“Understand, democracy does not require uniformity. Our founders quarreled and compromised, and expected us to do the same. But they knew that democracy does require a basic sense of solidarity—the idea that for all our outward differences, we are all in this together; that we rise or fall as one.” Barack Obama, 2017 Farewell Address
Election Day 2016 and the days that followed, were some of the most challenging days I have faced as a volunteer. Without access to news or Internet, I was unable to see how the election results played out. I awoke on the 9th, eagerly waiting the arrival of the teachers at my school, whom I had asked to listen for results and report back to me since they all live in larger communities with access to internet. The first teacher arrived telling me Trump had won. Now remember, I had been living the past eight months of this election in a rural campo without as much access to the outside world. Deep down in my heart, I was adamant Hillary would win. I was a believer that our country was better than Trump’s misogynistic, bigotry rhetoric. With that said, I responded to the teacher with laughter, thinking he was just pulling my leg. Yet within minutes, other teachers began arriving and sharing the same news. Reality was settling in. And with it, a churning in my stomach, an aching in my heart, and a sense of panic as thoughts of the future began to invade my brain. I couldn’t focus. I needed to do something.
That afternoon, I hiked to my spot with cellphone service to call my mom, seeking verification of the results—as I wishfully thought maybe all the Dominican news sources got it wrong. But as I soon learned, they didn’t. It was during this phone call when I first learned about the Women’s March on Washington. I could sense the anger and fear in my mom’s voice, which is why I urged her to go.
The next time I had spoken with her, she had purchased her plane ticket, along with her coworker, Lori, and they would be in DC marching on the 21st of January. I was one proud daughter. She had insisted I accompany them, but I immediately thought it wasn’t a possibility. But then the wheels started churning, encouragement and support was flowing in from my fellow volunteers, and a cheap flight was found!
So why did I march?
To put it simply, solidarity. Once I had received the election results, my thoughts stretched to those I love most in my life. My Somali-American friend who came to the United States nearly 20 years ago as a refugee, and the Islamaphobic, anti-refugee views our president elect holds. I thought of my friends in the LGBTQI community who had made such progress under the Obama administration. I thought of the Latino students I had worked with who were direct benefit of DACA and the Dream Act, and our president elect’s strong stance on building a wall. I thought of the friends I’ve accompanied to Planned Parenthood as they benefited from the many services offered, and Trump’s words to cut funding for such organizations.
Action was, and continues to be, obligatory.
Gloria Steinam said it best during her speech on January 21st, “Sometimes we must put our bodies where our beliefs are. Sometimes pressing send is not enough. And this also unifies us with the many in this world who do not have computers or electricity or literacy, but do have the same hopes and the same dreams.”
After spending Inauguration day in downtown DC, I was plagued with fear. Despite the small turnout, there was still a tension in the air. A tension between protesters and supporters of our new president—vocalized and physical abhorrence was abundant. Coming from a small campo in the DR now to the heart of political tensity in my own country was the biggest sense culture shock I’ve felt. I came home that evening having lost a sense of hope I had once had for national harmony.
Yet the following day restored that hope. The unison of humanity marching that day, not only in DC, but across the globe, was ever so inspiring. While marching alongside my mom and her friend Lori, we were able to hear some incredible speakers such as America Ferrera, Gloria Steinam, Janet Mock, and Michael Moore. The march itself was electric. I was charged with emotion standing amongst nearly a million other men and women sticking up for sisterhood.
I’ve heard many times “if the fight ends today, this march was just a parade.” So what now?
Obama stated it well in his farewell address, “Ultimately, that’s what our democracy demands. It needs you. Not just when there’s an election, not just when your own narrow interest is at stake, but over the full span of a lifetime. If you’re tired of arguing with strangers on the internet, try to talk with one in real life. If something needs fixing, lace up your shoes and do some organizing. If you’re disappointed by your elected officials, grab a clipboard, get some signatures, and run for office yourself. Show up. Dive in. Persevere.”
Democracy does need us. We mustn’t sit back and watch the rights of our neighbors be jeopardized. It’s time for a new leadership in our country, one in which promotes love and holds respect for all of humanity.
The content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Dominican Republic Government
The Happy Wanderer 