Fuck. Trump won.
I was so convinced that Hillary would win. The polls said so. She didn’t show any obvious weakness during the debates. Early voting looked good. Also, I figured normal white people wouldn’t vote for Trump because of all his racist, sexist, etc. statements. I hoped they would find that disqualifying.
I was wrong and that hurt.
It wasn’t my pride that was hurt. It was my faith that was hurt. My faith in, well, humanity. People are way less empathetic than I thought and, ultimately, they looked at what Trump said then looked at me and said “I don’t care”. That hurt.
They didn’t do that to just me. They did that to everyone who Trump vilified.
While I have been questioning who I am, what I’m doing, etc., this added another layer to my internal debate. Who the hell is everybody else? Is this who they are?
When I go on my summer road trips, there’s always someone I have a decent conversation with. Whether it is at a gas station, diner, park, or whatever, it is about something we have in common, i.e. Camaro, Manchester United, football. It’s those moments when I feel connected to the white people who live in the middle of the country. It connects me with these people who I most likely have very little in common. I hope I’m helping build trust with them. I hope I’m giving them a positive view of a brown person.
But this Trump win. How am I supposed to look at these people next time I’m at the road?
They don’t care about me.
I guess the election helped me realized that I had become too optimistic about people and it pushed me more firmly into the, people are selfish, point of view.
These people voted for Trump not because he was great or good, but because he offered to put them first, at the expense of everyone else, and they took it.