A few days ago, I was sitting in my car with a friend of mine. I am a white woman, she is African American. It was the day after the election and both of us were notably quiet. All I could do was turn to her and ask "Are you okay?" to which she responded, her voice thick with tears, "No."

The results of this election have many people I love dearly in hysterics. My heart breaks for them, and fear and anger have begun to consume my thoughts.

I've had several days to process the results of the election and I've found that beyond my upset and worry, I'm finding a void. A disconnect. A helplessness.

The reason is because I am a white person in the upper middle class. I am a beacon of privilege and I always have been. It's not something I deny, because there's no use in it. I have known very few struggles in my life.

A few days prior to the conversation in my car, I was speaking with a group of friends, all who had been less fortunate than I in many respects, be it that their families had fallen apart, they hadn't known any sort of wealth, or they'd faced discrimination due to the color of their skin, what they believed, or who they loved.

At the time, I felt completely disconnected. I couldn't offer pity, I couldn't sympathize. So I sat silently, nodding and listening. I told myself that they were a few of the reasons why I chose to vote in the direction I did. It didn't really cross my mind how much this election scared them or even how much it scared me.

On the night of the election, I watched my friends pace nervously. I watched them call family members and pray vigorously. My roommates and I were up until 2 a.m. on at least three different news sites, trying to get every update possible as it came in. A sense of dread settled in as the outcome of the election became inevitable.

Now, I was upset. Angry, actually. Shocked. But none of those feelings compared to the sheer horror I witnessed not only among my friends, but among those in similar situations online. People weren't just angry. They were terrified. Worried for their lives. Completely disappointed in their country and their government.

I became worried for those I knew who are minorities. Those who are ostracized, and those who many in the nation do not see as valid or worth protecting. And while I believe I have always been a reasonably educated and cultured individual, I had never really understood the dread they felt, because I have never felt it. And odds are, I never really will.

I am a white member of the upper middle class.

I do not understand discrimination. I do not understand profiling by the police. I do not understand being targeted because of my religion, or because of my significant other.

I do not wish to understand. And I wish no one else had to. But that is the reality of the world we live in, and a reality that has been made all the more dangerous due to this election.

All I can do is stand up for those who have less than I. Comforting them and offering my sympathy is pointless, and does nothing to lessen the sting. I will love my friends for who they are, and protect them against what I can. Compared to their burdens, this is the least I can do.

I can't understand, but I can listen, learn, and take action.