Following the events that occurred early Wednesday morning, I proceeded to, albeit under a heavy cloud of despair, drive to campus for my first class of the day.

I, like thousands of other Americans, was monitoring the election in real-time. I was eagerly anticipating the point at which more than just my home state (thanks a lot, Indiana) and Kentucky would report a verdict. Initially, I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t exactly surprised to see my state turn red almost immediately, but as the night went on I saw more of the devilish color fill my screen.

Slowly, but surely, we all began to realize that this election was all but finished. Donald Trump was in the lead for a significant portion of the night, but as time went on it became increasingly clear that Hillary had lost.

Before the official winner had been announced I was asleep. I was aware of the unfortunate direction in which things were headed, and I saw no point in remaining conscious for what was going to be an inevitably depressing outcome.

Sure enough, I awoke to a nation that had elected its new president: Donald Trump. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I carried myself downstairs to get a cup of coffee and I found my mother wide awake and watching Donald’s acceptance speech on her phone. I was well aware that she had voted for him and I was thoroughly repulsed to find her perfectly content that morning. The man that had so carelessly divided this nation and fanned the flames of intolerance had gained the presidency.

I proceeded to shower, dress, and make my way to campus.

I met my friend before class, as I usually do, and we shared a silent look of disgust. Neither of us needed to vocalize our frustration because we knew very well how we both felt.

We both proceeded to walk to our class. This class, Global Migrations, is a wonderfully comprehensive course in anthropology and has already taught me so much. This class is taught by an equally wonderful professor. This woman, the woman that has devoted her life to teaching me and others about the cultures and peoples of the world, walked into the room looking as if she had recently been crying.

A graduate student that often works in the room beside ours stepped in prior to the professor’s arrival and mentioned that she was going to sit in on what she knew was going to be an interesting class period.

As my professor opened her mouth to speak, her voice immediately cracked as she simply began by saying “All I could do last night was think of you guys.” She continued to speak through tears.

My class is incredibly diverse. It is a class comprised of intelligent people that represent a vast array of backgrounds and cultures. There are multiple individuals (including myself) that identify as gay. There are multiple individuals that are attending school here in America but traveled here from countries such as Saudi Arabia and Ecuador. There is one woman whose boyfriend is a beneficiary of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) legislation.

Upon hearing her voice quiver, I immediately began to cry. She didn’t need to explain in order for me to understand. I knew how she felt. This woman, whom I have only known for about a year, expressed to me more sympathy than my mother, the woman that gave me life, ever could.

The class continued.

My professor, although she initially fought it, effectively abandoned any hope of a normal class period. Rather, she offered this time as a safe space for us to share our feelings about the previous night’s events and to express our thoughts.

The graduate student that had chosen to sit in raised her hand.

Although she had been smiling when she first came in, she quickly began to sob. In between the tears, she expressed her concerns. She shared how she was afraid that, as a gay woman, she would lose the right to marry who she loves. I had mostly collected myself after my first set of tears, but this woman’s statements sent me straight back. I sat in that room with tears falling from my face as people shared their thoughts. And I, too, shared my own.

When I felt confident in my ability to speak, without being interrupted by own tears, I shared how, the night before, my aunt (who had voted for Trump) sent me a text which read “Well well well…” This message was sent after Trump gained another, ultimately decisive, set of electoral votes. It was clear he was going to win and she felt the need to rub it in my face. I responded simply: “Yes. Thank you for voting against my human rights, as well as your own.” To which she replied: “No problem! Hehe.”

This woman (who knows that I am gay) directly mocked me as well as the situation into which voters like her had forced me.

My teacher expressed her sympathy as I explained that the above message made me want to immediately break down into tears. “I hope you did,” she responded.

“Well, I certainly have today.”

Rest assured, there were many tears the day after Trump’s election.

Understand this: if you voted for Donald Trump you voted to legitimize and normalize hatred. You voted to reify the racism, the bigotry, the misogyny, and the xenophobia. You are complicit in his indefensible and reckless division of this nation.

Make no mistake. You have made real some of the worst fears shared between countless individuals that suffer as members of marginalized groups.

You can deny your own racism, your own bigotry, and your own misogyny. For all I know, these assertions may even be true. But what you must understand is also true is the fact that whether or not you are a racist or a bigot, you still voted to award the most powerful position in the world to one. You may not be a misogynist or a xenophobe, but you nonetheless elected one.

“But I only voted for him because I care about gun rights.”

You voted for him based on that singular issue in spite of the hatred.

“But he’s pro-life and Hillary wants to kill babies.”

You voted for him based on that singular issue in spite of the hatred.

This is privilege. This is privilege if ever there were any. For you to be so safe as to feel comfortable electing a man that has repeatedly called for violence against his opponents and deportation for the migrants whose work he undoubtedly exploits, you are, quite simply, privileged. You are privileged in that you needn’t worry about whether or not Trump’s anti-LGBTQ+ legislation materializes into reality. You are privileged in that you needn’t worry about whether or not the violence many of his supporters engage in will affect you.

We do not all share that privilege.

I do not share that privilege.

My friends that are of African-American descent do not share that privilege.

My peers that journeyed from far away countries to pursue an education do not share that privilege.

If you are bothered by the reactions of Hillary’s supporters in response to this election, I am not sorry.

If you are annoyed by the tears and the expressions of fear from individuals that were terrified of a Trump presidency, I am not sorry. And further, you ought to keep this dissatisfaction to yourself. Because hear me when I say that lives are quite literally at stake. Human rights are at stake. Families are at stake. So for you or anyone else to imply that these concerns are unwarranted or otherwise misguided is not only disrespectful, it is thoroughly inappropriate.

By electing a man that has repeatedly criminalized Latinx immigrants, sexualized and assaulted both underage and adult women, and called for a ban on Muslim immigrants you have officially declared that this behavior is not only acceptable, it is preferred. You have shown that this type of behavior is not only appropriate, it is good enough to earn you the most the powerful position on Earth.

This election has sent a very dangerous message. It has told all of the racists and the bigots and the xenophobes that their behavior is appropriate. This is dangerous. This is threatening. Reports of assault and intimidation have already surfaced. So do not tell me or anyone else to “calm down.”

But it isn’t over.

If you’re like me and you fear what a Trump presidency could mean for this nation, sign this petition. It calls on the electoral college to award their votes to Hillary in order to prevent Donald Trump from truly winning this election. The choice is theirs to make, and it is our duty to do everything we can to sway them in the correct direction.

The electoral college was established for the sole purpose of preventing an unfit candidate from gaining the presidency. If ever there were a time to use this stipulation to the election process to alter an outcome, it is now. Donald Trump is not only unfit, he failed to win the popular vote.

So if you’re with me, sign the petition. If you're with her, sign the petition. If you're with neither but refuse to allow hatred to be so publicly endorsed, sign the petition.

Maybe it won’t change anything.

But maybe it will change everything.