When he said he was running for President, I wasn’t afraid of him. I wasn’t at all bothered. Up until that moment, he wasn’t on my radar- he was famous for being famous, much like Snooki and Kim K.
When he began to tell the world how he hated Mexicans, I was shocked, but not afraid. I didn’t think he’d be our President. I thought that we the people were reasonable and that we cared for one another. So, one by one, as he came after us all- Muslims, immigrants, women-I wasn’t even the tiniest bit worried. He did not threaten me personally, the world was too big for me to feel the backlash.
When he won the Republican nomination, I felt it in my bones, but I wasn’t scared, I refused to be scared, because I figured we would beat him and he’d be forgotten.
When our new President was elected, I was not afraid of him. I was afraid of the hatred he had awoken, like some kind of primordial swamp monster. I wished to give him a chance, even though it didn’t mean anything good for a person like me.
When he was inaugurated, I did not feel afraid. I felt sick. I was shaken up, but the fight wouldn’t end there. It couldn’t end there.
Today, I stand tall and refuse to back down. If I am scared, who will fight back for me? Fear has a time and a place, but right now… I can’t spare anything for fear.