As an undocumented immigrant benefiting from deferred action from deportation, I despaired the night Trump won. The nation seemed to have been hijacked by the forces of darkness. It felt like a giant step backwards, not only for the United States, but for the entire world.

The undocumented know the potential devastation the Trump administration can cause – and with yesterday’s memorandums from the Department of Homeland Security, never has our community been under greater threat. We know there is a real risk that our families might be torn apart, or that we might be deported to a place we don’t know.

Fear is a deep sickness. Like a parasite, it controls the mind and disrupts our inner peace. But we cannot let fear consume us. The goal of these enforcement measures is to terrify our undocumented immigrant population and there is only one way to mitigate that satisfaction – and that is to organize. Where there is support, we must organize resistance – we must find it and join it.

If you are someone at risk, start talking to supporters in your community or find an immigrant-friendly institution, such as a Catholic church sanctuary, and talk to them. It’s imperative for us as undocumented immigrants to connect with these support systems. We must also ally with our brothers and sisters of different backgrounds, different faiths, and color and be in solidarity with their struggles too – it makes us stronger to share love, wisdom and compassion with one another.

Of course, I recognize that there are parts of the country where there is strong anti-immigrant sentiment and there is no reason to expose yourself unnecessarily if you are undocumented. It’s probably best to keep a low profile in these places where there is no sense of protection – there, it is only a question of getting by day to day.

But, the greater the resistance, as in cities like New York, Chicago and Los Angeles, the harder the deportation. Bullies back down when there’s a lot of people pushing – they prefer easy targets. There has never before been a greater need for our white and black allies, our brothers and sisters in solidarity, to come out. Now is the time to ask the question: where do you stand? You have to be present. Our allies must recognize that every time they stand up for us, they stand up for the millions of undocumented immigrants and refugees across the world that feel voiceless and powerless.

We have much to learn from the gay rights movement. Marriage equality was possible because everyone has someone in their family or has a friend that identifies as queer. The main lesson to learn from the movement was that the power of love overcame that of hate. People began speaking out on the morality of the issue and how there is no limit to love. We need to talk about our undocumented loved ones in the very same way. ­­

Back in 2010, I took a 1,500-mile walk to the nation’s capital with three fellow activists to demand executive action for undocumented youth and to share our immigrant stories. We changed many minds and hearts through that journey. Our hard work paid off when Obama signed the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (Daca) policy in 2012.

In addition to losing the fear of being undocumented during the walk, I also learned a valuable lesson on identity – that what defines me is not found in my immigration papers. I am first and foremost a human being, and no government has the right to deny me – or any one of us – the dignity that we all deserve as people. I know that, as someone with a college degree, who was raised in the United States for most of his life, and who still has temporary status under Daca, I am among the more privileged immigrants. That currently puts me a position where I can continue advocating for undocumented immigrants in my community.

Through a platform of unity and mutual respect, we will reject the politics of hate and division. In the spirit of Dr King: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”