I woke up way earlier than usual this morning, to check my phone, and feel, in a way I have never felt before, heartbroken, disappointed, and straight up angry. I couldn’t focus at all on the quantitative analysis I was planning to get done this morning, so I thought I would write – people seem to like writing their stories, and maybe, if I get this all out in writing, it will calm my mind for a second. Some say it’s therapeutic; maybe it’s narcissistic; whatever it is, I’m desperate at this point. I’m in no way a writer, and often struggle to express my thoughts and feelings coherently—despite the meaning of my name, I often struggle to be eloquent. so if you’re looking for inspiration, maybe stop reading now.

As it has already been said by many, the results of last night’s elections display the results of fear and hatred. When, despite Clinton’s superior experience over Trump, her comparative over-preparedness for debates and policies, and despite Trump’s sexist, racist, and hateful rhetoric, he is still elected, it cannot be said that the results don’t reflect hatred, fear, and white supremacy. Trump ran a campaign on instilling, and re-igniting a fear of difference – in wanting to “make America great again”, he showed his desire to return to a past time (hence again) –  where much of the current progress did not exist, and difference was not accepted. He was able to reach out to a population with quietly hidden, at times politely covered fear and judgement, and to turn their apprehension of a different, more progressive view, into a monster to be destroyed. My friend Sarah, with her often punny remarks keeps saying “love trumps hate”. Sarah, I agree. But love needs to come once we are willing to fully accept the hatred that we may harbour, and the fears that result from it.

Here’s my story:

At 9 years old I was bullied, mocked and made fun of, for looking different. You can imagine what it’s like, trying to learn a new language, get used to new surroundings and way of life, trying to understand what on Earth this green vegetable that to you looks like a bush and a brain they call broccoli is, and all the while having to see, day after day, kids snicker, point and laugh at the way you look.  It was at this point that I learned my best coping mechanism: do whatever it takes to fit in. Hey, one skill I can proudly say I have, is the ability to learn quickly. So that’s what I did – I learned the proper English accent, I learned which shows to watch, what music to listen to, how to dress, and how to be in order to fit in. If I wasn’t going to look exactly like them, I sure as hell wasn’t going to be different in any other wrong ways—yes, I was going to be the best in my academics, to prove that my looks weren’t a reflection of my intelligence. Yes, I was going to take leadership opportunities and fight for the things I believed in, to prove, that I was worthy. Worthy of what? I’m not sure anymore – but I think it was acceptance. And so it went – it became about being unique, standing out, but not being different. (I told you this rambling might make no sense).

We’re exposed, from the minute we are born, to difference. It’s something unavoidable, and it’s what makes our world so damn exciting. But I think the problem stems from where we learn not to accept difference, but to judge it, to fear it, and to steer away from it. Rather than seeing difference as ordinary, exciting, acceptable (as Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie says), we see difference as something that should be fixed.

I’ve been spending the past year doing a lot of internal reflecting; trying to figure out the extent to which all of this has affected me, the way I function, the way I see the world, and the pressures I put on myself. It has been surprisingly difficult to realize how much fear has controlled a majority of my life – fear of failure, fear of judgement, fear of the unknown. It has driven me to points of emotional, physical and mental exhaustion, and coming to terms with that has not been easy; it’s a daily process of undoing the way I’ve become programmed to react to everything by trying to fit it into the neat boxes of what I define as right, and accepting the possibility of difference. Accepting the potential different ways of life, what shades of grey, rather than my black and white views, exist.

I get a lot of raised eyebrows and eye-rolls whenever I say that Canada is not as great a multicultural nation as people claim it to be. Yes, we are a nation of immigrants; we tolerate and live with our niehgbours. But what we need is to move past simply tolerating our differences, to accepting them. A friend and I were recently discussing the novel “Americanah” and she exclaimed how easy it was for her to relate to the main character’s experiences, based on her own experiences of living in Canada. We laughed over the distance she has to go to how find a salon that can deal with her hair, or for me to find a decent threading spot. These are tiny examples, of what challenges we face to having a fully accepting, multicultural nation – if, when talking about the citizens or leaders, we still cannot imagine a wide array of faces and backgrounds, or have a specific image of what a true “Canadian” or “American” must look like, then we are still stuck in our past ways. We are still allowing difference to define our world. 

This rant has gone on for much longer than I expected. But it is no longer possible to deny the deeply rooted sexism, racism, and fear that exists around us. Sarah, I am behind you when you say love will trump hatred. But only when we are all willing to take the excruciatingly difficult journey of reflecting on the hatred and fear we all harbour. Acknowledging the way we have come to view the world, and anything in it that differs from what we are used to. Understanding, and acknowledging our own privilege; that we will never be able to fully understand the experiences of others, because we are not exposed to the same obstacles and treatment that they are. Realizing that acceptance, not tolerance is necessary to move forward, and finding direct and effective ways of changing the way we learn to view and engage with difference.

Let’s take some time, let this settle in, and find the way to move forward. Together. Past fear. Toward progressive and positive change.