Americans mourn the loss of what a Kamala Harris presidency could’ve been. Photo courtesy of USA Today.
EMMA MCLEAN | CULTURE CO-EDITOR | emclean@butler.edu
Former President Donald Trump, a man convicted of 34 felonies and publicly accused of sexual abuse by 27 women, will be the 47th President of the United States. For many of us who have been targets of his dehumanizing rhetoric — people of color, women, queer folk, victims of sexual assault, the poor and working class, immigrants, veterans, the disabled and so many more — this news is a direct and familiar punch to the gut.
In the wake of Trump’s re-election, a pervasive anxiety hangs in the air. The anxiety stems from the future of reproductive health, the existence of a safe and thoughtful education system, the promise of healthy immigration policies and the escalating presence of misogynistic, racist and broadly hateful speech that has become increasingly vocal among his supporters.
Junior health sciences major Ella Hutchins was deeply disheartened by the election results and the implications they hold for our country.
“I felt immediately afraid, like, ‘What am I supposed to do now?’” Hutchins said. “For a moment, it’s like ‘Wow. Nothing’s in my control and I should be fearful for the future’ … [I am most fearful] for reproductive rights, and not just abortion, but even access to contraception. And just that people will be more hateful in general, specifically to minority groups and women.”
Reactions to the election results on Butler’s campus, like at many other colleges, vary widely — ranging from celebration to devastation and a noticeable sense of indifference. This detachment, while less overt, can be just as damaging as more explicit expressions of hate. And, let’s be clear: indifference is not synonymous with neutrality.
Junior psychology major Audrey Ecelbarger watched the apathy and indifference with an immense anger.
“When I would see people around campus or see people’s [Instagram] stories, and they weren’t talking about the election, that would almost make me more mad,” Ecelbarger said. “It’s like ‘Oh, wow, you just don’t even care’ … This isn’t a big deal for you but my entire world is collapsing right now.”
Ecelbarger is far from alone in feeling this sense of dread and existentialism. The fear is real — it’s terrifying to consider what this means for future generations, for yourself, for the people you love and for those you will never meet. It’s unsettling and infuriating to realize that people around you, even those you know and care about, willingly voted in ways that are a direct assault on your rights — and, unless they’re in the top one percent, against their own as well.
Yet, as with every dark and divisive moment in history, human connection remains a potent source of hope.
Amid immense indignation and sadness, Ecelbarger found footing in the bonds she shares with others.
“I showed up to one of my classes and one of my friends just turned to me,” Ecelbarger said. “It was obvious we had both been crying a lot. We just looked at each other in recognition. It was nice to know I’m not alone.”
After leaving The Collegian office on election night, my co-editor Jack Williams gave me his umbrella and I walked home through the relentless downpour. Alone in my room, with the door closed and the world distant, the panic and devastation set in. I called my mom, waking her in the dead of night, and when she answered, I couldn’t speak. Even in silence, she knew. We spoke until I was too exhausted to speak or cry any longer — it transcended the distance and the darkness.
Despite the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that can accompany such a divisive political climate, there is also resilience, there is also love. There’s strength in standing beside those who prioritize compassion over fear, who reject bigotry and false hope in favor of unity and justice.
While the political landscape is quite bleak, there were important victories in the fight for abortion rights. Voters in Arizona and Missouri approved measures to protect abortion access until fetal viability, overturning restrictive laws. In Maryland, Montana, Nevada, New York and Colorado — where abortion rights were already safeguarded — voters enshrined those protections into law.
Several states are “Trump-proofing” to counter the president-elect’s hostile policies. In California, Governor Gavin Newsom called a special legislative session to secure funding for the attorney general’s office and other state agencies. This includes setting aside funds for natural disasters like wildfires and earthquakes in case the Trump administration withholds federal aid, as it did during his last term.
Senior biology major Aidan Trachtman felt the upsetting weight of the election, especially concerned for those close to him who would be more directly impacted.
“It was very disappointing to me on a personal level, but I think more than that, I felt very worried for a lot of my friends, who will be a lot more impacted by this than me,” Trachtman said. “I recognize that at the end of the day, it might not mean that much to me, but it’s going to mean a whole lot more to my sister, my mother, my girlfriend and all of these people it’s going to affect.”
I grieve for myself and the uncertain future ahead, but more profoundly, I grieve for those whose lives are directly at risk under a Trump presidency. He may claim to be divinely chosen to save America, but many of us see this for what it truly is: the beginning of a dangerously selfish and reckless four years — again.
As for the question, “What do we do now?” I can only speak for myself, but I say this: take care of those around you. Take care of yourself because no one is coming to save us. Grieve it, feel it and then fight.
“There is always hope,” Trachtman said. “I am very lucky to be surrounded by a lot of really good people that I know will fight with me, for me and by my side. I truly, truly believe that there are good people that exist and those people will never stop fighting the good cause.”
In the face of fear and uncertainty, we find strength in each other. The next four years will be dangerous and not everyone will come out unscathed. Hold tight to your compassion, acknowledge your anger and, above all, remember that the fight is not over.
