As I lay in my bed Wednesday morning, curled into a ball, body racked with sobs, I was afraid. Thousands of miles away in the country I love, something my constant optimism and belief in the good of people had never let me believe would happen, happened. I cried for the friends I have made here, who’s ethnicity and identity are now even more threatened and marginalized in my home country. I cried with fear for what would happen to the international political community, something I’ve spent the last three months immersing myself in learning about. I cried for women and Muslims and Latinos and African Americans and the LBGTQ community, for everyone who felt that their country had voted against their own identity and the value of their own life.
But I also cried out of guilt. Anger at myself. Throughout the majority of the 2016 election, I was very politically active. I wrote articles, went to rallies, attended seminars, engaged in productive debates with my classmates. I kept myself educated on all of the current events, interned with government officials to learn more about the function of my government, and shared the opportunities I have had to gain a global perspective. It wasn’t everything I could do, but it was something.
But since I came abroad, I pulled away from my political activism. I immersed myself in Hungary, making friends, learning about the culture, and soaking in every bit of knowledge I could. I made it my goal to be as present in every moment as possible. I didn’t want to spend my semester abroad with my body in Europe but my mind stuck in the US and our political system. I didn’t stay up to date with US politics because I felt they distracted me. I didn’t write articles, I didn’t share my opinions, and I sure didn’t do any activism for the US.
Now the day comes, and the unthinkable happens. My country proves to be even more divided than I believed, more frustrated with their lot, and more willing to sacrifice civil and human rights of their neighbors in a chance for financial security than I estimated. As I lay in my bed consumed with shock and sadness, I couldn’t help but wonder what more I could have done. Maybe if I hadn’t pulled away, if I hadn’t detached, I could have helped people realize the depth of the decision they were making before it would have such lasting impact. I was selfish, thinking of my own experiences ahead of the future of my country. The future of the world I live in. Throughout the day, as each new wave of sadness hit me, as each new realization of the reality of what happened occurred to me, my sadness was accompanied by guilt. As a global citizen it is my responsibility to take every opportunity I have and use it to make the world a better place. I realized that I hadn’t done that enough. I had shirked my responsibilities in the name of being young and selfish.
After a day of sadness and crying, I woke up Thursday morning with a new feeling. I felt driven, like I knew what I needed to do and how I needed to do it. While I have been in Hungary, I’ve been volunteering at a local high school once a week, speaking English with the students and sharing the differences of our two cultures with one another. Usually the conversations are light, based around how we celebrate different holidays, how we dress, and stereotypes of our countries. But this week I knew it needed to be different. I had an opportunity in front of me and I was not about to waste it. In the words of Nelson Mandela, “Education is the most powerful tool we can use to change the world,” and it was time for me to use that tool.
I emailed back and forth with the teachers at the school, asking about guidelines and what would be best for me to discuss with the students that week. With the seventh grade class I work with, we settled on discussing the political process in the US. I created a lesson explaining the two political parties, the electoral college, the voting process, and the stances of this years’ main two candidates. I was inspired by how interested the students were, asking me questions about the legitimacy of democracy, and discussing their concerns with the negative rhetoric that has surrounded this campaign. I left the two lessons feeling a sense of optimism I hadn’t felt in the past week, a feeling that if our future generation was this globally involved and informed, then our future is not as bleak as my darkest thoughts had been trying to convince me.
The next lesson I had was with 16 and 17 year old students, who were already informed on the political process. They instead asked a friend and I specific questions about the outcome of the election, US policy, and the future of our country. It was at times difficult to discuss, specifically the reasons why I am personally afraid and concerned. But it was important. Important to sit in another country with students and discuss our personal feelings about the election. Important to create that dialogue, specifically in a country currently run by a populist leader who holds complete power over the parliament and has vocally supported the US president-elect. We shared experiences, fears, and questions.
One of the teachers whose class I worked with brought me in a special chocolate bar. She told me it was the only chocolate bar available in Hungary during the communist era that she grew up in, and therefore her favorite as a child. She brought it to me because, “Growing up, she would eat it when she was sad about her government and the politics of her country, and she hoped it brought me the same sense of comfort.” She then reminded me of the importance of the power of the people, of my power as an individual, and the power of education.
The next day I returned to the school, again to work with students, this time a new class I had never worked with before. Accompanied by my roommate, we answered the students questions about the protests, about racism in the US, and the way misogyny affected the outcome of the election. In all of the classes, the students were at first unsure how the election in the US would have impact on their lives. However, as we communicated with one another, I watched them grasp the global impact the US has, and the ways the effects of this election will be felt around the world. I watched them empathize with me and my country, and well as create new ideas and perspectives on their own.
This was merely one small step in the right direction. I may have impacted a handful of students in a small country across the ocean from the US, but I am well aware that the work that needs to be done in my country, as well as around the world, far exceeds this. However, it was a step in the right direction, a step toward fostering the communication and global understanding that we apparently so desperately need. It was a step toward making me feel less helpless and powerless while I am geographically so far away. Most of all, it was a lesson that no matter where we are in the world, that we can start working to make a difference, and start tackling the problems that led to the president-elect being voted into office.