Dear Layla,
I’ve tried my best to shield you from the harsh realities of the world, especially in light of the 2016 presidential election, but it seems I may have fallen short. On that fateful morning, your bright, innocent eyes sparkled with anticipation as you tiptoed into my room, eager for the results. But I was left speechless, grappling with a truth that’s hard to digest. The woman you admired was defeated by a brash man whose words often belittled women. There’s no way to soften that blow, and I wish I could protect you from the disappointment and the uncertain future it hints at.
My silence weighs heavily on you, and my arms are all I can offer right now. After a moment, you asked me if I was scared of Donald Trump. My instinct was to brush off your concern, but your keen perspective has tapped into the fears I’m trying to suppress. One day, I hope you can read this and grasp what I couldn’t articulate back then.
My fear isn’t just about being afraid; it’s more about dread. How do I explain to you that the man who will be your president has shown a penchant for demeaning and objectifying women? How can I encourage you to embrace your intelligence when we’re led by someone who places so much importance on appearance? I worry that our male allies may retreat in our fight for equality, and that the progress we’ve made on parental leave, pay equity, and reproductive rights could be reversed. I fear that these harsh truths will reach you in ways I can’t control, and that they might shatter your self-belief.
As the election results rolled in, I sought reassurance in past elections, but as the map turned red, anxiety crept in. I hoped for a miracle, but when Pennsylvania went Republican, I turned off the TV and looked at your dad. Shock doesn’t even begin to cover the panic we felt, especially knowing his promises to ban and monitor Muslims.
That night, our home felt strangely hostile, echoing a resounding “Get out!” It was hard to sleep, knowing our children would soon ask for answers we weren’t ready to provide. So, am I afraid? Yes, but not just of Donald Trump; I fear the forces he has emboldened. I worry for our civil rights and the potential for division and hatred to disrupt our lives. I fear that the beauty of our diverse country will be sacrificed for his ego, and that my faith in humanity might be naïve.
Not long ago, I was reminded of a history class that focused on understanding and preventing the root causes of genocide. It seemed like a relic of the past, but watching Trump’s rise made me realize how easily society can turn against its own. His campaign has been rooted in dehumanization and scapegoating, and what seemed impossible became a grim reality. Yes, I am afraid — afraid that we are witnessing just the beginning, and that we are not part of his vision for America.
Despite these fears, I cling to hope. I see a future filled with individuals who believe in equality, justice, and love. I trust that our generation, along with yours, will embrace these ideals and remain vigilant against complacency. Let’s learn from this moment, so our worst nightmares don’t manifest into reality.
Layla, know that you are loved, and together we will navigate whatever comes next.