I can still remember, quite vividly, the first time I learned about the American Dream: I was a 12-year-old student in the Midwest. A refinery’s smoky vapours oozed into the summer sky as our teacher read Steinbeck to us, and spoke about the values upon which the American republic had been founded. Despite all of the problems pervading American society, I have always come to think of this country as embodying a certain promise of opportunity. After all, my parents, both Spaniards by birth and upbringing, met in Madison, Wisconsin, in the winter of 1988. Although they moved back to Spain, their connection, and my connection, with the United States never really went away.

That’s why last week's American election has deeply affected me. We all thought that with the days of established democracy came the time where none of the population would ever feel explicitly threatened by the political establishment again. I guess we were wrong. Donald Trump is truly irrelevant in my eyes. But the fact that his presidency is enveloped in a veil of uncertainty is not what scares me the most. True, his inconsistency, when it comes to policy-making, is alarming to those of us who know how intricate the affairs of state truly are. After declaring that he would “strongly consider” appointing a Supreme Court justice to overturn its landmark decision on same-sex marriage in January, he went on to express his support for transgender people’s right to use whichever bathroom they felt comfortable with in April, and then completely changed his mind by supporting North Carolina’s HB2 – a bill enforcing single-sex bathrooms – in July. Uncertainty looms for LGBT+ people like myself.

We have no idea how Trump’s presidency, as a completely inexperienced politician, will unfold. But there is no doubt that the establishment governing the country as part of his administration will be unwaveringly constant. The radical Tea Party wing of the GOP has not had a say in government for years. Now they’re back, vindictive as ever, energised to overturn Obama’s legislation, especially when it comes to LGBT+ issues and marriage equality. Thus, it is Mike Pence, Vice President-elect and now the most powerful politician in the nation, who really scares me. He has actively sought to crack down on many people’s individual rights, having passed his “license to discriminate” law in Indiana. He’s also a firm advocate of gay conversion therapy. With such power, this is terrifying for the LGBT+ community.

I was looking forward to returning to Madison this summer: a town that has truly made me grow as an individual and given me hope of achieving my dream of getting a PhD at an American university. Now, I don’t know what to think anymore. As a politics student, this is discouraging. I will not admit defeat, for I, as much as anyone else who believes in equal rights for all, know that we will keep achieving and ‘Make Society Good for Everyone’. But at this point in time, what I've dedicated my life to – this in-depth study of human political life – seems a bit pointless. There is definitely a rational political explanation for this catastrophe, one that I, though with difficulty, can comprehend. Economic anxieties will always lie above the common good in importance to certain individuals. This is the crude reality we have learnt to stomach in politics.

But this ‘victory’, to my mind, is fundamentally irrational. Political irrationality shines through when a misogynist, a racist, a demagogue, an inexperienced character, a criminal comes to power above a prepared, capable, educated woman. I shared others’ concerns about Hillary Clinton’s candidacy. But never will I understand the situation which drove such a man to power when faced with, in comparison, such competent opposition.

Now, do I continue with a study of these irrational power dynamics that we call politics? Or do I move onto something new? I do not know. The future is bleak when the LGBT+ community is threatened with conversion therapy, when women are harassed with sexual assault talk, and when immigrants and people of colour are openly designated as targets of hate, all within the framework of a political campaign. All of these people’s efforts to be treated as equals will now suffer decades of regression – and there is little that can be done now.

Wisconsin was called red late on election night, at that point in the late hours when one is too frustrated and mentally drained to carry on without some sleep. It happens regularly in Cambridge, but never had a moment of uncertainty felt so bittersweet. There was still a chance for the Democrats.

After the result, my profoundly apolitical friends, devastated, are staging anti-Trump protests, and I have never been this clueless, tired, ill, depressed, and truly speechless about an election. There is a lot of work to be done for the American Dream to become a reality for all. However, when an American Dream of hope, happiness and promise is distorted into one of rage, how do we react? There’s a beauty to today’s world which will enable us to fight back. The internet, handheld cameras, phones…We are watching you, Mr Trump. We are judging you, Mr Pence. And we will not let the next four years drive us back to the Stone Age without a good fight. You scare me and you have made me completely rethink my future. But I tell you this: I intend to fight back.