The first of a two-part blog post from intern, Samiksha Manjani, on processing the new political climate among friends with differing beliefs.

When President Donald Trump was elected President of the “Free World,” my heart sank and I felt hopeless. I was in so much shock; I was truthfully in denial. I remember going to class the next day and feeling so gloomy. My helplessness and somberness was reflected in my peers around me. I remember clearly that it had been raining that day, and it had never been more appropriate. It had felt like the world was going to absolute shit.

I think many people can agree that Trump’s campaign was built on homophobic, racist, sexist, and xenophobic rhetoric. As an immigrant woman of color, I took all of it personally.

During the campaign season, I never thought he could actually win. I didn’t believe that people from the “Land of the Free” would ever vote for Trump. I just assumed that supporters of Trump were an extreme minority of the population.

Boy, was I wrong.

My shock and denial eventually turned into anger. I began to harbor intense resentment towards the people that voted for him. I immediately labeled them all as homophobic, racist, sexist, and xenophobic. I started seeing them as enemies. It worsened when I found out that people who were close to me had voted for him. A few members of my extended family had voted for him, and the betrayal cut deep.

I remember in the months before the election, one of my suitemates had admitted that she (and her friend who was visiting) would probably vote for Trump. This admission was worse than if they had hit me. I couldn’t contain my disgust. I vehemently asked, “how can you support someone that is a racist?” Flustered, she responded, “He is the Republican candidate, and it’s better to have a Republican candidate in office than a Democrat.” Her friend agreed with this thought process as well.

I was incredulous. How was this a valid explanation in any way? If the situation had been reversed and Trump was a Democrat, I would have gladly voted for a Republican. My suitemates tried to calm me, and eventually told me later that I had overreacted. I didn’t know how to feel; why was I “overreacting” for believing that I was equal and deserved basic rights? How could I be “overreacting” for wanting respect and not to be marginalized? How could I be “overreacting” for not wanting my entire personhood reduced to one identity: brown, immigrant, or woman.

In the days after, I couldn’t contain my rage. I unfriended just about every person I knew that voted for Trump. I was so disgusted with humanity, and more than that, I was repulsed by America. I could hardly understand why my family had left our home country to come to the U.S. anymore.

One day, I got into a really heated discussion with one of my politically moderate friends. He was trying to explain why some people might have voted for Trump, but I just couldn’t hear it. I immediately shut him down and just said, “No, there’s no excuse. These people are the worst.” I remember him clearly saying, “how are you any different than those people if you’re reducing them to only one thing?”

I stopped myself in my tracks. Truthfully, it was like being hit by a truck to say the least. We ended up saying goodbye, but what he said had stuck with me.

I realized he was right.

(Sort of)