When Donald Trump won the 2016 election, I was 12. I remember my father saying he’d eat his hat and we’d all move up the border to Canada if it happened. I remember my mother’s worried face on election night as we watched it happen, and I remember my older sister crying when it did happen. 

At 12, I knew it was bad. I listened to the adults anxiously chatter about it, I heard the Hollywood tapes, and I saw the crass signs held up in pictures of Trump rallies. I understood Trump as vulgar and cruel, but I didn’t understand the real impact of a political leader perpetrating violence against women.

At 16 years old, I had a much better idea, but when President Joe Biden won the 2020 election, I thought the fear was over. 

At 20 years old, I’m a new kind of terrified. 

I’m scared because we cannot have a political leader who will again threaten climate reform at this critical point in the progression of climate change. 

I’m scared because I moved through grade school reading the names of kids my age murdered in mass shootings and still wake up from nightmares of my loved ones being the next names. 

I’m scared because I’m a person with a uterus who cannot raise a baby right now, and I’m a woman who does very much mind who touches me.

I’m scared of who may sit in the Supreme Court next, potentially appointed by our new president – an appointment that will long outlast four years of presidency.

And I’m scared because as the spread of mis- and disinformation has expanded, it’s also become abundantly clear how many people do not share my fears – maybe out of ignorance – and are willing to risk so much. 

I’m scared for my future, for the future of any children I’ll have and for generations after that. 

It’s not just Donald Trump’s policies I’m afraid of; it’s his character, his blunt meanness and his greed. I’m afraid of violence like Jan. 6, 2021, of putting an accused rapist and convicted felon in office, of his inflammatory, thoughtless comments broadcasted to thousands of followers.

There are a multitude of reasons voters, conservative or progressive, don’t like Kamala Harris, but that’s a reality typical of any election. 

If you don’t like Harris’ policies, you have still seen her act respectful, mature, kind and interested in furthering American democracy, as any person in power should be and as politicians of both parties have acted before. 

What should not be typical of any election is the fans that follow a man for his person, for stubborn team loyalty, not his ever-changing values. What should not be typical is saying despicable things and still maintaining such an important platform. 

Our nation is meant to compromise on party lines; it should never compromise democracy, empathy or humanity. 

American voters, if you could willingly tell your child after today – or tell any child who will deal with the consequences of a world the U.S. president will have the power to shape – that you put this man in the White House, or that you watched others do it, I worry for your heart. 

And if you can tell that child to be kind and compassionate throughout their life, after you listened to the cruel things he’s said time after time, and you compared those actions to Harris’ and you really – as hard as your little gears worked – couldn’t distinguish a difference, I worry for your mind.

And I hope your conscience is strong.

This election means so much, and today is our last chance. Vote.