Up until now I haven’t written much on the election results here because there’s honestly not much more to be said. I wish I could say that I’m surprised Donald Trump won the electoral college votes necessary to be named President of our great nation, but I’m not. My family and friends will confirm that I always had doubts that America would do the right thing.
I wish I could be shocked that America voted for this man.
I wish I had the hope and belief that America would never stand for him to be President.
I wish I was so assured in the days leading up to this election that good would triumph over evil and the American people would make the right choice.
If I’d had that, if I’d been raised to have such hopeful ideals, I might relish the days of those beliefs.
But I never thought that.
I never believed.
I never had such faith in this country.
Sadly, and not for the first or last time, I was right.
I could not be surprised that this country would elect a man who represented and refused to denounce racism, homophobia, bigotry, and hatred.
How could I be?
How could I be surprised by that when I had a background and upbringing that saw me called ‘sissy’ and ‘faggot’ and ridiculed and attacked me for being gay and different? I still get called those names on social media on a regular basis – now more than ever. And I’m supposed to be surprised when our country elects a man who panders to the people who use those words? I’ve got a long litany of things I’ve seen online over the last few months – all from Trump supporters – things that denigrate and insult and threaten minorities and women and the LGBT+ community.
Why would I be surprised that this army of deplorable hate-filled people would vote in such a detestable person? And why would I believe polls that put him behind? Who would admit to such a thing before being given the sanction of an electoral college victory? I never bought into that.
When you’re locked in a grade school bathroom because some bully thinks you’re Chinese, you don’t believe that people are inherently good.
When you get rocks thrown at you and a group of kids calling you faggot as you’re walking home at night, you don’t have faith that people will vote for equality and acceptance.
When you get death threats on Twitter because you dare raise a voice against Donald Trump, you don’t trust that this country will make the right decision.
The sad thing is that I’m not more upset by this election – because I should be. If I was raised in a world that was right, I would be.
But I wasn’t.
And we aren’t.
That doesn’t mean I won’t keep fighting.
It does, however, go some way towards explaining why I will never judge anyone who doesn’t accept Donald Trump as our President. He doesn’t deserve it.
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