Please prove me wrong.
I write these lines on the morning after Donald Trump was elected president with the secret hope of being proved wrong in four years.
I can’t help but see a very dark time ahead for America and the planet.
I see the rise of both Islamophobia and terrorism, haunting the lives of innocent citizens across the globe.
I see police brutality against the most vulnerable people on the march, with nobody to bring the abusers to justice.
I see peaceful demonstrators being intimidated on the streets.
I see members of the media being pressured to stay silent or get kicked out of the White House briefings if they ask the wrong questions.
I see an economy that shrinks and closes its borders.
I see a middle class with shallow pockets struggling to make ends meet as the costs of health and education grow higher than ever before.
I see much more for the ones who already have more and close to nothing for the ones who have little.
I see sleepless immigrant families wondering if they will still be living together, under the same roof, by the break of dawn.
I see girls walking their campus in fear, as fraternity boys are now certain that nobody will hold them accountable if they judge their female counterparts by their looks or get “grabby”.
I see women in their workplaces feeling that the glass ceiling above their heads is slowly turning to steel.
I see gay, lesbians and transgendered people asking themselves if those vows they hopefully exchanged will mean anything to the new law of the land.
Trump did not hide who he was. He showed it for all of us -and his voters- to see.
You can’t say you were not warned.
Dear Future, please prove me wrong.