​When I was 18 years old, I had the pleasure and privilege of taking a civil rights trip through the deep south. I spoke with Congressman John Lewis about how he and Bobby Kennedy inspired me. I visited the grave of civil rights worker James Chaney. I met Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth and members of the Little Rock Nine. And along with the rest of our group, we walked across the Edmund Pettus Bridge of Selma, Alabama, the site of some of the most acrimonious battles over voting rights, including Bloody Sunday.
 
On this trip also was my high school government teacher, whom I am glad to now call a friend. I asked him whether he would have joined the civil rights movement in that moment (despite his being a white man). He said he liked to think that he would.
 
At the time, I was more strident than I am now (I think). My progressive politics are more tempered by the reality in which I operate, with part of that reality being that politics is for grown-ups and about compromise among diverse preferences in a pluralistic society. I insisted that I would have been on the front lines. I like to think I would have been, and indeed have protested some of the egregious problems that I saw, whether the Iraq War or the decision in Ferguson, Missouri. But I do not know, and in the face of perhaps the greatest shock to our political culture in a couple generations (perhaps September 11, but it is unclear how they will measure against one another), I realize that there are legitimate concerns as to one’s willingness to put one’s safety at risk when seeking to defend the principles that matter most. Because while I believe there is nobility in exercising the right to peaceful protest for important causes, there is less nobility in martyrdom.
 
To be clear, I view Mr. Trump’s election win as legitimate. I do not believe that the election was rigged. I do not believe the election was hacked. I believe that the Democratic Party underestimated the extent of blue collar economic anxiety and white racial resentment, underestimated to what extent that would drive them to turn out for Mr. Trump. And I believe that rules of the game (Electoral College) were such that her votes were not distributed in a way as to produce a win for Secretary Clinton, and that the problems of the Electoral College should be addressed moving forward but not retroactively. And I believe that it is deeply hypocritical for those on the left to reject the outcome of the election, having condemned Mr. Trump for his declaration that he would only accept the results if he won. The proper time to have condemned Mr. Trump’s candidacy was during the campaign and on November 8, and sadly, many Americans will pay a dear price.
 
While the election was legitimate (Russia issues notwithstanding – yes, that’s a big caveat but I’m not going to go there), the policies that the victor represents are not. As I have written previously, I believe that America’s greatness lies in its embrace of diversity, of its recognition that our national origin, the color of our skin, our religion, or who we love does not lessen what we are worth. I believe that Mr. Trump’s hostility to women, minorities, Muslims, immigrants, refugees, and the LGBT community are a direct affront to our basic values of fundamental decency, and perhaps even more so that his lack of respect for democratic institutions and a free press compromise our ability to defend these rights in the face of ideological disagreement.
 
I have been torn as to the proper message of protest and other opposition to Mr. Trump – a demagogue who was elected legitimately this time – given that he is not yet in office and thus has not yet enacted any of the dangerous and un-American policies that he claims to defend (I use the word “claims” given his marked inconsistency in views).
 
But in watching as hate crimes surge around the nation – with over 200 incidents of hateful harassment, intimidation, and violence reported in the three days following Election Day –  I believe that now is the time for vigilance, and to put pressure on those Republicans who were not in the Trump coalition. I believe that waiting until the inauguration is far too late and thus in this case, too dangerous. The transition team is at work in shaping Mr. Trump’s agenda, from cabinet picks to particular policy items, and while it appears that healthcare will not be as decimated as we might have thought, it is still early, and the cabinet secretaries being floated are not policy experts nearly so much as the most obsequious among his inner circle (e.g., Giuliani, Flynn, Clarke, Palin, Carson). Mr. Trump could conceivably forge a more moderate path and be restrained by the more traditional Republicans (e.g., Paul Ryan), but they are not yet showing a commitment toward that end.
 
So to the extent that American voters can pressure them, to raise loud (though peaceful) voices in defense of basic equality and civil rights, there is no time to waste, whether in the form of protest or in the form of donating to important causes that are currently under siege. It is not about Democrat versus Republican, blue versus red, it is about preserving the basic principles of democracy and equality within which we can wage these important policy battles that divide the parties. And it is about moving America forward, rather than reverting not so much to family values generally but rather the Jim Crow-era values.
 
We are not having a Bloody Sunday right now. I pray that we won’t. But I believe that we owe it to those who lost their lives, who risked their lives, broke their flesh and bones fighting for basic principles of civil rights and voting rights, to not squander the progress of recent decades, but to fight to uphold these principles that are, in fact, what make America great.
 
I’m in. Are you? 

About forty-eight hours after learning that Mr. Trump is President-Elect Trump, I am still in shock. I am not merely dismayed, but devastated, and I am not alone.
 
