I remember the day after Trump’s first election. It was the first election that captured my attention; the first time mainstream politics trickled into my life. I sat glued to the TV screen that night, my twelve-year-old heart not pulled in any particular direction. But the next day, when I went to school, the sky was overcast. Low clouds hung heavy over my home state of Mississippi, and a small voice spoke to me with ominous words: Nothing would ever be the same again.
In the coming days and months, my intuition came alive. In keeping with his preposterous campaign promises, Trump instituted a ban denying citizens from several Muslim majority countries, triggered a 2018 government shutdown by demanding federal funding for a border wall and left the nation on the brink of nuclear war for several days by escalating tensions with Iran.
These early indications of disastrous policy paled in comparison to his moral conduct later in his presidency: he was impeached twice, once because he attempted to pressure Ukraine into launching an investigation against Biden and again, as his callous words incited an insurrection against the just and peaceful transition of administrations.
Time and time again, Trump has proved that he is morally and intellectually unfit for the highest position of power in the United States. And today, in the early hours of Wednesday morning, he coasted to victory. What was supposed to be a fraught and tense battle extending over multiple days concluded quickly as Trump took key swing states, including Pennsylvania, Wisconsin and Michigan. The doomful conclusion was clear to me before I went to bed that night, but I coaxed myself into believing a miracle was possible.
The day after, I woke up with a sickness in my stomach. The whole day, I walked around with my heart sinking to my feet.
Because, you see, this reality in which Trump was reelected was inconceivable to me. It was inconceivable that my fellow citizens would choose a man who had repeatedly disgraced women, people of color, immigrants, people with disabilities and so many more.
The mark of a capable leader is not one who exults in their power over those who are socially and systemically weaker than them but one who works actively to lift such individuals up through policies that chip away at biased institutions.
But now this is my awful reality. This is our awful reality in which our chosen leader mocks reporters with disabilities and boasts about sexually assaulting women. And in his policies, he acts upon his character.
Today, I read Project 2025, a political mandate published by the conservative think tank, The Heritage Foundation. Although the document has not been explicitly endorsed by former President Trump and the Trump campaign has worked to distance itself from its pillars, its tenets offer a glimpse into what kinds of policies may be enacted in a second Trump term. In fact, "a line by line review by CBS News identified 270 proposals in Project 2025’s published blueprint for the next Republican president that match Trump’s past policies and current campaign promises."
Some of these policies are in keeping with the typical conservative agenda: “less federal intervention in education and more support for school choice; work requirements for able-bodied, childless adults on food stamps; and a secure border with increased enforcement of immigration laws, mass deportations and construction of a border wall.”
But others present a dark and dystopian reality evocative of "The Handmaid’s Tale." Project 2025 calls for the FDA to "reverse its 24-year old approval of the widely used abortion pill mifepristone.” Additionally, “the policy book also recommends the Justice Department enforce the Comstock Act [an] 1873 law [that] prohibits drugs, medicines, or instruments used in abortions from being sent through the mail."
Anti-reproductive health laws only scratch the surface of the contents of Project 2025. Its agenda "not only recommends finishing the wall along the US-Mexico border, but urges the next administration to 'take a creative and aggressive approach' to responding to drug cartels at the border."
In 2024, these are the ideals the American democracy has voted for. Rational explanations abound: Kamala Harris’ association with Biden and his poorly rated policies, historic inflation rates and a surprising underperformance among Black and Latino voters.
But every one of them pales in comparison to the raw truth: American democracy has spoken, and it has shown how a majority of Americans voted in accordance with interests that seemed to personally benefit them, while opening the floodgate for policies that would jeopardize the liberties of their fellow citizens. A love for a freedom that is only limited to you and your few is not a love for freedom at all; it is an affection for privilege.
Yet, like the light slipping through the cracks between the clouds today, there remains hope. And the momentum amassed by the Harris campaign in such a short period of time serves as a testament to that hope.
This fight for our rights is far from over; in fact, it has just begun. Now more than ever, it remains vital to remain an active participant in our democracy, casting votes in local elections and continuing to elevate our voices over a presidential regime that attempts to silence them through acts of quiet defiance, like my writing this article.
There’s a lot about this election that is reminiscent of Trump’s defeat of Hillary Clinton in 2016: his victory in crucial swing states, his victory over a woman and his maintenance of a lead throughout election night.
But one thing is crucially different: We’ve been through this before. We know what’s coming. We know what we’re up against.
And this time, though our hearts shrink in terror, we are ready.
Advikaa Anand is a Trinity junior. Her columns typically run on alternating Tuesdays.
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Advikaa Anand is a Trinity sophomore and an opinion managing editor of The Chronicle's 119th volume.