On Kamala Harris' defeat against Donald Trump: Hate beats hope

Gofeminin On Kamala Harris' defeat against Donald Trump: Hate beats hope Article by Ann-Kathrin Schöll • 2 days • 3 minutes reading time I can't believe what I'm seeing. The map of the USA is red in places that should be blue. A wave of panic grips me, even though I'm thousands of kilometers away. I'm in my bed, my son is breathing calmly next to me. It's still dark outside, the cell phone display is emitting cold light. It feels like I'm being pulled downwards. A sob makes its way up. I try to suppress it, but I can't. My son opens his eyes. "What's wrong, Mom?" he asks in a sleepy voice. I turn to him and look into his eyes. It takes me a moment to get a grip on myself enough to speak. "The idiot won the election," I say in a choked voice. "Doofi" is our word for Donald Trump. We call him that because he said stupid things and did stupid things. I explained to my son that there are a lot of doofis in the world, but fortunately there are a lot more friendly people. Right now it feels like I lied to him. "Why did the doofi win?" asks my son. Something inside me is breaking. The childish part that until a few hours ago was firmly convinced that everything would be fine in the end. That hope would win against hate. "We are all standing in an infinitely large cemetery and burying hope" The "why" hurts. Donald Trump wins, probably mainly because he is a man. It doesn't matter what he does. It doesn't matter what he says. It doesn't matter who he hurts with his words and actions. He wins. My son doesn't understand that and I can't explain it to him. I feel a mixture of numbness, tiredness and fear. But the strongest feeling is sadness. My colleague Anne Heier from Edition F describes what many of us are feeling today very aptly: "We are all standing in an infinitely large cemetery and burying hope." Kamala Harris, the bearer of hope That's exactly how it feels. As if something had died. The hope in people's common sense. The hope that the rights of women and minorities are more important than gasoline prices. The hope in the power of truth. The hope that our children can grow up in an open, tolerant and free world. And the hope that in the end women will finally win. Today I mourn together with so many people - not just in the USA, but worldwide. We mourn for a brighter, more colorful and safer future for our children. The world feels heavy today and I don't know what will happen. What I do know, however, is that I will raise my son to be a friendly, tolerant and open person who can distinguish good from evil. Who knows that he is not automatically a better person just because he is a man. Who understands that actions have consequences. Today it feels like hope is dying. But I know it will survive. Hope is a fighter. Let's just give it some time to recover.