Election 2024 – Hope for Better is All I’ve Got
It’s the morning after, and I am filled with sadness, anger, and an overwhelming sense of fear for our future. This election feels like a bitter reminder of just how divided our country remains—and of the monumental work that still lies ahead. Donald Trump, despite one of the lowest favorability ratings in history, has won, buoyed by a coalition driven by economic frustration, anger, and misplaced blame.
Many voters, feeling anxious and insecure about their financial futures, turned to him as if he was their last hope. The perception that the economy is in crisis under Democratic leadership is one that has been carefully constructed, even though inflation began rising during Trump’s own administration. But in the end, these voters chose Trump, swayed by Republicans’ relentless messaging on the economy and public safety—a message that, frankly, outshone that of the Democrats.
One of the most frustrating aspects of this election has been watching Republicans continuously out-message Democrats. The GOP has mastered the art of stirring up fear and resentment, delivering simple but powerful narratives that resonate deeply. Instead of speaking to unity and progress, they speak directly to anxieties and frustrations, offering voters someone to blame for every challenge and setback. This “us versus them” mentality has been highly effective, painting a picture of Democrats as the root of all economic and social woes. They’ve created a narrative that encourages a large swath of Americans to focus their anger not on constructive solutions but on vilifying others—immigrants, LGBTQ+ people, and anyone who doesn’t fit their narrow vision of what America should be.
This time around, Latino men once again broke heavily for Trump, just as they did in 2016. It’s a trend that continues to puzzle and distress many progressives. Latino men are not a monolithic group, and Trump’s appeal among them reflects the complexity of their voting motivations. Trump’s “tough guy” persona, his emphasis on “law and order,” and his promises of economic strength have clearly resonated with a portion of this demographic. Many seem drawn to his hyper-masculine rhetoric, equating it with strength and security, even when his policies actively harm their communities. It’s a painful reminder that even those of us with shared histories of discrimination aren’t immune to the lure of simplistic, divisive messaging.
It’s heartbreaking that so many people cast their votes based on the fears Trump skillfully stoked while overlooking the very real harm he has inflicted and the dangers he poses to democracy, equality, and human rights. In a society increasingly defined by its divisions, this outcome shows that people are desperate for someone to blame. Many feel left behind, adrift in an uncertain economy, and they’ve been led to believe that the answer lies in nationalism, in closing ranks, and in shutting down anyone who questions that worldview. LGBTQ Nation recently discussed how Trump’s supporters are confusing “patriotism” with “nationalism.” True patriotism unites and invites dialogue; Trump’s brand of nationalism, however, shuts down dissent and demands a blind loyalty that weakens our country’s democratic foundation.
Today, I sit with my grief, my frustration, and my fears for the future. As Rev. Dr. Mark Sandlin reminds us, “Your grief means you care. Your anger is rooted in a righteous place. Your tears ultimately make way for hope.” In moments like this, we must allow ourselves to feel the full weight of that grief and anger. These emotions are born out of love for a better, more just society and our hope for a future where everyone is valued equally. These feelings are not a reason to give up but a call to rise with renewed resolve. That’s hard to think about today, but tomorrow, we must rally. We must reclaim the narrative, offering people a vision not based on scapegoating or resentment but on empathy and inclusivity. Many people who voted for Trump did so not out of love for him, but because they felt they had no other choice.
Our hope rests in each other. We have a community that grieves alongside us today, and in that collective sorrow lies the foundation for tomorrow’s resistance. Today, we mourn this setback. But tomorrow, we regroup and push forward, knowing that this work is too important to abandon. We must stand together, countering hate with hope, blame with accountability, and division with unity. Because giving up is not an option.