I say this knowing that I am not the demographic group most adversely affected by his win. I am a heterosexual white woman whose last name is Jewish, but without a religious affiliation. But my friends are not. My friends are Muslim. My friends are Hindu. My friends are Jewish. My friends are Mormon. My friends are gay. My friends are black. My friends are immigrants. After all, my friends are American.
 
My students, though enjoying the privilege of receiving their education at one of the finest universities in the nation and indeed the world, are also diverse, representing many ethnicities and national origins and interests. And they deserve to learn and grow and thrive in a nation that respects them, that allows for the academic and journalistic freedom to help them to expand their horizons and maximize their potential to contribute to an America that is inclusive, that celebrates them.
 
I believe that America’s greatness lies in its appreciation that one's value and worth are not contingent upon the color of our skin, our national origin, to what god we pray (or don’t), or who we love. I am reminded of this in taking the subway through New York City, surrounded by people of different ethnicities, backgrounds, and sexual orientations. That is not Trump’s America, it is ours. And it is a reminder that while I love my country, its greatness is not unconditional, but rather depends on us continuing to uphold these crucial constitutional principles upon which our great nation was founded. It depends on our continued recognition that we thrive because of, and not despite, diversity.
 
I am not a small government conservative, but am friends with some. I believe that history and data show us that investing in government programs helps to maximize progress for all, helps to lift up the poor and middle classes through economic stability and social program delivery. I also recognize that this is not the sentiment shared by all, and that there are important contestations of ideas as to the proper allocation of authority from federal government to states to private enterprise. This election was not one such debate, rather stooping to base -- and indeed debased --instincts and anxieties about an "other."

And I am deeply troubled by the fact that despite Mr. Trump's "policies" that in many ways defy small government, nearly half (yes, she won the popular vote but her votes were not distributed in a way as to produce a win in the Electoral College) of America's voters on Tuesday embraced (or at minimum, enabled) the heightening of racist, homophobic, sexist, and xenophobic sentiment that has garnered him comparisons to Hitler, Mussolini, and Bin Laden. I am saddened that at least some of the people around me do not believe that my Muslim friends are worth as much as I, or that the man in the White House should be entitled to use his now even greater power as leverage to assault women. And I am frightened as to, should Mr. Trump alienate sufficient people to lose his bid for re-election in 2020,  whether he would accept that result as legitimate when holding the role of Commander in Chief. There is speculative evidence to suggest that he would not.

And while I recognize that there very important discussions about polling errors this year -- and those discussions will happen in the days, weeks, months, and probably years to come -- I am dismayed that it distracts from the reality that while these polling errors surprised us with regard to the outcome, it does not explain the bigotry and misogyny that characterized far too much of the election. The reality is that discussing statistical problems is easier than coming to terms with our nation's penchant for discrimination, for the fact that our nation has persistently had extensive white racial resentment, and tensions over minorities and certain religious groups that we can no longer pretend are fringe as opposed to mainstream and soon to be on Pennsylvania Avenue. Winning on a platform of hate for people and for democratic institutions -- not to mention an unabashed desire to suppress voter turnout, especially among minorities -- is not Democratic, it is not Republican, it is not Libertarian, it is wrong. And it won. 

I believe that America’s greatness also depends on our commitment to helping people to rise up and to have access to the sometimes too-elusive American dream. Whether the partisan differences between the Democrats and Republicans are shaped by simply different worldviews of how to move America forward, empirics suggest that the Trump (and broader Republican) agendas consistently favor those at the top of the economic ladder while hurting those at the bottom, whether in terms of taxes or in terms of healthcare and specifically Medicaid. Systematic failures to care for the health and wellbeing of vulnerable populations is unconscionable, and should be deemed un-American.   
 
I believe that if we are going to make claims to greatness, we must disavow the boasting of sexual assault, a criminal act to which one in five women is subjected. Women comprise 51% of the population. And even if we did not, the willingness to embrace this degree of illegality and chauvinism is deeply troubling, and should be for many if not all Americans.
 
I also believe that it is sobering to be mindful of the fact that the fear, anguish, anger, and pain that many of us feel now is the same set of emotions that drove so much of Trump’s core coalition. I do not believe that those fears that were stoked were based on sound considerations, and that the data did not support their concerns, but their sense of pain and fear was real, and it produced all-too-real results. We do not need to empathize with their concerns about immigration and race and other social progress, but it may help us to understand this larger-than-expected segment of society right now.
 
In the immediate aftermath of Martin Luther King’s assassination, Robert F. Kennedy spoke off-the-cuff in some beautiful remarks in which he quoted Aeschylus, who wrote, “Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”
 
I hope that as we cope with the consequences of this earth-shattering election, we can take some semblance of comfort in those words. 

​On November 8, Americans had an opportunity.
 
We had an opportunity to reject the cynicism and unbridled fear on which Mr. Trump’s campaign was based.
 
