I am one of many people who keeps a to-do list each day. But Nov. 6 when I woke up and saw the news of the election results, the composition of the list drastically changed. Number one on my list became getting out of bed. A simple task I could not accomplish for hours as I was plagued by panic attacks and crying spells.
I laid there inconsolable, mourning the loss of what could have been. Feeling the weight of all I had to lose as every fear I’ve ever had rushed through my mind. I cried out of fear for my peer’s ability to be openly queer. I mourned my access to reproductive health care. I wept at the thought of the many lockdowns I had endured, and the many more I might experience. I silently screamed for our Earth. When I did manage to get out of bed, the tears did not stop.
Number two: eat breakfast. Another failed task as the sickening feeling of watching my future slip away fell over me. So I left for class with an empty stomach and the taste of vomit lingering right below the lump in my throat.
Number three: class. As a political science major I was plagued by discussions of the night's events. Talking about polling margins and the rhetoric surrounding the campaigns, all said casually as if it didn’t affect them. Not a single woman’s voice cut through the swirl of conversation — silence that was much more telling than words could be.
Number four on my to-do list was to call the doctor. I began researching gynecologist after gynecologist, looking for one taking new patients. I was in a scramble to find a doctor who could insert an IUD before it is no longer available, a mad dash that me and several of my friends all participated in out of fear of contraceptive bans.
Number five involved reaching out to loved ones. As I called each one we cried together, sharing how we were feeling. Relishing that we had people who would always accept us — a luxury many do not have. The privilege to call a friend rather than a crisis hotline. Hotlines that had a 700 percent rise in call volume the day after the election.
That was all I could manage. Five tasks that left me emotionally drained, more exhausted than I had been in months. But tomorrow, the number one on my to-do list will be to fight, to peacefully protest. Spend the rest of my life working to reverse the systematic oppression and hateful rhetoric the next four years may bring.
And to all my fellow voters who spent today saying that this is better for America, I hope you all never have a to-do list like mine today. Because it will suddenly become clear to you why forgiveness was not number six. I refuse to alleviate your guilt with my forgiveness. If you want redemption, reflect on your actions and join in fighting for the future of America.
- Erin Cozzie, UNC '28
