Wednesday, November 6, 2024

It’s sunny in L.A today. It feels like it’s putting on a front for the weeping eyes of its people. 

By electing Donald Trump as the 47th President of the United States, we have let down ourselves, we’ve let down the women in our life, we’ve let down the people of color in our life, we’ve let down the generations that dedicated their lives to the progression of our country. 

On Election Day, I spent the day at the polling station just around the corner from my house. I was told to go take photos and talk to people that were there to vote. 

I met a poll worker named David. He used to be a photographer, but after COVID he gave it up and decided to retire. He’d been waiting to work at the polls for years. He told me he misses people, and he misses helping people.

I also met an older gentleman who’s name I didn’t get. He came out of the station with his “I VOTED” sticker, a floral sundress and a hat that read I’m Not Taylor Swift.

Everything seemed to be going well. The people were excited to vote, to flex their muscles of democracy. 

Then I met a man who turned up in a Trump shirt, and a Trump hat. I was immediately intrigued. He was possibly the only person in the line voting for Trump, and he wore his colors on his sleeve. I asked if I could take a portrait of him, and he begrudgingly agreed. 

I spent the next 20 minutes talking to him, asking him who he was, and why he stood for what he stood for. He told me he came to the United States as a successful young businessman from Tahiti, and came to chase the American dream. Clearly something between then and now had gone wrong. He then pulled out a piece of paper, a manifesto of sorts, written by him. The paper opened with “Government is Big-Fat and Dirties Filthiest Busisness control by two corrupted Political Parties government 225 Rhyno Republican…” It went on like this for a full page, just utter nonsense and conspiracies.

I didn’t think people like this existed in my life, but all it took was a couple hours standing around to reveal to me just how naive I was. 

This revelation scared me. If I was running into people in my home, a very liberal place; who knows what the rest of America looked like?

As a journalist, I know it’s my duty to write. It’s my duty to uplift the voices of the people around me, to speak without fear. But as a brother, a son, and a friend, I don’t know how to do that. 

The country is as divided as we’ve ever been. Instead of love, we’re united by fear. Gone are the days of disdain for all people in power. It’s now good versus evil. Voting isn’t about choosing the candidate that represents our beliefs, it’s become a measure against allowing a rapist, felon, and fascist, into the Oval Office, and we failed. There are 74 million Americans that failed us. 

I don’t feel the need to comment on any policies or ideas. There’s no need. We all understand that the situation is bad, but all I’ve heard from people around me is that: we don’t know what to do.

I’ve seen a lot of people posting about how we should/shouldn’t lose friendships over politics.

People arguing on social media, yelling at each other through Instagram Notes. Everyone’s trying to do the RIGHT thing, but as we’ve learnt over and over again through history, and as Spike Lee investigated in Do The Right Thing, there is no right thing.

Perhaps it’s naive, but at the moment I believe that all we can do is be good to those around us. Look after our mothers, sisters, friends, classmates. Tell them you love them. Once we let go of that fear, it’s our first step to moving forward with love. 

My Dad texted me the morning of the election. He said “Humans are weird, but we are strong. Love you.” I think that sums it up.