Over the course of one week, I feel like I have gone on my own emotional parabola. If you had talked to me before last Tuesday, there is a chance that I spoke in hushed tones, using phrases like “cautiously optimistic” to discuss Election Day. To me, there’s very little that felt guaranteed. There was constant talk of voter fraud and the belief that this would drag on for weeks, becoming yet another insufferable conversation point that left the country in uncertainty. Wasn’t it enough that this country is closing in on a quarter-million Coronavirus deaths, that the west coast is still on fire, that hurricane season is having one of its biggest years? Why did we need an election that never ended?
Of course, the fear was also located somewhere in the fact that the 2016 presidential election was shrouded in a Russian hacking scheme that got laughed off. There was no fight for legitimacy the last time around. The Electoral College did its job, and that was all that was needed. You give an inch, he takes a mile. The past four years have been an exhausting run of controversies, watching him turn everyday life into new conspiracies, designed to instill fear in everyone. He passed a new Supreme Court Justice in an illegally short time for his own personal gain. It felt like Election Day would be one long day of strong-arming, again calling the man who believed in science and humanity a wuss.
It’s why it took me a few hours to finally tune into the results. I knew my obsessive mind would stay glued, unable to tear away for long. Every new result felt like a reason for living. It’s why I prolonged the inevitable by watching, in a cheeky manner, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (1967), which – fun fact – has a villain who is the nephew of the C.E.O. named “Frump.”
Even then, there was a time when I worried that I had jinxed the election by watching a capitalist musical. By 10 PM PST, my heart was racing. I was on edge and eagerly awaiting the next state to call. I watched the initial margin shrink. I felt concerned as states like Florida shot him within a close margin. He had gotten over 100 points in three hours, beating his opponent’s minimal 50-ish points gain. As he took the lead, I feared the worst. While I could be relieved that the west coast was a solid blue barrier, it was difficult to fathom why this wasn’t a runaway. I knew to expect it after 2016, but it still felt strange to believe that he was in the lead.
Election Day was rough for me. Even as I blared Ava Max’s “Kings & Queens” on the radio while driving around and getting good vibes earlier that day, part of me feared that something was going to slip up. I usually love the democratic process, but this election season has been gross. It was a smear campaign of hate, and I remember watching The Republican National Convention and listening to a unified message of fear. It was one that proposed that he *might* release the Coronavirus vaccine but only *if* he wins. He was using our health as a pawn in this ridiculous chess game.
I have faith in democracy. I believe in the idea that “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union…” is one of our most essential declarations. It’s a recognition that what we have is imperfect, needing constant updates. The term union is supposed to be one that brings us together, in a constant battle of compromise for a shared country. I understand that this is a country full of problematic history, but it’s because of the idea of a “more perfect union” that we get Civil Rights, women’s voting rights, gay marriage, and so much more. I believe the term is a compassionate reminder that we may be great, but we can always be better.
It’s what I feared was missing over the past few years and was on the verge of being forgotten by a generation. Journalism was being discredited and the truth was no longer an accepted form of commentary. It was the rise of “Alternative Facts” and constantly spinning ideas from the very petty (crowd size) to the downright harmful (Charlottesville). Considering that Republicans passed bills in the dead of night and refused to compromise, I feared that we were facing that obstacle once again. Everyone had given up on the “more perfect union” and was wanting to hold onto what worked for them and not their constituents.
That’s what’s important to understand why looking at how everyone was responding to Election Day. While we all want to believe in the goodwill of mankind, I recognize that my optimism came at the hands of Hillary Clinton losing in 2016. This fear of something potentially worse happening was something I wasn’t ready to fathom. It’s the idea of a country bullying itself into a bigger depression, the death count rising more significantly by the end of 2021. I want to believe that there are good ideas in conservatism, but the federal level’s vision of it has been downright offensive on some days.
I woke up on Wednesday and things was slowly starting to change. Even then, those wanting to experience any faith that things were about to change needed to wait until Thursday. While AP and… everyone else disagreed on if Arizona had called, the reality was that what looked like a close margin on Tuesday was starting to part. Sometime around 4:20 AM EST, Georgia turned blue for the first time in several elections. By sunrise, Pennsylvania would as well. It was surreal to realize the world was a lot less hurtful than I had imagined.
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| Hero (if you know, you know) |
This isn’t to suggest that everything is fixed. There is still an incredible divide in this nation that is, removing larger variables, pretty damn impressive. Think about it. The majority of states were very close, riding on a 50% margin that made Tuesday an insufferable night. It could’ve gone either way, and that should be much more exciting than it was.
