It’s been two weeks since the election, and I am still feeling emotionally raw. I’m a 17-year-old high school student who had a lot riding on the outcome–women’s rights, immigration policies, student loans–but was several months shy of being able to vote.

I feel scared, and I’m not the only one. The Tribe Tribune contacted several students about their initial reactions to the election results, and their fears echoed my own. 

One junior shared that she worries her older sister will be deported. 

A freshman told me that if he were a parent, and his daughter were assaulted, he could not fathom forcing her to give birth.

I don’t know how to respond. How do you console people who have legitimate worries about the future? 

After Nov. 5, all I’ve felt is despair. 

When I came to school the day after the election my stomach was full of knots. In my English class, we discussed Langston Hughes’s poem “Let America Be America Again”, in which Hughes comments on the emptiness of the American Dream. 

Mr. Alvarez asked us if we thought the poem had any relevance today. With the election still fresh in my mind, the answer could not have been more obvious. 

My American Dream has been crushed. 

My classmates spoke in shaky voices— female peers expressing their deepened fears of sexual assault. Their right to choose might be taken away with a federal ban on abortion.  

My Latino peers were concerned for their families’ safety. Deportations are going to fracture millions of families. 

For second period I had IB Theater. 

Ms. Stickel allowed us the class period to grieve and decompress. Together my classmates and I huddled, letting the tears flow as we voiced our anxieties for the next four years. 

We are young people coming together despite our varied backgrounds and beliefs, united in our fear. 

I have said the word “fear” close to five times now. In case it was not clear, I am petrified. 

Over lunch some of my classmates vowed to delete their social media accounts, reluctant to doom scroll through a stream of bad news. Some viewed statistics about spikes in suicide during the election. 

This year’s election has profoundly affected me. 

I can’t believe my father can be deported. 

I can’t believe my right to love freely can be taken from me. 

I can’t believe that FAFSA, my only shot at affording college, can be snatched from me. 

How do we keep moving forward?

Somehow my peers–teens–have been able to come together during this time. We know the future is going to take work. Although change will not happen overnight, mobilizing our voices will help us get through these next four years. 

We can’t wait around for politicians to do this work for us.

I have to be courageous in order to ensure my father isn’t deported. 

I have to fight so my younger siblings don’t grow up believing a world without basic human rights is normal.

I urge my fellow students to join me in this effort. The only way to move forward is by taking action and standing boldly against injustice. 

Although we may be young, we are far from helpless.