We had an opportunity to resoundingly declare that a man whose campaign is about building walls rather than bridges is un-American, and that banning individuals on the basis of their religious affiliation defies the basic principles for which we stand.
 
We had an opportunity to defeat the most dangerous demagogue to receive a major party nomination in modern United States history.
 
We had an opportunity to take a much-needed stand for the higher principles of justice, fairness, and equality, the fundamental tenets of the Constitution of the United States, and the very notion that America does better when we work to lift one another up from hardship and expand opportunity.
 
We had an opportunity to affirm that our self-worth is not determined by the color of our skin, our gender, to which god we pray, or who we love. 
​
We had an opportunity to provide an example for the women and young girls of our nation that with enough hard work and determination, they can be anything to which they set their minds, even President of the United States.
 
We had an opportunity to elect the most deeply and broadly qualified person to receive a major party nomination, and to affirm the seemingly basic principle that competence is an important dimension of governance.
 
We had an opportunity to move America forward on healthcare, climate change, reproductive rights, the economy, and the Supreme Court.
 
We squandered this opportunity, and in doing so, we failed ourselves.  
 
Shame on us. 

​There are countless reasons to vote for Hillary Clinton this year. Some come down to defending the basic tenets of democracy and equality, and a faith in the democratic process that Mr. Trump has so vociferously sought to undermine. Some come down to seeking to reject the rampant cynicism and bigotry and fear on which Mr. Trump has based his campaign, galvanizing a base of supporters based on economic anxieties that in many cases do not comport with the economic realities faced by his supporters. Some come down to wanting a president who is competent and has the experience to understand the job of the presidency and how to lead effective political and economic policy, while Mr. Trump has routinely reflected a distressing lack of understanding of the political system that he seeks to govern. Some come down to wanting to avoid associating oneself with a man who boasted of committing sexual assault.
 
But those are reasons to vote against Mr. Trump, admittedly in a two-party system and thus with virtually only two choices. There are many reasons still to be with her, and I have discussed some of these reasons previously. 
 
I am with Hillary because as a product of public schools (go Bears!), I see the important role that they play in leveling the playing field among those who cannot afford private school but who need and deserve a quality education to help prepare them for college and the workforce, competing for the best jobs in the nation (and indeed, the world).
 
I am with Hillary because as a woman, I believe that we are long overdue for showing ourselves and the world that we are ready for women to lead this country in the highest office (and hopefully with greater representation in Congress as well), and to show the many women of this country that they can grow up to be anything they want, whether it is a teacher, a CEO, or President of the United States.
 
I am with her because she supports reproductive choice, understanding that this most personal and life-changing of decisions about women’s own bodies must remain with them and with their doctors, not with the government, especially in grave conditions such as rape.
 
I am with Hillary because as someone with chronic medical conditions, I see the value of maximizing access to quality and affordable healthcare, and while Hillary is committed to expanding access to medical care, Mr. Trump would strip coverage away from millions.
 
I am with Hillary because while Mr. Trump characterized climate change as a hoax perpetrated by the Chinese, Hillary is committed to fighting global warming and reducing greenhouse gases, and investing in alternative energy so as to reduce our carbon footprint while also investing in job creation.
 
I am with Hillary because the economy thrives when we invest in working and middle class Americans rather than concentrating tax benefits for those at the top, which has largely served to leave us in recession. I am with Hillary because President Clinton created more jobs in his 8 years than did the previous 12 years of Republican leadership, and because President Obama led us out of the greatest economic recession since the Great Depression.
 
I am with Hillary because in striking contrast to her opponent’s hateful rhetoric and determination to insult and demean and discriminate, Hillary has built her career fighting for those who have been, or might otherwise have been, left behind, recognizing that we thrive with the inclusivity and equality at the core of our nation’s principles.

I am with Hillary because she will appoint responsible and thoughtful judges and justices to the Supreme Court whose commitment to civil rights and civil liberties will be sorely needed in light of the Shelby County v. Holder (2013) holding, which rolled back Voting Rights Act protections with respect to preclearance requirements in states with histories of discrimination and leaves minorities vulnerable to exceedingly long lines, restrictive photo ID laws, and intimidation.

I am with Hillary because I do not believe that my rights and protections should be determined by the fact that I happen to be heterosexual, because my worth and worthiness to marry should not be shaped by the gender of the people I love. 
 
I am with Hillary because she is a grown-up who understands that politics requires compromise and pragmatism along with hard work and yes, sometimes disappointment that is not fuel for revenge (or vengeful tweets) but rather rethinking how best to maximize policy progress in the face of roadblocks.
 
I am with Hillary because she believes in institutions, and know that at any point of disagreement with her ideologically, she will nevertheless maintain her faith and commitment to the vital political institutions – a free press and the separation of powers -- through which we debate ideas and how best to carry policy forward.
 
I am with Hillary because she makes me proud as an American and as a Democrat.
 
