There Is Hope

The tension in the room was palpable. The hum of muffled chatter was interrupted sporadically by errant sobs. Disbelief. Despondence. Despair.

Nov. 8, 2016.

I sat in Memorial Hall at Harvard University, watching the historic 2016 election results unfold in a completely unexpected way. Though the vast majority of expert analysis had predicted a victory for Hillary Clinton, outsider Donald Trump was on track to be the next President of the United States. Here I was, at arguably the heart of education in North America, and all around me some of the most qualified students in the world were falling apart.

The rhetoric that Donald Trump has used to campaign with over the past 18 months is insidious, incorrect, and a threat to democracy. He is racist. He is lewd. He is surprising. He is threatening. He is loud. He is bold.

But his election to the top position in the United States government is not as much a reflection on him as it is a clear message from the American people. They are disenfranchised. They are uncertain. They are angry. They are afraid.

At times like these, it is hard to know how to react. I, personally, have never felt such a convoluted array of emotions. I feel, however, that it is important to cling to a cliché: that there is always hope. Even in the darkest of times, hope is a little butterfly that will claw its way back from the abyss to light humanity's path.

Democracy has its ups and downs. Like us, every system made by humans is flawed. But democracy in its truest form was never meant to protect the interests of the few—it was meant to represent the interests of the many. Like it or not, it has done that here in America.

As I said over and over Tuesday night: I have faith in the American people. While the election's results did cause me to reevaluate this notion, that faith remains.

We are about to enter an interesting few months. It is of critical importance that we remember that we have been through tough times before. We have been divided. We have been upset. And we have been afraid. But by holding on to ideals that make us uniquely human—hope, love, kinship, peace and, yes, democracy—we will make it through the coming times.

To those watching in disbelief around the world: I know that the choice the American people have made may seem unbelievable, frightening, and even provoking. But we must remember that, although it doesn't seem this way, the system worked. The will of the people shone through. While that may be concerning, it is symbolic of the underlying strength of the democratic values that run deep in this nation. Of this we should be proud. And if it is of any solace, just as that will can give power, so too can it take it away.

I have sat with the very people Trump has repeatedly attacked. My classmates and closest friends are of different faiths, ethnic and national origins, and sexual orientations. Some are undocumented immigrants.

These people have every reason to be angry and afraid. Angry at those who voted for a leader who threatens their very existence—and afraid for what is to come.

But these people woke up alongside me this morning, got dressed, and went to class. They did this because the desire for knowledge, for understanding, for truth, cannot be repressed. We will continue to learn, continue to question, and continue to work towards a brighter future, because that is what the world needs.

In times of confusion and chaos, we must—and will—continue to seek common ground and learn from our mistakes.

Jasper D. Johnston ’20 is a freshman living in Matthews Hall.