I Will Never Stop Believing That the Fight for What Is Right Is Worth It

Photo: Tim Bogdanov (Unsplash)

“Never stop believing that fighting for what is right is worth it.”

These were the powerful words from Hillary Clinton’s poised and graceful concession speech that deeply resonated with me this morning. But so many things happened in the 36 hours before.

Yesterday morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn to get on a bus to exercise my right to vote in a swing state where I am still registered. I thought that was all I needed to do but now I think to myself what else could I have done to change this outcome? My one vote wasn’t enough.

Yesterday afternoon, I wrote an essay about why I was (and still am) with her. Now I re-read my words with resentment, bitterness and anger. My niece’s president is that man who mocks the disabled and builds walls and threatens to grab pussy. Not a woman.

Last night, I sat with my friends again in that Williamsburg apartment watching the results come in. Gummy bears in one hand and a pounder of coke in the other, I began to realize that the unthinkable was our reality.

In the wee hours of morning, I sat in one of my favorite gay bars surrounded by shocked and sullen faces all around me. Everyone drowning their sorrows with more beer and more whiskey. There were some tears and many stumbles.

Early this morning, I woke up to a phone call of my sister crying and texts from my friends trying to find reasoning in what has happened. My friend Brian, a straight, white, cisgender man texted me the most uplifting text of the morning: “For those of us that haven't always had the most clear picture for what we stand for and what we are up against, it has now been put on the table. I never felt that I was repressed by society or actively repressing any specific group, but I've learned a lot this past year and feel much more of a duty to step up when the opportunity calls for it.” Not all is lost.

This morning, I took to Facebook Live to share my feelings, because the written words were escaping me. I ended up ugly crying for all to see, the first time I actually shed a tear.

This afternoon, I watched a 20-something straight, white male mock an older black man for still wearing his Hillary pin. I confronted him saying, “You sat next to the wrong bitch today.” He laughed at me too.

Right now, I feel hopeless. I feel angry. I feel sad. But those feelings are giving birth to something new. Something inside of me is being awakened today.

This anger with in me has unleashed a new consciousness. A new motivation. A new purpose. A new nasty woman. Brian was right. What we stand for is on the table. In a weird way, I have never felt more at that table until this day. I have always used my voice, but tomorrow that voice amplifies. Tomorrow, I will use my voice louder. 

I will articulate that Black Lives Matter.

I will stand with woman and their right to choose.

I will remind my Muslim allies they are loved.

I will persevere to keep my right to marriage.

I will defend our trans brothers and sisters and their right to use whatever bathroom they want to.

I will support the Latinx community staying in our country.

I will never stop believing that the fight for what is right is worth it.

Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.