Regular readers of this blog are probably aware of my political beliefs. As an Indian woman who grew up in Bahrain and Canada, has been living in New York for the past fifteen years, and got her Bachelor's degree from Wellesley College, I am an unapologetically liberal feminist who was 100% in the tank for Hillary Clinton.
I only became an American citizen two years ago and yesterday was my first ever chance to vote in a Presidential Election. I went down to my polling station at 7 am, proudly filled in the bubble next to Hillary Clinton's name, scanned my ballot, and smiled when the machine told me my vote had been counted. I was working from home, so I stuck my "I voted" sticker on my bedroom door, and spent the rest of my day working. Then at 7 pm, I turned on the TV and watched the election results come in. I stayed up till 1 am, until I couldn't bear it any longer. I slept fitfully and finally checked Twitter at 5 am to have it confirmed that Hillary had lost. I spent the rest of my morning writing and re-tweeting sad, funny, and angry messages, trying to process my emotions. Part of me felt betrayed - it was a slap in the face that half the country couldn't bring themselves to vote for a woman. Part of me felt horribly defeated - if a woman as accomplished as Hillary was deemed not good enough, what chance did an average woman like me have in the world? Part of me was furious, part of me was desperate, all of me felt unhinged. I went to work in a fog and spent a few hours in meetings, wondering how on earth the world could keep turning when everything felt so broken.
Then at 11:30 am, Hillary Clinton made her concession speech. I watched at my desk and was holding it together. She was gracious and magnanimous in defeat. She said all the right things, was patriotic and professional. And then she said:
"And to the young people in particular, I hope you will hear this. I have, as Tim said, spent my entire adult life fighting for what I believe in. I’ve had successes and I’ve had setbacks. Sometimes, really painful ones. Many of you are at the beginning of your professional public and political careers. You will have successes and setbacks, too.
This loss hurts, but please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it.
It is — it is worth it.
And so we need — we need you to keep up these fights now and for the rest of your lives.
And to all the women, and especially the young women, who put their faith in this campaign and in me, I want you to know that nothing has made me prouder than to be your champion.
Now, I — I know — I know we have still not shattered that highest and hardest glass ceiling, but some day someone will and hopefully sooner than we might think right now.
And — and to all the little girls who are watching this, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams."
That is when I finally cried. That is when I understood what I felt and why I felt it. I was grieving because this great woman, who was my champion, had been unable to shatter that glass ceiling. I was grieving because her dreams had become inextricably entwined with my dreams and this time, we could not make our dreams come true.
In the afternoon, friends started posting stories on Facebook and Twitter of relatives, friends, and strangers who were being harassed, spit on, and told to go back where they came from. It resembled the immediate aftermath of Brexit this summer in the UK, and despite the predictability, I am still disgusted by these human beings who cannot resist the urge to hurt and demean those who are different from themselves.
When I got home, I watched Obama's gracious speech and Stephen Colbert's stirring closing monologue from last night's election special. And I re-read Hillary's speech (I cannot re-watch it because it will make me cry again). And I realized, I should not hurt and demean those who are different from me. I am still grieving and I am still angry. But Hillary has asked me to move on and keep fighting. Obama does not want me to give in to cynicism. Colbert wants me to go hug a Republican. They are wise people who have had their fair share of successes and setbacks, and I cannot complain because my very first vote did not go according to plan. I still got to cast a vote for the first female US Presidential nominee. And I know that eventually I will get to say I voted for the first elected female US President.
I may have only become a citizen two years ago, but the one thing I have learned from this election is that America has become my home. I care deeply about its future and my place in it. So I will move on and fight twice as hard for the ideas and people that made me fall in love with America in the first place. Which brings me to this blog. Many of the things I write about here are the things I love about America. Yes, a lot of it is silly and frivolous, but a lot of it is deep and meaningful too. And when I recommend a movie, for example, I sometimes get a note from someone who watched it because of my review and it made them happy, or it made them think about the world in a different way. That is a small success, and it is one that I cherish. So I will continue to post reviews of the wonderful, strange, and terrible things I watch and read on a weekly basis, and I hope you will continue to read. And four years from now, I will vote for the second time in a Presidential Election, and I will let you know how it goes.