I hope that the rest of the nation is with me, and with her, on Election Day.  

​As a staunch Democrat who has never crossed party lines, I have, over the course of this campaign season, contemplated the position in which mainstream Republicans find themselves this election cycle. While I have not always seen my preferred candidate win the Democratic party primary (in 2004, I was for Dean and then Edwards; in 2008 I was for Clinton), I have never been in the position of being ashamed or aghast by my part’s nominee. I have never had more than a couple weeks of moping before dusting myself off and resuming phone banking or canvassing. I have sought to consider the difficulty that my more conservative friends face in considering voting across party lines, or at least not voting for their party's nominee. 
 
But the reality is that this year is different.
 
It is different for the crucial reason that rather than being a contest of ideas, democracy itself and the preservation of American institutions is on the ballot. It is about the preservation of order, of justice, of a free press and fair elections.
 
And it is different with respect to the intent behind the policies. I believe that many Republican Party platform proposals have the effects of harming minorities, poor and working class Americans, women, and the LGBT community. Giving large tax benefits to those at the top of the income distribution has not been shown to benefit those of the poor and middle classes. Trickle-down economics has not proven to be an effective economic model. Stripping the United States of Obamacare would leave approximately twenty million Americans without any health insurance, with those newly lacking health insurance far from guaranteed to be able to afford to obtain private pay coverage. Absent health insurance, individuals have less access to preventive care and other needed health services, with especially great gaps between those in states that did versus did not participate in Medicaid expansion under the Affordable Care Act. Moreover, those lacking health insurance are more likely to be racial/ethnic minorities, the rollback of healthcare proposed by the GOP would be more likely to have the most adverse impact on minorities. Reducing access to reproductive health services has implications extending well beyond the particular realm of abortion to include such issues as rates of sexually transmitted diseases, HIV, and teen pregnancy, the latter of which can halt or altogether derail young women’s ability to build successful academic and professional careers. Investing in school vouchers to a greater deal than traditional public education can have the effect of underserving public schools on which lower and middle income families rely, with education being a prime pathway to upward economic mobility.
 
I believe that these consistently Republican policies adversely impact a number of these core groups, but it is not necessarily out of malice. Rather, it is out of a deep conviction in small government and a social conservatism that transcends the empirical facts of the policies’ implementation impacts.
 
That the policies of the Cruz’s and Rubio’s of the world have discriminatory implications and not intent is far from enough for me to justify voting for them, but it may be enough to guard against a grave existential dread should one of them find their way to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
 
Donald Trump’s policies, on the other hand, are nefarious. That they are motivated by malice rather than higher principles of small government does not require inference, but rather is supported by his own words, which appeal to Americans’ most base – and indeed, debased – instincts of fear and intolerance for an “other.” They are motivated by an intolerance for Muslims and immigrants, even as he seeks to become the president of what is by virtually any definition a nation of immigrants. They are motivated by a misogyny put front and center in his bragging about sexual assault, his declaring that pregnancy is inconvenient for employers, his characterization of his daughter as a piece of ass, his view that and reduction of women’s worth to their physical appearance. They are motivated by a self-serving attitude consistent with his own history of making his wealth not through honest labor but rather at the expense of others such as through the failure to pay contractors and his failure to pay (let alone disclose) his taxes.
 
While Cruz and Rubio often prove hostile to government despite its aid to minorities and the poor, Trump has shown little reservation in his hostility to minorities and the poor themselves, a brazenness and intolerance that does not belong in the White House. 

That Republican policies have the consistent effects of favoring some at the expense of others is within the realm of natural partisan divisions stemming from different worldviews as to the proper allocation of authority among federal government, state government, and private enterprise, along with some natural concession to an understanding of the demographic groups on which one does or does not rely for electoral success. That Trump’s policies consistently are motivated to benefit himself and are transparently motivated by hateful, racist, sexist, and other discriminatory tendencies is unforgivable and should be a disqualifier for the presidency. The American electorate must recognize this and act accordingly on November 8. 

​On November 4, 1992, I ran giddily around my school’s playground “informing” all of my teachers that Bill Clinton had won the presidency the night before. “Did you know that Clinton won???” I asked, to which I’m sure that they politely indulged in my view that I was in fact the purveyor of political news. I didn’t know what it meant exactly, but I knew from seeing my mother’s watching the results that in a year of a divorce, a move, and with limited financial means, things are changing for the better. Things were becoming possible again. Because in truth, what leads to depression and despair is not hardship in itself, but rather a conviction that tomorrow will be the same or worse than yesterday. For the man of Hope, Arkansas giving newfound hope to so many Americans that night, it was all so fitting that his campaign song would be “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow.”
 
