“This is something that happens.” One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite films. Young Stanley in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia perfectly captures the theme this film explores: just when you are certain something is going to happen, something else intercepts your expectations. Since Tuesday night (wow, has it only been that long?), so many of us are in disbelief. Everything we knew about campaigns, polling and simply politics in general have been put to rest. And more questions have been raised about our country’s ideology than can possibly be answered. Even now, many of you reading this are already planning your Pro-Trump defense to my Anti-Trump rant. But I promise you, this won’t be a rant….for the most part. I have been contemplating this blog even before Trump was elected, and how I hope to best express my opinion. And then it dawned on me: how can a young, white, suburban male possibly make the rest of you feel safe?

This week I have seen an uproar among my friends unlike anything I have ever witnessed. Many are participating in protests all over the country. Almost all are posting depressing Facebook statuses about the decline of our country (no argument there). #notmypresident has exploded on social media. And regardless of your political affiliations, you should not argue with that. Donald Trump is not our President. But starting this January, he will be. We can sign petitions and attempt to persuade the electoral college. But if American history continues as it has, Trump will hold the highest office in the land. And yes, it is depressing as hell. Tuesday night I went to bed in tears, and woke up feeling the same amount of dread. There have been few mornings in my life as horrible as that one. But as I mentioned before, I am a white suburban male. I can only imagine how the Muslim-Americans, sexual assault survivors, individuals with disabilities, and any other demographic this man has insulted felt that morning. Wanting to distract myself, I checked my phone. I received a number of emails; two of them allowed me to truly open my eyes.

The first was from my grandpa. ‘Pop-Pop’ is an 80 year-old liberal, and his opinion on why Trump should not be President is one I greatly value. Pop-Pop’s email was not trashing what had happened, but instead begging us for something that, up until then, had not occurred to me. Since his election, a substantial number of Americans held Barack Obama to a deplorably low level. He was accused of being a number of things, from a Kenyan to the Antichrist. Trump himself led a smear campaign to prove Obama was not born in America. It was fueled by an astronomical vacuum of hate. Pop-Pop begged us not to succumb to the sort of hate that Trump and other Republicans legitimized. Many would argue that the hate for Trump is in opposition to bigotry, and the hate for Obama was brought on by bigotry. And while I feel this argument is valid, Pop-Pop’s idea that we do not have to fight back with such hatred really spoke to me…almost as much as the next email I opened.

My closest friends know that I have not been in a great place recently. I have been through a number of jobs, and have felt stuck. I took some time to figure out what I should be doing, and how I could live a more fulfilling life. It was one of my favorite people, my Aunt Laura, who suggested I start volunteering. Her suggestion was brilliant, as volunteering is something I have always regretted not doing more. Last Monday I reached out to a number of organizations, asking if I could help them out in different way. Wednesday morning a children’s hospital emailed me, saying they would love my support in different areas.

Last Wednesday quickly went from feeling like a death to feeling like a rebirth. So it pained me when I went on social media to find that while I was happy, almost everyone I know were defeated. And understandably so: many do your best to make a difference in this world. You nurse, you teach, and most of you did the same noble act: you voted in this election. And do not get me wrong, it is great that you voted; it is a really important dot to bubble in. But many (if not) most of you could do much more, including myself. I was reminded of one of my favorite lines from Richard Linklater’s Everybody Wants Some: “No one on their death bed regrets the things they’ve done; it’s those things they didn’t do.” Since my vote did not go further than my state, I have been preparing a way to help the community around me. If I cannot as effective as I was hoping to be in the political arena, I will do my best to be effective for the people who need it most.

I have no problem with those of you who are protesting, assuming it is peaceful. I have no problem with you complaining about the electoral college, as there is plenty to complain about. It’s true that Trump will probably enact policies most of you will heavily disagree with. What he cannot do is prevent us from making any difference at all. Trump ran his campaign to solve our country’s issues with hate. Basically he was (now is) trying to defeat hate with hate, which we have consistently criticized him for. So would it really make sense for us to defeat his hate with more hate? I was not going to mention my plans to volunteer, as I thought that would somewhat defeat the purpose of what I hope to accomplish. But now I bring to you all not factually-based recommendations, but an idea that I have had: let’s rise above Trump’s hatred, and perpetuate the love this country desperately needs right now. Let’s work to help those around us who cannot help themselves, which will in turn help ourselves. Let’s prove to ourselves and the rest of the world that we are not all defined by our politician(s), but by the care we can provide. For as we know, ‘When they go low, we go high.’