I only became an American citizen two years ago and yesterday was my first ever chance to vote in a Presidential Election. I went down to my polling station at 7 am, proudly filled in the bubble next to Hillary Clinton's name, scanned my ballot, and smiled when the machine told me my vote had been counted. I was working from home, so I stuck my "I voted" sticker on my bedroom door, and spent the rest of my day working. Then at 7 pm, I turned on the TV and watched the election results come in. I stayed up till 1 am, until I couldn't bear it any longer. I slept fitfully and finally checked Twitter at 5 am to have it confirmed that Hillary had lost. I spent the rest of my morning writing and re-tweeting sad, funny, and angry messages, trying to process my emotions. Part of me felt betrayed - it was a slap in the face that half the country couldn't bring themselves to vote for a woman. Part of me felt horribly defeated - if a woman as accomplished as Hillary was deemed not good enough, what chance did an average woman like me have in the world? Part of me was furious, part of me was desperate, all of me felt unhinged. I went to work in a fog and spent a few hours in meetings, wondering how on earth the world could keep turning when everything felt so broken.
Then at 11:30 am, Hillary Clinton made her concession speech. I watched at my desk and was holding it together. She was gracious and magnanimous in defeat. She said all the right things, was patriotic and professional. And then she said:
"And to the young people in particular, I hope you will hear this. I have, as Tim said, spent my entire adult life fighting for what I believe in. I’ve had successes and I’ve had setbacks. Sometimes, really painful ones. Many of you are at the beginning of your professional public and political careers. You will have successes and setbacks, too.
This loss hurts, but please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it.
It is — it is worth it.
And so we need — we need you to keep up these fights now and for the rest of your lives.
And to all the women, and especially the young women, who put their faith in this campaign and in me, I want you to know that nothing has made me prouder than to be your champion.
Now, I — I know — I know we have still not shattered that highest and hardest glass ceiling, but some day someone will and hopefully sooner than we might think right now.
And — and to all the little girls who are watching this, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams."
That is when I finally cried. That is when I understood what I felt and why I felt it. I was grieving because this great woman, who was my champion, had been unable to shatter that glass ceiling. I was grieving because her dreams had become inextricably entwined with my dreams and this time, we could not make our dreams come true.
In the afternoon, friends started posting stories on Facebook and Twitter of relatives, friends, and strangers who were being harassed, spit on, and told to go back where they came from. It resembled the immediate aftermath of Brexit this summer in the UK, and despite the predictability, I am still disgusted by these human beings who cannot resist the urge to hurt and demean those who are different from themselves.
When I got home, I watched Obama's gracious speech and Stephen Colbert's stirring closing monologue from last night's election special. And I re-read Hillary's speech (I cannot re-watch it because it will make me cry again). And I realized, I should not hurt and demean those who are different from me. I am still grieving and I am still angry. But Hillary has asked me to move on and keep fighting. Obama does not want me to give in to cynicism. Colbert wants me to go hug a Republican. They are wise people who have had their fair share of successes and setbacks, and I cannot complain because my very first vote did not go according to plan. I still got to cast a vote for the first female US Presidential nominee. And I know that eventually I will get to say I voted for the first elected female US President.
I may have only become a citizen two years ago, but the one thing I have learned from this election is that America has become my home. I care deeply about its future and my place in it. So I will move on and fight twice as hard for the ideas and people that made me fall in love with America in the first place. Which brings me to this blog. Many of the things I write about here are the things I love about America. Yes, a lot of it is silly and frivolous, but a lot of it is deep and meaningful too. And when I recommend a movie, for example, I sometimes get a note from someone who watched it because of my review and it made them happy, or it made them think about the world in a different way. That is a small success, and it is one that I cherish. So I will continue to post reviews of the wonderful, strange, and terrible things I watch and read on a weekly basis, and I hope you will continue to read. And four years from now, I will vote for the second time in a Presidential Election, and I will let you know how it goes.
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