When I was eight years old, upon observing that trees had been cut down along Highway 80 in the East Bay, I wrote a letter to then-Governor Pete Wilson “informing” him of the environmental benefits that we reap from having trees and the deleterious effects of cutting them down, and if he had any lingering questions or concerns, he should feel free to give me a call. (He didn’t).
 
I am not a religious person, not so much out of principle so much as by circumstance, and yet I was from the outset infused with a deep faith in the power of progress through civic engagement and community service, in the conviction that through hard work toward the greater good, to quote my favorite musician, dreams will not be thwarted and faith will be rewarded.
 
Indeed, when I was in college in 2008, I spent the home stretch of the election cycle in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, mobilizing the housing projects and other poor communities to register to vote, know their voting rights, and turn out at the polls on or before Election Day. I spoke with people who were eighteen and excited to see someone of their ethnicity become elected as President of the United States. I spoke with people who in their fifties had never before that year cast a vote, let alone seen a campaign worker on their doorstep. I spoke with people whose windows were boarded because they had felt so acutely the economic devastation that had overtaken so much of the United States under that presidential administration. The last home that I visited there will be forever burned into my brain: in the place where a door previously had been installed was only an old plaid sheet, frayed and fading and damp from the coldness of the fall.  And we spent election night with tears streaming down our cheeks having just made history, with the state being determined by fewer than 15,000 votes.
 
Having spent the home stretch of the 2012 presidential campaign in State College, PA, upon returning to New York City to celebrate the victory, my life changed the night of November 8. The morning after, on November 9, 2012, I took the longest shower of my life, let hot water run over bruises and trembling limbs, scrubbing myself clean as my heart continued to pound. I recounted whether I had said or only thought “no” or “stop.” I recounted to what extent I had physically struggled. I recounted whether we had flirted the previous night (we had). I recounted whether I had invited him to my apartment or whether he had followed me (he followed me). I recounted how many beers I had had that night in celebration of the election and to what extent that gave him license. I contemplated whether to report it (I didn’t). 
 
I have not thought about those moments more than amid the revelation of the Access Hollywood tape of Trump's boasting about sexual assault, though it undeniably has shaped much of my experience of the last four years. So many days seemed tainted, overcast and dismal with a weight upon me that made the pursuit of even simple tasks sometimes more than I could fathom. Far too many days were spent counting down the hours until it was socially acceptable to go back to bed. Far too many hours were spent feeling like a shadow of my former self. In twenty years, I’d reverted from the person who thought they wanted to one day be on the Supreme Court and who had always had a penchant for planning the future in granular detail along with the faith in the ability of phone calls to congressmen and swing state voters to make a difference in the political landscape (even at times imposing on my teachers to make calls about the filibuster and the Supreme Court, often accompanied by a lecture about civic duty), to someone incapable to looking more than hours ahead. At few if any points in 2015 and early 2016 did it feel as though tomorrow would be better than today.
 
And then something changed. Part of it was an exogenously imposed change of scenery as I schlepped my cats and me off to the San Francisco Bay Area for a month, with walks along the Ferry Building, perusals of City Lights Books, and consumptions of inordinate amounts of Zachary’s Pizza with my long-time friend giving me the physical and emotional strength of which I had for too long been devoid. Part of it was having the support of a truly amazing mother and some incomparably amazing friends. But it was also something more than that. It was Hillary Clinton.
 
In a time of rampant cynicism, in a time in which the Republican nominee was making headlines attacking people for their bodies or their ethnicity or their immigration status or their religious affiliation or their gender, Hillary Clinton talked about economic opportunity, healthcare, the environment, equal pay, human rights, women’s rights, education, fairness, and equality. While I have always disagreed with President Reagan, I was reminded of someone’s description of why, despite the economic devastation that his policies created, people loved him so: he made people feel good about America. What I found over the course of 2016 (though I have long supported Clinton, including in the 2008 primary) was a similar sense: I felt a renewed pride in being American and more specifically in being a Democrat, not to mention a renewed strength to persevere. For the first time in a long time, I felt again a sense of faith in the betterment of the future, renewed all the more so as I sat in Blue State Coffee in New Haven, Connecticut with my mother as we watched Hillary accept the Democratic Party’s nomination for President of the United States, tears streaming down our cheeks. Somewhere between Super Tuesday in the primary and the balloon drops of the convention, I found myself again.
 
