Skidmore
Flickr / Gage Skidmore

For the last couple of weeks, the internet was outdoing itself with jokes, memes, and puns about Trump, and I’m ashamed to say I was very much a part of the people who were making light of the situation at hand.

In my defense, I didn’t really believe that a first-world nation full of educated, emotionally aware, and seemingly progressive citizens would truly vote for someone who is easily the one of the most disgusting bullies ever. So when I woke up, and the television was on, I didn’t think too much about it. When I saw that Trump had won Texas, I still didn’t think about it. When he won Florida, I began to get jittery, but as a person of words and not numbers, I continued not to worry.

But numbers don’t lie. And Trump won. When I heard the news, the very first feeling that coursed through my body, wasn’t that of anger or disgust. It was disbelief. Utter and complete shock at the failure of the collective consciousness of one of the biggest superpowers in the world.

I went about my day the same as usual for nearly an hour after that. And then suddenly, the panic set in, imperceptibly blended with outrage. Outrage that was fueled by the questions that were thrown my way – “Why do you care? You’re not an American! Why should it upset you?”

You see, the reason why I didn’t instantly spiral into a panic attack, the reason why I didn’t break out in cold sweat and throw up a little was because I didn’t think it really would come to this. I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for the world, or justify my rage. But since you’re asking, here it is.

The man who is the face of America puts down all the minorities repeatedly and with obvious pleasure. Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

The man who is the face of America calls Mexicans rapists, calls global warming a hoax that is ‘bullshit’, and wants to ‘eradicate’ homosexuality. Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

The man who wants to make America great again is the man who said “grab ’em by the pussy.” Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

This is the man who takes pride in his bigotry, kicks his own supporters out only because they are Muslims, and is opposed to abortion, not even hesitant to declare it’s the women who must he punished in every single case. Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

The President of the US of A is a terrorist – and he doesn’t need weapons to destroy the course of history, his hate tactics and fanaticism is enough to shatter the fragile armour of security that we wear. But hey, just incase his abuse fails to scare you, he has a stockpile of nuclear weapons at his disposal as back up anyway. Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

The man who is the face of America, is the face of organised racism, sexism, misogyny, classism, Islamophobio and homophobia.Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

And as if it it weren’t enough, this man of immense authority and zero political education, is a molester, abuser, and child rapist, who has scores of cases against him and yet doesn’t even feel a tinge of guilt when a video of him laughing and sharing his experience of sexually abusing a woman made the rounds on the internet. Tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

I am a woman. Correction, I am a woman of color, and survivor of molestation who doesn’t know a single other female-identifying human who hasn’t faced abuse, whether physical, verbal, or emotional, up to some degree at the very least.

And I’m not just angry, I’m terrified.
So tell me I shouldn’t be upset.

I was 9 years when I read George Orwell’s Animal Farm, and there were two things that struck me as very odd even then – the first was how easily the animals accepted that the minorities don’t deserve equal rights, and the second, that hatred comes naturally to us.

That is what is happening to the US right now.

Hatred, cruelty and abuse have become so much a part of our lives that we don’t even flinch when we read and see what is happening. I feel sick to the stomach when I think of my nonchalance yesterday, when I saw how ridiculously optimistic I was.

Naive, in my child-like belief that all my heroes were fighting for a cause that can potentially change the world, and that because I believed in them, the others would too. My blind faith in rightness and goodness pricks at my heart, like a minute speck of dust in my eye that won’t come out. It makes my head spin even as I realize, I’m not even an American.

As a culturally sensitive brown girl living in a country that is hugely influenced by the west, where the American Dream still fuels people’s fire, where children can name more American Presidents than their own — tell me I shouldn’t be upset and I’ll tell you how to spot a jerk in seconds.

Thank you for killing my faith in humanity, for making me tremble when I think of the people who will fall asleep every night in the knowledge that their President is a rapist, for destroying the illusion I’d begun to believe would someday be a reality. Thank you, and fuck you, Donald Trump. Thought Catalog Logo Mark


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