When I laid you down in bed tonight, I made you a promise. “When I wake you up in the morning, I’m going to tell you I love you and that Hillary won.” When you wake up, you’ll know by the sound of my voice and by the tears in my eyes, that I was wrong.
Tonight you were so sweet to your momma. You gave her hugs and told her not to worry. In the morning, I bet you’ll do the same for me. You’ll tell me it’s ok and give me a hug and ask to watch a cartoon. You will be in your morning routine, as sweet and innocent as you were this morning, unaware of the change around you.
But the world will not be the same tomorrow as it was today. A few hours ago, while you were in the bath, I told you that a woman was going to be the most powerful leader in the world. We talked about how the current President was black and how your friends are black and brown and white, and none of that matters. Tomorrow, you’ll ask why Hillary lost, and I’ll have a hard time coming up with an answer more intelligible for you than sexism and racism.
Before you were born, before you were even conceived, we picked out the name Evelyn for you. It was my grandmother’s, name and she was a strong woman. We would call you Evie while you were our little girl, and Evelyn when you were a professor, a CEO, or the President.
But tonight a woman who’s worked her whole life as a public servant, who has more experience than anyone who’s ever run for this office, lost. What’s worse is that Hillary didn’t lose to a well-spoken, charming leader. She didn’t lose to a smart, determined thinker. She didn’t lose to a humble man-of-the-people.
Tonight, Hillary lost to a man who has made a fortune swindling people. A man who has bragged about adultery and sexual assault. A man who has stoked the flames of racism and nationalism. A man who cannot forgive a slight and who knows no humbleness. A businessman whose very election will bring the economy crashing down as we wakeup.
I am so sorry that a woman cannot be president. I’m so sorry that our country, that you love, would rather elect such a man. I am so sorry for the horrible things you will hear on the playground tomorrow from kids repeating the words of this president-elect. I am so sorry that we have failed you.
I hope one day the world will again be as full of hope and opportunity as it was when I laid you down to bed. I hope we have not failed you as badly as I fear. I hope that when you’re old enough to realize the enormity of our failure, of my failure, that you will still be as sweet, as kind as you will be in the morning, and that you will again hug me and tell me not to worry.
I love you,