It is not for lack of love of President Obama that my renewed sense of strength came from Clinton and not him. Indeed, having delivered economic progress coming out of the greatest economic devastation since the Great Depression and delivering the greatest healthcare expansion since 1965, he will go down in history as one of the more effective presidents in modern history. Yes, gender is part of the equation, though it is far from all of it (after all, Sarah Palin couldn’t be farther from my ideological preferences). Hillary is, for lack of better words, home to me, both as a familiar face in Democratic Party politics in the time when I became a political junkie, and as a fighter for the issues nearest and dearest to my heart (namely, healthcare). She is determined. She is scrappy. And she comes from many of the same values and temperament as much of my family, and there are innumerable times this year that I have wished that my grandmother were still alive to see what will soon become of our country (if all goes well). My grandmother, who worked in the California State Capital while raising five children, was a no-nonsense woman who valued hard work and determination, but also compassion, saying, “If it’s mine to give, it’s yours to have.” Similarly, in clinching the required number of delegates for the Democratic Party nomination, Hillary spoke of the influence that her mother had: “She was my rock, from the day I was born till the day she left us… My mother believed that life is about serving others. And she taught me never to back down from a bully, which, it turns out, was pretty good advice.” In a time in my life in which faith and resilience seemed all-too-hard to come by, something about Hillary’s words (and of course her record) resonated, and I knew that knocked down though I most definitely had been, I was not going to be knocked out but rather obtain (and maintain) faith in better tomorrows ahead and find strength on those broken places.
 
On November 8, 2016, our country’s future is at stake, and we have a choice that transcends party identification, striking instead much deeper issues of democracy and faith in the system itself. It is the day on which we must reject cynicism about our democratic process and not not stoop to hate and intolerance about who we love or the color of our skin or our religious affiliation or national origin. It is a day on which we must remind ourselves that America’s greatness depends on our defending the equality and justice upon which our constitution rests.
 
 On November 8, I am more ready than ever to make this new memory.

​Despite the fact that only 31 credible cases of voter fraud were identified in the 1 billion votes cast between 2000 and 2014 (thus averaging just over 4 cases per election year), voter fraud has been highlighted by Mr. Trump as a source of grave concern and the impetus for characterizing the election as “rigged.”
 
This is dangerous, for reasons that I and many others have articulated. Now I thought I’d provide some perspective on just how rare voter fraud is, by highlighting some strange events that, strange though they are, happen more often than does voter fraud.
 

• Coconuts falling on peoples’ heads cause approximately 150 deaths annually.
• 12 high school and college football players die annually.
• Nearly two dozen people die each year from flying champagne corks (over a third of which are at weddings).
• Bee stings cause approximately 100 deaths each year.
• Burns from scalding tap water cause approximately 100 deaths each year.
• More than 2,500 left-handed people are killed annually around the world using equipment designed for right-handed people.
• 22 people are killed each year from apparently sub-optimal encounters with cows.
• And because I can’t resist a West Wing reference, there is a slightly higher rate of death trying to get snacks out of vending machines, averaging 2.18 deaths per year.

 
We still get our caffeine or munchies fixes with the office vending machine. We don’t necessarily preclude our children from playing football. We certainly don’t stop using tap water and champagne is consumed frequently on holidays and other celebrations. And as a lefty myself, I certainly brave the right-handed world on a daily basis.
 
And these are all things with potentially fatal consequences. Voter fraud involves someone opting to break a law to be in all likelihood a not-remotely-pivotal actor in an election. Thus, we are almost assured not to feel the effect of these incredibly rare instances. The next time you’re concerned about voter fraud impacting American elections, consider the far greater – but still very obscure – threats that we face daily.

Among other oddities of the 2016 presidential election is that it will be the first presidential election following the invalidation of key aspects of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
 
In Shelby County v. Holder (2013), the Supreme Court of the United States notably struck down the preclearance regime of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, holding that the coverage formula determining preclearance was no longer needed given contemporary progress. This section of the Voting Rights Act applied to those states with histories of discrimination, requiring that they obtain approval from the federal government before making changes to their election laws. The states to which it applied were Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina, Texas, and Virginia, along with parts of California, Florida, Michigan, New York, North Carolina, and South Dakota. This November will be the first presidential election in the aftermath of this controversial holding.
 
In the immediate aftermath of Shelby County v. Holder, many states took action on their state election laws. Indeed, shortly after the Court’s holding, having waited for the preclearance provision to be invalidated, the North Carolina state legislature passed legislation that imposed strict photo ID requirements, significantly cut back on early voting, and reduced the window for voter registration. Alabama likewise imposed a new strict photo ID requirement that would have required preclearance, and Mississippi moved to enforce its photo ID law which it had not been permitted to implement under the preclearance provisions of the VRA due at least in part to the difficulty of obtaining an acceptable form of ID. Moreover, the very day of the holding, Texas officials announced that they would implement the state’s strict photo ID law, a law that previously had not passed constitutional muster because of Section 5 of the VRA. While it would later be declared so strict as to be unconstitutional, many strict photo ID laws remain intact. Indeed, 34 states have laws requesting or requiring that voters show some form of identification at the polls, a requirement that disadvantages minorities and the poor.  
 
It should come as no surprise that the states to which preclearance applied were largely concentrated in the South given the prevalence of Jim Crow policies ultimately struck down by Congress and the courts. Such states traditionally have tended to be strongly Republican (e.g., Mississippi, Louisiana, South Carolina, Alabama), with strongly Republican (Democratic) states typically not the locus of massive campaigning compared with battleground states such as Florida, Ohio, and Pennsylvania.
 
