In the Wake of Tragedy

 Sometimes life throws you a curveball.

Sometimes, the world decides to throw a great big shit in your face.

Obscene? Perhaps. Accurate? Definitely. This past week, the entire world had a massive, spray tan drenched, toupee-wearing shit thrown in its face.

Honestly, it’s taken me this long to actually process the reality of Trump’s victory, and even now I find myself questioning reality. A President Trump is a gut punch to the world. It’s an insult to human dignity. It is, simply put, a travesty.

A vote for Trump was not a vote for any kind of coherent policy. It was not a vote for positive change. It was a vote born of frustration, made by the short sighted, the ignorant, and the downright selfish.

Trump’s election is a tragedy for humanity.

Not all of his supporters are racists, sexists, or homophobes. But most racists, sexists, and homophobes are his supporters.

Those that are not themselves bigots condone, by their actions last Tuesday, every kind of bigotry Trump has promoted. By supporting him, many reasonable and moderate (primarily white) Americans have simply accepted the promotion of so many prejudices that western society has worked to limit over the past century.

Previous presidents have made mistakes. Many have been elected on platforms I wholeheartedly disagree with. Yet I cannot think of an instance in recent history where society has so blatantly, not to mention willingly, taken a step backwards.

It is a tragedy of epic proportions.

As in the wake of all tragedies, it will take time for us to adjust. The initial period is about surviving. This is when the heavy drinking happens, as one denies reality. For me, this past week has been about weathering the shock, as denial slowly moves into acceptance.

For many, this period of shock will last longer than a week. For some, unfortunately, it will be shortly forgotten as their lives move on. For many who are unaffected by this tragedy (and many simply too ignorant of how it will affect them), the period of mourning is simply nonexistent.

I no longer feel shock, or denial. I have moved onto the next stage of dealing with tragedy.

I am angry.

I don’t have many words of optimism. I don’t feel very optimistic myself. I’m sure the anger will fade, but I know that the passion that drives it will not subside into dull acceptance.

This tragedy was unnecessary. Donald Trump was not something that had to happen to the world. His election is an injustice.

We may not be able to change this injustice. But we can survive it. We can make it through to the other side, and we can try to make the world a better place for it.

There is my obligatory attempt at some kind of philosophical “the night is always darkest before the day” bullshit.

The only way things are going to change is if we change them.

I am angry, and I have little patience for people telling me to “accept the result.” One can accept something is going to happen without being happy about it. One can accept reality while acknowledging the absurdity of that reality. One can challenge the bigots of the world while knowing they are trying to extinguish a house fire with a water gun.

Those that tell us to simply “accept” the result are those that condone the injustices Trump stands for. These people are the problem.

To everyone who is affected by this both directly and indirectly, to everyone who hurts for the world and for their fellow human beings, to everyone who feels as heartbroken as I do: try not to give up. As hard is it may be, don’t stoop to their level. Don’t let their apathy overcome you. No matter how many times people roll their eyes at you, ignore you, label you, or disdain for your “political talk,” keep on fighting for what you know is right.

Some people have no choice about the battles they fight; it is up to us who have the luxury of choosing to stand up for those who are not so lucky.

It’s the only way we can even come close to stopping the Trumps of the world.