Post-Election Grief: How to Grapple with Monumental Political Change

Disclaimer: This article was written from the perspective of an American citizen, and a Canadian who has a lot of friends living in the United States. We understand that opinions may vary when it comes to the outcome of the 2024 election.

It was 11:00 p.m. on November 5, and each of the northern swing states were still too close to call. In a bid to preserve my mental health, I closed NBC’s coverage of the U.S. election and decided to go to bed. By that point, Trump had already secured North Carolina and Georgia. I knew that if Harris lost one of Michigan, Wisconsin, or Pennsylvania, she would be defeated. Still, the three blue-wall states were shaded in light blue on the electoral college map that I had opened, showing a Harris lead in all three. I texted my best friend saying, “She’s gonna win this, I can feel it.” The hope was palpable.

At 2:30 a.m., I woke up in a cold sweat. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and looked at the news. Lo and behold, Trump had won Pennsylvania. It was over.

The next morning, I considered staying home from school. I was completely and utterly devastated. I didn’t feel like getting out of bed. Although I managed to get to school in the end, it took an incredible amount of energy to keep myself from falling apart. At school, it became very clear who paid attention to the election and who didn’t—those who did catch each others’ teary eyes and exchanged, essentially, words of condolence. I dragged myself through the day, and that night, I went to bed at 8:30.

The tragedy of short-lived hope

The minute Joe Biden dropped out of the presidential race, we were enlightened with a new opportunity to defeat Trump. Kamala Harris’s campaign took advantage of Gen Z slang and pop culture to appeal to younger voters, and a Democrat victory felt certain.

This sentiment was solidified after Trump’s comically atrocious performance in September’s presidential debate. We all collectively fell for the deceptive rhetoric we had in 2016: there is no way that guy could win.

But just like he won in 2016, he won in 2024, and we learned the hard way that relying on the failures of our opponents does not warrant success.

While we grieve the outcome of the presidential election, we thought we’d share a few tips to anyone who might be struggling with political depression and anxiety.

Step 1: Allow yourself to feel whatever you’re feeling to the fullest extent

As a Canadian, I have had countless people ask me something along the lines of: “you’re not American, so why do you care?” This question, in all honesty, is completely ridiculous to me.

Why would I not care about something this significant, even though it doesn’t affect me directly? I have seen Trump-like ideology make its way to Canadian politics, and I am scared of its implications. Don’t be fooled: whatever happens down there can affect us up here.

I have many friends who live in the U.S. Some live in states like California and New York where they won’t feel the effects as profoundly, but some live in rural Appalachia and are already under attack by state-level abortion bans and anti-LGBTQ+ legislation. I care about what happens to them. Instead of bottling up your emotions, express exactly how you feel. Talk to your friends, your family, and anybody who will listen. Write about your worries; whether it be in your diary or the school newspaper. If you really need to, engage in productive political discourse–but don’t let it consume your time and your energy.

Ultimately, don’t let anybody make you feel stupid for caring about this election. You have a right to care, a right to be angry, and a right to voice your opinions.

Step 2: Stay educated

Even though most of us are likely not American citizens, we must remain wary of Trump’s somewhat fascistic tendencies. He has made it clear, through several of his actions, that he thinks he is above the law. Republican states will continue to ban books, and those who own much of our news and social media outlets have the power to manipulate the information we consume–the latter will affect us no matter what country we live in.

Even as Canadians, we can never take our education for granted. Read all the banned books. Understand your rights and your freedoms. Pay attention in history class and be able to recognize the early stages of authoritarianism.

We reiterate, if something is possible in the United States, it is possible in Canada. Freedom and democracy should never be taken for granted.

Step 3: Be mindful of the implications of a Trump presidency, but also be mindful of fear-mongering

Given Trump’s destructive and reactive leadership style, as well as his Project 2025 legislation plan, it is completely valid to be concerned. Many of us in the Branksome community have concerns about not just his domestic, but international policy, and fearing the impacts of his presidency on these issues is understandable.

At the same time, for our own sakes, we cannot lose hope or capitulate in the face of dangerous politicians. Instead, we need to work, connect, and communicate with others. Despite the message of unity that many Republicans like to propagate, Trump relies heavily on division for his success. The MAGA Republican’s “us v.s. them” ideology and political scapegoating are convenient tactics to cause fear among their supporters and get their votes–we must not fall for the same tricks.

While many on the Left are still playing the blame game with each other to try and determine why Harris lost the election, we believe that this is a waste. Instead, we believe that the incredibly divided Left should try and understand each other’s frustrations while organizing themselves at the same time.

There is always hope

Which is a platitude, we know. It is unfair to ask people to have hope, especially those who will be negatively affected by Trump’s policies, who have been told to have hope their entire lives. Still, we find comfort in the undying possibility of a better future. We’d like to close off with a quote we found by Trisha White Priebe: “People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”

Courtesy of Los Angeles Times