Chills ran down my neck when I watched Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s recent Instagram story. “Turn your fear into fuel,” her words reverberated off my phone’s screen. “Let this moment radicalize you.”
I knew then that she was right: “November is about survival.” And if young Latinos like me – a key voter base in swing states – make the right choice on Tuesday, I can go to sleep knowing my president isn’t a fascist.
But hearing Ocasio-Cortez’s words of wisdom and courage, I felt a sinking sadness. As a working-class 17-year-old Mexican-American, I can’t vote – not until next year. And throughout this election cycle, I’ve felt a deep sense of powerlessness, a reminder of my position in society.
Since the onset of the pandemic, I’ve been cramped in a two-bedroom apartment with two brothers and my parents, who are essential workers in one of San Diego’s coronavirus hotspots – where Hispanics comprise 45% of Covid-19 deaths. And earlier this summer, I was horrified to find my uncle died from the virus.
Passing the cracked sidewalks of my apartment complex, I’m disheartened by the disparate impact of the pandemic, which disproportionately victimizes Latinos. Parents clad in yellow vests or fast-food aprons leave their doors every morning to work as essential employees, risking their lives, their families, and our community to coronavirus. In each glance we exchange, I sense silent despair. It’s hard not to surrender to the material challenges we face.
And starting my seventh month in remote learning, I’ve felt the consequences. I attend a Title 1 school in a district where 60% of students – including myself – are socioeconomically disadvantaged. My unreliable internet connectivity has made remote learning challenging, and I’ve found myself struggling to balance my schoolwork, extracurriculars and college applications. I think I’ve formed permanent eye bags and my mental health has suffered like never before in the last few months. With support from teachers, however, I’ve kept up my grades and sanity – but I can’t say it’s been easy.
My struggles mirror those of millions of Latinos like me, which makes our solidarity so important. No matter our differences, our communities share a devotion to our families and to each other.
I still remember the month in elementary school I spent living in a motel. My father had just lost his job and we were buying groceries at the 99-cent store. But it was my grandfather who helped us secure stable housing. It was my grandmother who drove me and my siblings to school when my parents were working. It was the Uruguayan lunch lady who smiled at us at school, making our days a tad sweeter. Only in recognizing our solidarity can we overcome the obstacles of the pandemic – a path made more viable with Biden’s plans to address disparities in vulnerable communities.
Fortunately, many of us have rightfully changed our minds since 2016. An aunt of mine, finally fed up with Trump’s racism, has decided to vote for Biden. And speaking with Latino voters, I’ve noticed many have compromised on key issues like abortion to vote Democrat in the upcoming election. Trump’s separation of families and proto-fascist rhetoric have simply harmed Latino communities for far too long. We may not agree on every issue, but electing Biden now is a matter of survival.
And let me be clear: a successful Biden presidency is no reason to quell our current political spirit. It is a call to action. Though Biden hasn’t committed to Medicare for All and continues to swallow corporate cash, his presidency, if victorious, should galvanize us to demand for needed reform.
Our current administration is chipping away at our democracy, and another four years of it would prove devastating for people like me. Voting for Biden this Tuesday is a decision of moral clarity – and we need young Latinos’ support now more than ever.
With Biden, I could return to school faster with his campaign’s legitimate plans to curtail the pandemic. With Biden, I could step out of my apartment knowing my government isn’t fanning the flames of white supremacy. With Biden, I have hope for my future and the fate of millions of Latinos like me.
Por favor, fulfill your civic duties this Tuesday. I won’t be able to vote, but you can – and together, we can restore the soul of our nation.
Source: US Politics - theguardian.com