There are, of course, some states to which Shelby applies that have consistently been relevant, namely Virginia and North Carolina. But this is not only the first election in which the Voting Rights Act protections will hold, but the first election in which more of these applicable states will be competitive. Indeed, with polls in Texas, Georgia, and Arizona all dramatically narrowed, the campaigns are converging on these three states that typically have not been considered in the toss-up (or even lean) category in decades.
 
Indeed, Georgia has not voted for a Democrat since 1992 (and very narrowly at that), with more recent presidential elections won in the state by wide margins. Texas has not voted for a Democrat since 1976. The only time since 1948 that Arizona has voted for a Democrat is 1996. In each of these states currently, Secretary Clinton could conceivably win, with Texas being the longest shot among the three and Georgia the most likely.
 
Even absent competitive elections, the last couple of decades have continued to show instances of voter intimidation and suppression of minority voters in southern states and beyond. People for the American Way documented, for example:
 

• Louisiana (2002): Flyers distributed in African American communities informing them that they could alternatively go to the polls on the following Tuesday.
• South Carolina (1998): A state representative mailed 3,000 brochures to people in African American communities, claiming that law enforcement agents would be “working” the election and indicated that the election “is not worth going to jail.”
• South Carolina (1996): Considerable voter intimidation in Charleston County.
• South Carolina (1990): Charleston County election officials sought to prevent African American voters from seeking voting assistance.
• Michigan (2004): State representative quoted as saying, “If we do not suppress the Detroit vote, we’re going to have a tough time in this election.”
• Texas (2004): Students at predominantly African American university were erroneously told that they were not eligible to vote in the county, despite legal precedent applying to their case.
• Florida (2000): Numerous instances of voter intimidation, especially in immigrant communities.
• North Carolina (2000): Allegations of voter intimidation at the polls.
• North Carolina (1998): GOP officials in some counties planned to videotape people in heavily Democratic precincts, saying that it was to prevent voter fraud, though it was considered in violation of the Voting Rights Act.
• North Carolina (1990): The North Carolina Republican Party sent postcards to 125,000 voters, 97% of whom were African American, giving them false information about voter eligibility and warning them about criminal penalties for voter fraud.
• Alabama (1994): Under the guise of investigating church arson, FBI approached 1000 people and interrogated voters about potential fraud and demanded that many submit handwriting samples.

 
This is a mere sampling.
 
To be clear, the preclearance provisions apply not to incidental incidents of intimidation, but rather the procedures according to which elections formally are conducted, though it indicates that, contrary to the Court’s claims, the Jim Crow South is far from dead.
 
This election is contentious for a number of reasons. The Democratic nominee is the first woman to run in a major party, and has high unfavorable. The Republican nominee has stoked racist, homophobic, anti-Semitic, xenophobic, sexist, and violent rhetoric contributing to such cries as “lock her up,” and signs with Swastikas and racist and sexist epithets. This, coupled with anxieties around crime and policing, as well as Second Amendment rights being discussed at length, is in many ways the perfect storm. That the Voting Rights Act protections of Sections 4 and 5 overturned in Shelby County will not hold is hardly the source of conflict this election cycle, but it is probably adding fuel to the fire.  
 
What is worth noting is that the various irregularities that were identified were not necessarily in regions with competitive races – indeed, most were not. The concern, of course, is that with heavy campaigning absent voting rights protections, we might feel the effects of Shelby County v. Holder all the more acutely than whatever treatment effect we might observe if her expansion of the voting base were in (more predominantly white) heartland states to which preclearance provisions did not apply.
 
While there is the normative desirability of voter participation, there is the reality that some states are not competitive, and with the Electoral College, there is not as much need to battle to win states such as Alabama and Mississippi (or on the other end of the spectrum, Massachusetts and Connecticut), which reliably vote for the same party every year. Secretary Clinton is showing a growing base of support in the South and southwest in such states as Georgia, Texas, and Arizona, regions that have the history of discrimination against which the Voting Rights Act had been working to guard. What remains to be seen is whether the increased need to fight for every vote in these southern and southwestern states yields changes to their voting rights landscape that have lasting adverse consequences for minorities’ political participation.

In the third presidential debate, Republican nominee said of whether he would accept the election outcome, he said he would keep us -- the media and the American people -- in suspense: "I will look at it at the time... I will keep you in suspense."  

In some sense, this is shocking. Our democracy depends on our accepting the validity of election outcomes and the peaceful transfer of power between presidents. To have a major party nominee not commit (on a major national stage, no less) to accepting the election outcome of the presidential election is unprecedented. 

