November 8th was loud.
There were Hillary Clinton supporters who yelled at Donald Trump supporters. There were Donald Trump supporters yelling at Hillary Clinton supporters. There were third party candidate supporters yelling at both of the other groups. There were people standing on the main walkway of our campus (Appian Way) asking everybody if they had voted. There were professors that ranted and raved to their students about who they should vote for. Even the sidewalks were loud, carrying the chalked messages of each candidate.
The next day, Keene State College was quiet. It wasn’t because people were out of words, but instead it was because we all had too many to say. The Trump supporters on campus were not celebrating as one would have expected. They were quiet. The Hillary Clinton supporters were not protesting as one would have expected. They were quiet. The campus had settled into a somber silence.
I spoke to a friend of mine that day who was a Donald Trump supporter. I asked him why he was not celebrating, for his candidate of choice had become the next President of the United States. He told me that he chose Donald Trump for his thoughts on establishment politics and returning jobs to the US. He explained that his intention was not to take away the rights of some of his closest friends. When he saw the reactions of his peers that day, he stopped celebrating. Understanding that some of the people closest to him were not worried about foreign affairs or the economy, but instead about their own safety was unsettling. The knowledge that they now felt that they would be losing any progress that had been made in the last 8 years was something that had not played into his decision; however, he explained that it was not the time to try to argue with them or to debate. He explained that right now was about healing, Today might have been what he wanted, but the word bittersweet was an understatement.
The campus itself was covered in a slight drizzle all day after a heavy rain sometime in the early morning. All that was left on the sidewalks were faded lines and colors that only echoed the vibrancy of the day before. The entire campus seemed to be hollow. There were less than 20 people in the Dining Commons. The paths that snaked through campus were covered with puddles, and the few people that I saw trudging somewhere, averted their eyes. Any semblance of a greeting was replaced with the soft patter of footsteps. It was as if everyone had decided that it needed time to process what had happened.
I spoke to another friend of mine that day who supported Hillary Clinton. She had already cried 3 times that day and said she was all out of tears. She was worried about the future. She explained to me that she wasn’t sure what was going to happen because now the President-elect had made it possible to use hateful rhetoric in everyday life. When I asked what she meant, she explained that if a president can say things that are sexist, misogynistic, and racist, then it made it acceptable for everyone else to mimic him; however, everyone else doesn’t need to be refined or attempt any form of politeness. She was worried about people saying or doing things to her because of her sexuality. She didn’t express any feelings of anger, but she did tell me that she wanted to know why people felt she shouldn’t be allowed to have the rights that heterosexual people have. I didn't know what to tell her.
When I went to go talk to other people about what had happened, most people didn't want to talk about it. Meals were eaten in silence, walks were taken without conversation, and car rides weren't filled with voices.
November 9th was quiet.
