Author: Olivia Gaibor (Student of the European Center for the Study of War and Peace, intern at the SOLIDARNA Foundation)
Before August of 2024, I had never traveled, much less lived, outside of the United States of America. Then I moved to study abroad in Croatia. Now, in two weeks exactly, I will return to live in the country in which I was born. Whether that country will be the home I remember is a question that will be answered within a matter of days, maybe even hours. It is also an answer I fear.
My family is as politically diverse as you can find. One relative of mine, for instance, has never voted and will never vote in any election of any kind. Not once in his over fifty years of life. He thinks the system is corrupt, and its members even worse, and he does not see the point in projecting his voice when he doubts it will be heard. The house of his partner’s parents is decorated in flags and lawn signs, advertising their support for one candidate famous for selling red hats, getting banned from social media platforms, and becoming a convicted felon. I declared as much to another relative of mine, two years my junior after he announced that his vote would be for Donald Trump, except now he’s changed his mind because his favorite athlete endorsed the opposite candidate (though he claims not to care either way). Other relatives repost photos and videos online advocating for such an opposite candidate, Kamala Harris. When their votes have been cast, they share pictures of themselves with red, white, and blue stickers that state I VOTED. Of course, however, this support is rarely vocalized when not behind a screen; it is simply too dangerous to discuss your views in public. Who knows which enthusiastic American could be listening?
My family—my parents, my grandparents, my siblings, my cousins—has never directly addressed our different political views. And we are far from being the only Americans whose loved ones support policies that threaten more loved ones or whose votes cancel each other’s outs. Sometimes, due to the nature of American politics dividing its people, it feels as though our last name is the only thing that unites us. But, in the end, the state we all live in has consistently voted blue for decades, so perhaps I should feel less guilty for not requesting a ballot to be mailed during my stay in Croatia.
Possibly, in the end, it will not matter that I missed participating in the first presidential election where I am eligible to vote, and perhaps the results will work in who I would have voted for favor. Hopefully, I will return home to my country’s first female president restoring her nation to one that protects the rights of women, does not promote nor permit violence, and promises to allow everyone to succeed, regardless of their economic status, gender, sexuality, and/or race.
I doubt either winner of the election will result in reuniting its people. Its outcome on the divisions in my own family is something I have no choice but to wait two weeks to discover—and then, of course, continue to observe throughout the next four years, assuming that this election’s results will not destroy the system entirely.
If they do not, then whether the promises of my preferred candidate will be fulfilled is another question in dire need of an answer, but—as is the common American phrase—a girl can dream.
Cover photo: Safwat Saleem for Fine Acts #SpringOfHope
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