Twenty-five years ago, countries around the world enshrined new rights for women and girls. But rights are nothing without the power to claim them.

This article appears in the October 2020 print edition of The Atlantic with the headline “Power Shortage.”

Giving speeches was not usually a problem for me, but a lot was riding on this one, and I had a genuine case of nerves as I took the stage. Before me were 1,500 delegates, mainly women, of every race and ethnicity, who had traveled to Beijing for the United Nations Fourth World Conference on Women. What they all had in common in that moment was a daunting impassivity.

It was September 5, 1995. I had spent weeks writing and rewriting my speech. I wanted it to be bold, accessible, and unambiguous. I also thought hard about getting the delivery right. Women are often criticized if we show too much emotion in public, and I wanted to make sure my tone didn’t obscure the message. …

George Floyd’s life mattered. Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor’s lives mattered. Black lives matter.

Against a backdrop of a pandemic that has disproportionately ravaged communities of color, we are being painfully reminded right now that we are long overdue for honest reckoning and meaningful action to dismantle systemic racism.

If you’re in a place to give, donate today to support groups working to end systemic racial injustice, increase the elected representation of Black people, and fight Republican efforts to suppress Black votes.

Through their Education Fund, the Collective is working to recruit, train, and fund Black judicial, prosecutorial and attorney general candidates to ensure more representative leaders for the criminal justice system. Color of Change is a national online force dedicated to holding corporations and elected leaders accountable in the fight to end practices and systems that unfairly hold Black people back. Higher Heights supports the Black women’s leadership pipeline. …

Our democratic institutions and traditions are under siege. We need to do everything we can to fight back.

It’s been nearly two years since Donald Trump won enough Electoral College votes to become president of the United States. On the day after, in my concession speech, I said, “We owe him an open mind and the chance to lead.” I hoped that my fears for our future were overblown.

They were not.

In the roughly 21 months since he took the oath of office, Trump has sunk far below the already-low bar he set for himself in his ugly campaign. Exhibit A is the unspeakable cruelty that his administration has inflicted on undocumented families arriving at the border, including separating children, some as young as eight months, from their parents. According to The New York Times, the administration continues to detain 12,800 children right now, despite all the outcry and court orders. Then there’s the president’s monstrous neglect of Puerto Rico: After Hurricane Maria ravaged the island, his administration barely responded. Some 3,000 Americans died. Now Trump flatly denies those deaths were caused by the storm. …

Plenty of words come to mind when I think about 2017. And if you want to know my unfiltered thoughts on “emails,” “fake news,” “sexism,” or “Russia,” I’ve written about each of those topics at length in my book. (As well as “bully,” “demagogue,” and “creep”!) But when I step back and reflect on the last twelve months — the people I’ve met, the stories I’ve heard, the activism and organizing I’ve been proud to support — there’s no shortage of uplifting, encouraging words that capture the spirit of this year. It’s difficult to pick just one.

Resilience was among the first to pop into my head. It’s a word that has meant a lot to me throughout my life, and it’s taken on new meaning in 2017. Resilience doesn’t mean you never get knocked down; it means you get back up when you do. I’ll admit, there were times over the past year when I was tempted to just pull the covers up over my head and shut it all out. Instead, I got back up. At first, I spent time with family and friends, watched HGTV and went into a frenzy of organizing every closet and drawer in my house, did some yoga, and practiced something called “alternate nostril breathing.” I went for long walks in the woods. And yes, I had my fair share of chardonnay. …

Last night, I congratulated Donald Trump and offered to work with him on behalf of our country. I hope that he will be a successful president for all Americans.

This is not the outcome we wanted or we worked so hard for, and I’m sorry we did not win this election for the values we share and the vision we hold for our country.

But I feel pride and gratitude for this wonderful campaign that we built together—this vast, diverse, creative, unruly, energized campaign. …

We are truly stronger together.

At the beginning of this campaign, we gathered on Roosevelt Island, pledging to protect the progress we’ve made and explaining our vision for a stronger, fairer future.

It’s hard to believe that tomorrow, a year and a half later, America will finally begin its next chapter with a new president-elect.

I want to thank all the people across the country who’ve taken the time to talk to me during this journey. I’ve learned so much from your stories — about the challenges families are facing and the promises we have yet to fulfill.

I’ve met too many families who are living paycheck to paycheck, one illness or setback away from losing everything they’ve worked for. I’ve visited communities ravaged by drug addiction and heard from the doctors and social workers doing everything they can to save lives. I’ve talked to bright young DREAMers who worry their families will be torn apart. And I’ve gotten to know a remarkable group of mothers who’ve lost children to gun violence and have turned their grief into action. …

Last June, I was on a swing through California when I had the opportunity to do a small town hall in Los Angeles. Those are actually my favorite kinds of events. Big rallies are exciting, but I much prefer having conversations with people — hearing directly from them about what’s on their minds, then working together to think through what solutions might (or should) be available.

That night in L.A., I met a young woman named Chrissy Chambers, who went through an awful ordeal. Her ex-boyfriend secretly taped himself sexually assaulting her. After they broke up, he posted the video online without her permission or knowledge on more than 30 pornography sites. She said that the experience made her feel like she’d been “stripped of her dignity.” …

At the debate on Sunday, I mentioned a brave little boy named Felix, whose mom wrote to me this summer.

Her letter moved me so deeply that I wanted to take a moment to tell you his story.

Felix was born in rural southern Ethiopia, and he was adopted and brought to the U.S. in 2006. He’s been a citizen for nearly a decade now—almost his entire life—but this year, he’s become terrified that he’ll be kicked out of the country, separated from his parents, and sent the roughly 7,500 miles back to Ethiopia if my opponent gets elected president.

His mother wrote that her son was “genuinely frightened.” …