When I walked into my office on Wednesday 9th November, 2016, I looked at my fellow writer, Alex, and I had nothing to say.
He looked at me. A pause.
“Our job is more important now, Amy,” he said.
When I had woken up that morning and rolled over and looked at my phone, I saw the same thing that shocked millions of people all around the world: despite all the evidence against him, despite every despicable thing he had said and done, despite multiple accusations of assault, Donald Trump had been elected President of America.
I didn’t feel the crushing horror that I felt at that same moment in June, when I realised Brexit was happening. A part of me knew that we would leave the EU then, and I was devastated to learn that I was right.
But in a million years, I never thought America would elect Trump. I was so sure. I kept telling people: it won’t happen. I’m sure it won’t happen. Looking at the news that day, I just felt numb.
I did the things I always do in the morning. I switched on Radio 4. I made myself a cup of tea. I ate breakfast. As I put on my makeup, I listened to Trump say that he would be a president “for all Americans” and I shuddered. I put down my lipstick. What’s the point? I picked it up again. (Lipstick makes me feel strong, and now more than ever, I needed to be strong.)
I stopped feeling numb, eventually. I felt desperately sad. Then I felt determined to do something. Then I felt scared. Then I felt hopeless. Then I felt tired.
I still feel tired.
But in the months since that day, my thoughts have become clearer. And there are three things that I’ve decided to believe in, in this new, angry, divisive world. They are obvious, and idealistic, and a bit schmaltzy. But all the same, I’m writing them here as a record, a reminder, and a plan.
1) Love. I keep thinking about this interview with Antoine Leiris, and his absolute refusal to have any room for hate in his life. There were tweets that Wednesday mournfully declaring that hate won, sexism won, racism won, homophobia won. It didn’t. I refuse to have any room for them. We’re all still here, our beliefs haven’t changed, and we have to keep looking after each other.
2) Truth. There’s been a lot of talk about “post-truth” politics in the last year. I do not agree with it. The truth still exists. Things still happen. Facts are still facts. And around the world, activists and journalists are working constantly and fearlessly to shine a light on them. Sometimes people don’t believe them, but that doesn’t change what is true. Sometimes they are horrible, but that should not mean that we look away. Alex’s words to me on that bleak Wednesday morning have stayed with me. We write, every day, for a news website that is read by thousands of teenagers. And our job is more important now. We have a responsibility to tell them the truth, as fairly as we can, without losing hope. And then they can make up their own minds.
3) Action. There’s a lot of work to do over the next few years. Things will need protesting, and things will need protecting. But we can all do small things, whether that’s donating money to causes that need it, making our voices heard at protests, contacting our local politicians, supporting the most vulnerable people, or being there for our friends when they need us.
I wish I had more concrete answers. But most change is incremental. It’s lots of small things building up over time to create something huge. That will be true of Trump’s time in power. It’s also true of how to stop him.
Be safe. Be well. Look after yourself.