It was like a horse race where you bet your house mortgage on Number 5. Your heart racing, feeling like you’re high on cocaine, and maybe get carried away. If this works out, you’re going to be rich. If not, you’re going to have to impound your car and walk home. Considering how this election went, I would argue it was the equivalent of a photo finish, needing Blade Runner (1982)-style technology to determine the fraction that you won by.
Now I know that in some ways the election wasn’t that close. The popular vote had a clear favorite. However, it’s crazy to realize that this was also an election that found democracy in motion, proving how important the process was. For most of my life, the winner was projected on Election Day. I remember in 2008 that Barrack Obama won before California had even been counted. To have a year that took four days to get close enough to determine a winner is amazing to me. It isn’t just the record turnout. It’s the fact that this is being taken seriously. Every vote matters. Halleluiah.
Not only that but by Wednesday evening, my faith in democracy was being restored. It was the idea that he had requested lawsuits against unfounded voter fraud, that he had won before losing by a significant margin. To see Twitter flag him for posting factually incorrect statements was a revelation. By the time that I saw journalists, one of the most disrespected groups in this whole transaction, reach out and call out the errors in his speeches, I realized that something great was happening. They weren’t just going with the lies anymore. They were going to offer an unbiased look at this election.
That is something that everyone deserves, and I feared it was lost. Everyone speaking out against the election is on the wrong side of history, challenging the democratic process in a losing fight. It’s more evidence for why political science and civics courses should be mandatory (I frankly believe a semester of journalism studies should be considered after this). This is the open wound of America realizing that we need to start listening and make compromises. The white supremacy crap needs to end, realizing that everyone deserves to have their voices heard. The fact that, through some irony, he was wanting to stop counting before the military’s votes were entered feels like some strange and perfect symbolism.
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| Never forget |
Saturday was a wonderful day, if just because it felt more deserved. The idea that the world had seen democracy in action over four days made me believe that we’re willing to live and learn. I know that there will be a lot of struggle to make everyone believe that, especially with highly elected officials believing in Q’Anon conspiracy theories. We need to find a return to normalcy, where truth is accepted and people aren’t disregarded solely because you disagree with them.
We need to get back to working on that “more perfect union,” and it’s one of those surreal things I felt as Joe Biden gave his acceptance speech on Saturday evening. I became moved by seeing the word “EMPATHY” hanging proudly on banners. He spoke of everyone, personally mentioning every group. As far as I can tell, he is the first president-elect to ever mention transgender rights. There is something incredible about the image he’s presenting down to having his Vice President be Kamala Harris: a Jamaican-Indian woman from Oakland, CA. While you can argue that Biden seems soft, Harris’ win feels more symbolic of a seismic shift.
I’m not saying that it will be easy for this nation to go towards a morally just compass right away. I’m personally of the mindset that everyone has too much pent-up aggression right now. There’s being productive with criticism, and some are resorting to hurtful jokes. They mostly feel fine because the Republicans feel like bullies, acting childish. While I don’t think that we should let them off the hook, I do believe that at some point insulting their ugly appearances will make you look just as foolish as the men you’re attacking.
We need to get through this aggression and start working toward normalcy again, where everyone is heard and productive ideas can move forward. The idea of tear-gassing peaceful protestors to take a dumb picture in front of a closed church should be the relic of a shameful bygone era. We shouldn’t hold grudges and start figuring out how to move forward. I know it’s difficult. I’m sure I will hold some pain from the depression I’ve felt over the past four years, but hopefully, the mud-slinging doesn’t just change color in 2021.
I am thankful for how this election turned out. While I will fully confess that he felt like a fifth-place candidate going into January 2020, I am relieved to have stuck with him. His speeches during The California Primary were (in elocution) tone-deaf, yelling loudly. In a year with so many interesting candidates from all walks of life, Biden felt safe. I wasn’t opposed, but one can’t help but feel some fear that 2016 was just about to repeat itself.
By the end of his acceptance speech, I realized how much I saw myself in him. There was a sense of human kindness, decades of hard work confidently leading us into a period of change. He was Irish-Catholic. When offered the chance to explain himself, he’ll personally stop and talk to you, making sure we understand each other. He saw children with speech impediments and sought to help them. While we can speculate what he does and doesn’t do going forward, there is something amazing about going from a president who made fun of a physically handicapped reporter to one who sympathized. It wasn’t only that, but he understood loss in his own family. He felt genuine and real in ways that are shockingly refreshing.
While I am thankful to have avoided a lot of the dirtiness of this election, I am thankful to know that some things worked out. There are at least a few pieces in place that suggest we can work towards the idealized vision. I am thankful to believe in the change again. I am thankful that we’re back to working on that “more perfect union.” This country could use some healing, some acceptance from every decent American. We’ve been on edge for four years, and it will be nice to back up and realize that things may end up going well.
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