Do not ask me to yield. Do not ask me to fold.

I woke up Wednesday morning and realized it wasn’t a nightmare. America had spoken and she had turned her back on me. She told me the color of my skin is ugly; she told me the very little Spanish that I speak is all she can hear when I open my mouth. She pointed a gun to my vagina and said, “weak.” She hasn’t pulled the trigger, yet. But I won’t be taking my eyes off her for the next four years.

Walking on my college campus felt like a joke. How was I supposed to sit in class, take notes, or say something intellectual when a man like Trump has been chosen to lead America. I felt real fear, anxiety I had not felt in months and thought I had under control, and a sadness that once again the system had failed me. From these emotions came another emotion: anger. In case no one has said this yet, our anger is VALID. Too quick are people to shut down our anger or preach a sentiment that we must “unite” as a nation and accept the loss.

Fuck that.

But let’s talk about this concept of “unity.” What does that even mean? I’ll use a tactic I read about recently in Joan Scott’s work: deconstruction. This means breaking the word down and “analyzing the operations of difference in texts, the ways in which meanings are made to work.” Scott claims this requires a reversal and a displacement of binary opposites. So when we try to define “unity,” we cannot default to saying it is “not being divided.” To deconstruct a word means to go beyond just its opposite. This kind of thinking is not easy, I know. But it does challenge us to rethink the customs and societal norms we have been preaching for so long. And so, to unify does not simply mean to “not be divided.” Then what do people mean when they tell me to accept the loss, accept that Trump is my president and stand united with Americans during this time?

Do you know what I hear when people say ‘accept Trump’? I hear: Accept a person who doesn’t give a shit about you or your culture. Accept this man who will grope you if he pleases, who will not listen if you say ‘no.’ Accept that your president wants to displace families, remove Muslims, disregard the queers. Accept that the person who is supposed to represent our country doesn’t care about me as a women. And accept that the racism and bigotry he portrays is now officially validated.

I’m not saying this is the intention; I believe people really do want to unite to try and make the next four years as survivable as they can. But think about how you’re saying that and how I, as a Mexican queer, take that. Recognize that the fear is real; minority groups have a target on our backs now more than ever. Think I’m lying? I promise you, I’m not. Also recognize that asking people to unite and give Trump a chance is asking us to fold, to yield to a man that has shown zero respect to me and my people.

Instead of telling me to “get over it,” or “accept the loss,” how about allowing me to grieve. Let me cry and scream and protest. Let me mourn the fact that America does not care about me. Because I guarantee you, the spark and fire that those emotions will fuel (and already are) will remind me to keep fighting. I will fight to be heard; I will fight for my right to live in America. I will make it so damn difficult for the president-elect that he will constantly be reminded of the minorities. We are not going anywhere.

Let’s “unite” to survive. Let’s “unite” to show we are stronger when we keep fighting and stay true to our values. Trump as president does not change my values. Yes, he challenges them, but I will show my resilience. And I am all for uniting in resilience.