*This is an opinion article. The stances presented only represent those of the author, not of the Keynote staff nor of Keystone School.
I was 13 years old when my parents became U.S. citizens. Just as former President Biden stepped into office, days before Amanda Gorman spoke her poem for a worried world, my mother swore her oath to the United States of America, my father soon after. It brought an era of rejuvenation and excitement; the so-called American Dream had finally lived up to its expectations. Finally, we could travel as a family, flashing our American passports at the airport check in. They were safe: there was no way of removing them from the country they had learned to call home.
When the 2024 Presidential Debate between Joe Biden and Donald Trump occurred, I felt unsure, and confused. I didn’t know what would happen to our country, and if something happened, it probably wouldn’t be good. Politics felt like a dead end until Biden dropped out of the race and endorsed former Vice-President Kamala Harris. For the next four months, I was excited. Not only was there a chance that a woman could hold the highest office in the United States, there was a chance that the next US President could look like me. A woman in office, let alone a woman of color, seemed like a dream come true. I watched edits of Kamala Harris’s rallies, cheered on the mayor of San Antonio when he spoke at the Democratic National Convention, and pushed my hope into America, yearning for others to understand how monumental this new era of female presidency could be. I was certain that there was no way America, the land of opportunity and belief, could put a 34-count convicted felon who shouldn’t even be allowed to vote himself due to his crime, in office.
It turns out, I was wrong.
Just within the first week of his second term, President Donald Trump has completely changed the trajectory of the United States. There have been mass deportations of immigrants, and a declaration of only two genders: male and female, with the refusal of recognizing any other identities. The promoter of diversity and equality in Congress, who made sure that there was a woman for every certain amount of men, was just laid off by the Trump administration. Affirmative action is gone. A bill introduced in South Carolina sees that women who have abortions are charged with homicide. Reproductive rights are now “your body, my choice.” The American Dream that had earned my belief in our country’s democracy has eruupted. There is no telling what might happen next.
By the time the next presidential election rolls around, I will be 19 years old. I hope that there will be a woman on the ballot that year. I hope that I will be able to go to college and gain an education that promotes diversity and equality. I hope that I will be able to go to college at all. By 2028, I hope that I – and every woman in America – will have access to the reproductive health care we may need in the future. I hope that the bill that has been introduced allowing presidents who haven’t had consecutive terms to go on a third term has been vetoed by someone who cares about the state of America. I can wish for all of these things, but I have no guarantee that they will happen. I have no guarantee to rights on my body, no guarantee to a university degree, no guarantee to safety, or security as a woman or a person of color. Still, I implore you all to look at our democracy today and decide to help better it for future generations. This is our country, and it is our duty as people of it to do anything we can to save it.
After all, we can only hope.
