In the weeks leading up to Nov. 8, 2016, I felt a vague sense of dread. Maybe vague is the wrong word. Omnipresent is more accurate. Despite all the people I know who denounced Trump, despite all the articles posted on Facebook explaining why he was the wrong choice, despite the growing excitement around electing the first woman president, I felt, in the back of my chest, that we were all wrong and that Trump would win.

And he did.

The wound is so fresh. Less than 16 hours old. I have not even begun to come to terms with it. Yesterday I was giddy with excitement, taking my two daughters to the poles to witness history. Today I watched my daughter’s face crumple when I told her the results, watched her come to terms with this reality, watched the fear grow on her face as she worried about whether her Mexican classmate would be able to continue to attend her school.

But in these past few weeks, even as that feeling of dread grew, so did my resolve to not stand by and watch history unfold. I am not going to sit on the sidelines, a well-behaved woman. I am going to be loud, I am going to march, I am going to make this world a better place.

I don’t have a plan yet. I have lots of ideas bouncing around my head. And I’m trying to capture them in an effort to fight back the waves of depression when they come.

I am trying to find a way to use my talents for the cause. I can write. I can research. I can learn. I can pull ideas together and explain and present them and help others to understand.

I don’t know exactly what shape this will take. Some ideas:

1. Data security, Signal and other ways to encrypt your life
2. Legislative updates and breakdowns and explanations: How will what our elected officials do impact our daily lives?
3. Maker/Homesteading skills: Tutorials and ideas to do for yourself
4. Acts of kindness, love, and heroism: finding things to celebrate in every day life
5. Local community: Make a difference on a grassroots level

The election is lost, but the fight has just begun.