Dear America

Dear America,

On November 5th, 2024, two days before my 13th birthday, I woke up with a stomach full of hope. And full of fear. I hoped that tomorrow my country would have chosen the first woman president. That I might get to see myself in our countries highest office. I feared that the man who had caused so much chaos, Cheeto man, would get four more years to cause more.

On November 5th, 2024, two days before my 13th birthday, you made a very, very dangerous choice. You chose to elect a

• Fascist
• Racist
• Rapist
• Sexist
• Convicted Felon
• Liar
• Coward
• And finally, sore loser

as the President of our United States of America. I am here to tell you why that was the wrong choice. 

To every woman who chose Trump, you just forfeited your right to an abortion, might I add, not because Trump is against it, but because he wants to please his party. More importantly, you forfeited your right to respect. You placed your country into the hands of someone who wants to “grab em’ by the pussy.”

To every latino and black person who chose Trump, you risk deportation of people in your community. Trump doesn’t want those people to have a chance. They deserve a chance at a better life. They are taking nothing from American people and they are a large part of our lower class. They do the jobs others don’t want to. Trump doesn’t respect you any more than he does women. 

To every single person who chose Trump, I think you’re scared. You’re scared of a powerful, Black woman. And that, America, that is really, really heartbreaking. So I hope you know that today, you broke my heart. You chose whatever you see in Donald Trump over your daughters, wives, mothers, and sisters. Before your black and latino neighbors. You chose his messages of hatred towards everyone who disagreed with him. You chose his divisiveness. You chose his cowardliness and his fear. My teenage years are going to be marred by the choice you made. You made that choice for me. I can’t vote. I hope one day, when you see just how bad of a choice you made, you’ll apologize. 

Signed,

Bibi Miotke