Thursday, November 10, 2016

To all those of you who voted for Trump.

In light of recent events, and particularly due to the protests taking place tonight and tomorrow in Madison, I thought I would write my opinion regarding the latest issues. 

Firstly, I want to be clear on my position. I understand that not everyone who voted for Donald Trump did so because they agree with his racist, misogynist, bigoted comments. I understand that many of them voted because they fear for the economy, and because they are exercising the power they have to choose a representative. However, while I am able to acknowledge this, I cannot say that I agree with or support that decision. 

Voting is a way of validating your existence as a citizen. When you granted Trump your vote, you decided that while asserting your existence was important, it didn't matter to you if you invalidated mine, along with that of 50 million immigrants, and countless students, workers, and expats who are here legally, and rightfully. You decided that our lives were somehow less important than yours. 

Now, let me tell you something else. The problem is not that Trump won. Trump is an entertainer, a businessman, a character, and a public figure. His relative success in business stems from telling people what they want to hear. He told you, Trump supporter, that your racist, sexist, narcissistic ideas were valid, correct, and encouraged. He told you what you wanted to hear in order to gain your vote. Trump is a demagogue, and borrowing from the words of H.L. Mencken, "the demagogue is one who preaches doctrines he knows to be untrue, to men he knows to be idiots". The problem is not Trump. The problem is that you believed him. The problem is that, regardless of why you chose to do so, you granted him your vote. You granted him your confidence, and you put the continuity of your nation as a land of freedom in his hands. The problem is not Trump. The problem is you. 

Two days ago, you put the stability of your country in the hands of a man with no government experience. You put the lives of fifty million people at risk, because they were born somewhere else. You threatened my rightful, legal ability to study in the U.S. because I was raised with values different from yours. Heck, I was raised with values. Two days ago, you decided that because our skin tones are two shades darker than yours, we are worthless. That because I am a woman, I can be manipulated, violated and discarded. That because I am Mexican, I am a criminal. 

Today, when I see my friend crying because she fears for her parents who were born abroad, when I call my mother and she is worried, when I am uncertain of my future in this country and of the stability of my College education, I do not forgive you. When my classmates feel left out of the community because they wear the hijab, and when I see people protesting, and in fear, I do not forgive you. I do not understand you, I do not support you, and I do not respect you. Because regardless of why you voted for Trump, your vote expressed your support for blatantly discriminating Muslims, for acting against the LGBTQ community, and for violently targeting minorities. If there comes a day when Palestine is wiped off the map, I hope you voter, hold yourself accountable, because that is exactly what your vote endorsed. 

To all those of you who are saying things along the lines of "regardless of the outcome of this election, let's all stand united and not allow love to die, and hate to divide us...", understand that you are speaking from a privileged standpoint. Know that you are lucky to not have your family in danger, to not have to worry where and how you are going to live, to not worry about your livelihood being threatened by people who took the elections as a joke. Know that whatever is next depends on how you choose to act towards the millions of people who had to stand idly watching you decide our future. Know, and understand the power that you hold today, and use it to really, actually, stop hate from further dividing your country. 

Monday, October 31, 2016

2 years, 2 months, 1 week, and 1 day later.

2 years, 2 months, 1 week, and a day. 
That's how long it's been since I left home for the first time. 
Since that day, it's been 4 countries, 9 cities, 5 apartments, and 3 different schools.



After being all around the place, when people ask me why I chose Wisconsin (of all places!), the answer is actually rather simple: it felt familiar. I wanted College to represent some sort of stability. I wanted to live in a place that felt like my own, where I could see regular faces, and have something to hold onto. 

My memories of Madison consisted of hot summers, running barefoot in the grass, spending the day coming in and out of the pool, and eating warm berries right after I picked them from the trees. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that Madison is only warm for about 2 months before it gets colder than Siberia, and during that time, the most exciting thing to happen here are the protests of the Westboro Baptist Church against the "whorehouse" that is my University (I wish I was kidding). 


It took me a whole year of complaining to adjust to the place. Even now, you'll be met with an eye-roll if you greet me with an "IT'S GAAAAAME DAAAAY!" on a Saturday morning (or any other day of your life), and I will not forgive you if you judge me because I don't like cheese curds. I still think there are no real places to go shopping in Madison, and I hate the fact that Marcus Point Cinema is so far, and Sundance doesn't have all the movies, but now I know that with all its disadvantages, and all its little quirks, there's another place apart from Mexico where I feel okay.

I love the fact that most of my classes take place under the museum. I like walking to my Arabic class, where I know and like everybody, and I look forward to all those hours in between my classes when I can sit at College Library with a hot chocolate in hand, pretending to do homework when I'm really just watching The Office and taking snaps of the lake as seen from the windows of the third floor. 


Madison is not adventurous and exciting like India. It's not a vacation, like Paris, and the food is really bad, unlike in my own country, but it's alright. It's knowing that 9 times out of 10 I will be hanging out with Sadeq, most likely talking things that are completely irrelevant but really funny (for us), it's waking up to home-made coffee, and walking to the museum on Tuesday afternoons, and editing, and the reassurance that I'm doing what I love. 

In all honesty, I've seen more cows here than I ever saw in India, but at least now I'm not living off my suitcase.

Monday, September 5, 2016

To new beginnings.

There is something endearing about new beginnings. 

The shy manner in which the sun shines when its rising. The way in which a new week feels crisp, and a new year feels like a white canvas, ready to be filled with whatever the heart desires. I know my blog has been left a white canvas for too long now. 

When I started this blog, I was a few weeks shy from turning 18. I was moving to India where I would write all about experiencing a different culture and living on top of a hill with people coming from all corners of the world. What I wanted to achieve here was a conversation between myself and the people I was leaving behind, and I think my accomplishments went above and beyond my expectations.


After a few months, I moved to Canada, and the blog shifted into an account of learning how to live on my own, as well as detailing my tourist outings and other random shenanigans. I did this because I wanted to keep that conversation going, but mostly because it is through writing that I can give my life any sort of purpose.


Two years and barely 31 blog posts later, I am 20 years old, and writing from an apartment in the U.S., where I have been living for a year. Tomorrow I'll be starting my sophomore year of college. 

How time freaking flies. 

I know I have been away from the blog for a long time, but I want to give myself the gift of starting a new conversation. Of what, I am still unsure. I will try to be around here as often as I possibly can, but I must warn you, my life right now has the chaos of a Boccioni, the nonconformity of all the Dada, and the vividness of the most colorful Matisse. That's the endearing part of new beginnings, right? You rarely, if ever, know where they are going to lead. 

Until then, and always, thanks for reading.