This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
Just two days after last week's stunning election, I was supposed to moderate a panel discussion about the results at the Real Women Run fall social. Fifty women quietly chatted and then took their seats in what in other years has been a lively and social affair. Several questions into the discussion, I realized that the women in the room had no interest in dissecting voter turnout rates or exit polls. Rather, these women who represented many different political parties, races and religions needed a forum to ask questions and discuss their frustrations and fears. I covered my script and began passing the microphone around the room.
Just the night before, I listened as my neighbor sat on my couch and detailed how his son, who is of Hispanic and Filipino heritage, was bullied at school and told he was going to be deported. I've also listened as my sister, who is a school social worker, talk about the number of students she has seen who feel uncertain about their standing in our country because they are Hispanic, Muslim, LGBT, transgender, or even because of their gender.
The sadness permeating many corners of the country is more than disappointment that a certain candidate did not win. It is more than being upset that a woman did not break the presidential glass ceiling. It is at the least a feeling of deep disappointment that the divisive comments made by the Donald Trump campaign about race, religion and gender did not seem to matter to his supporters. For some, it is fear for their personal safety and the safety of their neighbors and families. Widespread reports of bullying and hate crimes show these fears and worries are neither exaggeration nor hyperbole.
While the forum I moderated began with raw emotion, it ended on an incredibly powerful note. Several attendees explained that though they did not support Trump, they were earnestly trying to understand why many women did. That though they felt victimized by the election, they needed to withhold judgment of Trump supporters who also felt victimized, either by an economic recovery that had left them behind or by a party and government they felt no longer represented them.
Additionally, the women in the room detailed how they had already signed up to volunteer at their children's schools, joined a social movement or plan to run for municipal office next year. They decided to channel their pain and heed Secretary Hillary Clinton's call to action. They aren't waiting four years to get involved, they are doing it now. It is my hope we all follow their example. That we don't respond to anger with anger. Rather, that we empathize with our fellow citizens and seek out new ways to engage in our communities.
In doing so, we can emerge from this painful and divisive election and find positive ways to improve our country.
Morgan Lyon Cotti is an associate adjunct professor in political science at the University of Utah.