I Protested the Election of Trump and This Is What Happened

By Brittany Loeffler on November 10, 2016

The night of November 8 America held its breath while waiting to hear whom our new President-elect would be. I stayed up until 3 a.m. to hear that Donald J. Trump won the election. Sitting in bed, I was sick to my stomach.

By Michael Vadon – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51236080

I felt betrayed by my country. I felt betrayed by my friends and family who voted for him because when they voted for him they were not thinking about me, a woman who deserves rights to her own body and human rights in general.

All day Wednesday, the only thing that ran through my mind was, how could we let this happen?

The Aftershock

As I walked to class the next day my campus was close to silent. Students and professors walked with their heads down in shame and disappointment. The cold and rain added another layer to our depressed state.

I felt that there was nothing I could do, this was it, Trump was president and America is another business idea to play around with. My roommates and I sat together and mourned for our country. I wasn’t sure what could make me feel better about the outcome of this election.

Protest in Philadelphia

The one thing that made me feel better was participating in a peaceful protest in Philadelphia, expressing my anger along with one thousand other hurt people. My roommate and I went to City Hall where the group congregated and were surrounded by people who were feeling the same way I was. After chanting and presenting homemade signs, we took to Broad Street.

Philadelphia Police blocked off streets for us to walk down the busiest street in Philadelphia. We marched along chanting the newest hashtag #NotMyPresident and other phrases. Yelling these phrases with hundreds of other people felt like a weight coming off of my chest; I felt like I could breathe again.

The group walked along Broad Street to my college, Temple University. We stopped and protested on the corner of Cecil B Moore Avenue and Broad, waving to the students in their dorm windows looking down at us and to people on the street supporting us.

Relief

I’ve read the comments on social media and articles about the protest and heard comments about how we are just “sore losers” and we “need to get over it.” I know a protest will not change the outcome of the election, but for me, it made me feel relieved and better to know other people felt the same way.

While I was mourning for our country, this was my coping mechanism. Making my voice heard and expressing something I believe in. I believe in equality. I believe in human rights. I believe in global warming. I believe in love.

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