Dear Mom,

I’ve said it before, and unfortunately I think I’ll say it again, times like this make me grateful that you’re not here. I find comfort in the fact that you don’t have to feel the way that so many of us do right now.

Yesterday I woke up with a deep sadness that never fully went away. The day after millions of people voted for the first woman Presidential nominee, we awoke to find that she didn’t win the election. Instead, Donald Trump was elected. Despite Hillary’s narrow win with the popular vote, Donald won via the Electoral College. Sound familiar?

I’ve mentioned to you before that Donald was running, but you don’t know the impact that this could have on our country. Sadly, none of us know the true effect this could have on the millions of people of the United States who are currently terrified of the future.

This isn’t Bush vs. Gore. That was difficult but we did get through it. Bush wasn’t our candidate but he became our President, and although we could find many complaints about him, he really wasn’t that bad. And I NEVER thought I would say those words.

Bush didn’t threaten the safety of millions of citizens. Not like this. He didn’t promise to undo all that had been done in the Administration before him. He didn’t promise to build a wall along our Southern border to keep Mexicans out. He didn’t promise to repeal our healthcare system, ignoring all of the good it has brought, because it isn’t perfect yet.

Donald has made big, bold promises during this election. Some of them are truly frightening. And my biggest fear is that, due to the Republican control of the House and Senate, no one will stop him.

Human rights are in jeopardy. The rights of the LGBTQ community are threatened. The rights of immigrants are threatened. The rights of women are threatened. The rights of Muslims are threatened. All minorities are scared. He hasn’t directly threatened Jews, but I’m still scared. The KKK and Neo-Nazis support him. Trump might not hate me, but some of his supporters do.

So many of us are threatened and it’s very scary.

Yesterday I mourned. I mourned the loss of a great amount of hope that I held just a day earlier. I mourned the missed opportunity to be able to tell my daughter one day that I voted for the first woman President and she won. I cried for my fellow citizens who are more threatened than me. I cried for Hillary, whom I believe would have been an excellent President, not because she’s a woman, but because she’s a brilliant, educated, experienced, kind, loving, and hopeful fighter. I cried for the little girls out there who were inspired by how close a woman got to the White House, only to see her lose and to see hate win.

It was a sad day for a lot of us.

But, just like when I mourned your loss, I couldn’t let my sadness consume me. Loss is challenging. It’s ugly and frustrating and can cause people to plunge into a darkness that can strip them of their hope and their positivity.

I won’t let that happen. I can’t let that happen.

I can’t let this become a bad example for my daughter. I don’t want her to grow up and learn about this time in our history and see it as a big loss for women. I don’t want her to know this as the furthest a woman could go. I don’t want her to think that she can try to do anything, and can get close, but probably won’t make it all the way. Yes, history was made by there being the first ever woman Presidential nominee, but that is not enough.

Instead of seeing this as a loss I see it as an opportunity. Now that us women know that it is possible, it is time for more of us to try. All of us women sitting around today, disappointed, angry, sad and frustrated that we didn’t get what we believe we deserved, we can’t let that be the end of our story. Women have fought in the past for their rights and the rights of others. We are strong and resilient. We can turn these negative feelings into a great amount of positive energy. Instead of lying around crying, let’s stand up and fight.

I’m happy that you’re not here to experience the pain of this sort of a setback for our country, however, I know exactly how you would have reacted if you were here. You would be fighting to keep our rights. You, who lived in an interracial dorm while in college in Southern Illinois in the 1960’s, who experienced hatred in the form of the KKK burning a cross on the dorm’s lawn. You, the mother of a disabled child who fought for his rights when he was a kid, who was his constant advocate and who forced the Chicago Board of Education to follow the laws and to provide only the best for your son. You, a mother who planned a Bar Mitzvah for your disabled son because he was entitled to one, even if he had no awareness of what that meant. You, who fought and convinced the school system to allow me to continue with my speech therapy sessions during the summer break.

You never let anyone take advantage of your children. You taught your children that they could work toward any goals they desired. That through hard work and dedication your children could do anything. I am incredibly lucky to be one of those children and I will not sit down and do nothing. This is the time for people like me to take the necessary steps to bring change. The best way to teach my daughter that she can do anything and that no once can hold her back is to do exactly what you did, to lead by example.

Yesterday was sad. A lot of us were in mourning. Today we stand up and prepare to fight for our rights. We don’t wait until tomorrow. Today is still our day. Today we lead by example.

I love you, Mom.

Rachel