Man-slaughter / Foreigner in my own home

These past couple weeks, people from both sides of the political spectrum have called for unity and for the need to “love” everyone despite what “side” they are on.

How can I be expected to love a person who voted to deny my very existence? Who voted to reject my presence in this country? Donald Trump supporters say that they voted for this candidate based on his “policies.” What policies? The policy of putting my family and me on a national registry? The policy of stop and frisk? The policy of shunning every minority group in this country?

I hear Trump supporters saying that they voted based on “policy” and that they do not intend for me to be hurt. It is the action, not the intent, that matters. They may not be a misogynist or a racist, but they supported one.

The people who voted for Trump, voted third party or did not vote at all granted a man, who repeatedly dehumanized and attacked minorities, power. And it was easy for them. They do not have to fear stepping out of their homes only to be spit at or shot to death by people fueled and legitimized by the President-elect’s bigoted rhetoric and hate. They do not have to fear their hijabs being ripped from their heads or fear being harassed on a train while fifty others remain silent.

I, like many others, feel betrayed. I feel betrayed by my country; I feel betrayed by the 53 percent of white women who voted for Trump and, in the process, sacrificed women’s progress for the sake of white supremacy; I feel betrayed by my neighbors who preach “love” and “unity” only when it is of benefit to their white privilege.

Despite the grave consequences I and many others will face as a result of this election, I also feel this election is a blessing in disguise. Since the President-elect began his campaign, every part of my identity felt questioned and under attack. I now realize that this country will never accept me as a complete, true American despite being born here. I was delusional to think it ever would — my parents have accents, my religion is too dangerous, my skin is too brown.

And I cannot scrub the color off, no matter how hard I try. I will always be a foreigner in my own home.