In the other sense, in this strange election of not an October Surprise but October Surprises (and we still have a ways to go!), we have been reminded of Mr. Trump's inability or at best unwillingness to accept outcomes that are not in his favor. He has insisted vociferously that the election is "rigged" despite the studies showing that voter fraud is all but nonexistent, and despite people calling to his attention the dangers in stoking such anger among his supporters. He tweeted several times the night of the 2012 election to declare that it was a "sham" and "not a democracy." He tweeted that the Emmy Awards were rigged, and when Secretary Clinton baited him about that at the debate, true to form, he took the bait: "Should have gotten it." Perhaps the man so keen on calling others losers cannot come to grips with things coming full circle (karma).

His campaign's rebuttal to critique of Trump's comments about the legitimacy of the election has been quite misleading, using Vice President Al Gore as an example. This is hardly a legitimate grounds on which to make his case, for a number of reasons:

1. Mr. Trump is preemptively declaring that the election is rigged, absent literally evidence to support this wild claim, and based on that is preemptively declaring that he will not automatically accept the outcome of the election as legitimate. This is a true undermining of the democratic process, which typically works very well, resulting in ebbs and flows in party control and the policy direction of our nation's governance.

2. In the 2000 election, Vice President Gore had won the popular vote and the Electoral College was legitimately in question. This was not a hypothetical election irregularity, but a genuine question of whether the ballots had been accounted for. It was ultimately determined to a difference of 537 votes in the entire State of Florida.

3. Gore did not himself push for the recount. Rather, it was determined by Florida state law applying to those elections determined by 0.5% or less.

4. At the conclusion of the highly controversial Supreme Court decision of Bush v. Gore (2000), with the Court ruling 5-4 along party lines in Bush's favor, Vice President Gore declared, "Let there be no doubt, while I strongly disagree with the Court's decision, I accept it. I accept the finality of this outcome which will be ratified next Monday in the Electoral College. And tonight, for the sake of our unity as a people and the strength of our democracy, I offer my concession. I also accept my responsibility, which I will discharge unconditionally, to honor the new president-elect and do everything possible to help bring Americans together in fulfillment of the great vision that our Declaration of Independence defines and that our Constitution affirms and defends." Frank Bruni recently called attention to this speech (and others) as a lesson in grace for Mr. Trump. He is correct. 

No one -- no Democrats, no Republicans -- would begrudge Mr. Trump for seeking a recount in the event of an extraordinarily narrow election. But that is not what he is saying, and he has no reason based on the polls to believe that he will be in such a scenario. To undermine citizens' faith in the democratic process as a "cover" in the eventuality of his loss is dangerous and a disgrace.

He and his supporters know better. They should act like it. 

Despite the Republican Party's traditional association with fiscal and social conservatism, its current dilemma appears to be between democracy and delusion. 

​It is difficult to turn on the news, let alone a speech or tweet by Mr. Trump, that does not use one specific word: rigged.
 
Indeed, just today Mr. Trump went on yet another tweetstorm, with several tweets highlighting conspiracy theories that the media is rigging things in favor of his opponent Secretary Clinton. Mr. Trump has repeatedly made the claim that if he loses Pennsylvania, it will be because the election was rigged, despite the fact that Pennsylvania has voted for Democrats from 1992 onward. Even in August, 69% of Trump supporters in North Carolina believed that if Clinton wins, the election will have been rigged against him, with only 16% viewing it as being because she legitimately won more votes.
 
This is dangerous and frightening for a few reasons.
 
To begin with, voter fraud is all but nonexistent, with a comprehensive investigation finding only 31 legitimate cases of voter fraud out of a billion votes cast.
 
And it is not surprising, when thinking like the Downesian rational voter: the probability of being a pivotal voter is virtually zero, with a much higher probability of being penalized due to the illegality of that action. 
 
Yet despite the essentially inconsequential nature of voter fraud, it continues to be used as a justification for Mr. Trump to call upon his supporters to “watch” polls in “certain” areas, suggesting that they intimidate minorities in their precincts, which of course are far more predominantly Democratic. And distressingly, his supporters are answering Mr. Trump’s call to action, both pledging to “watch” minorities and immigrants, and discussing outright revolution and bloodshed in the event of a Clinton win. And as Nate Persily and Jon Cohen note, the lack of faith of democracy is driven in part by partisan identification, with only 52% of voters expressing continued faith in American democracy, but 6 in 10 Democratic voters still having faith in Democracy but only 4 in 10 Republican voters saying the same. Protection of democracy should not be a partisan matter. Rather, it is a system through which Democrats win sometimes and Republicans win sometimes, and that is healthy. Sadly, this issue no longer transcends party identification. It has gone from being about left versus right to being about Trump versus facts. 
 
That the Republican Party would be engaged in voter suppression efforts is, sadly, not new. One reality is that the Democratic Party typically thrives with higher turnout. Another is that the Democratic Party thrives especially with higher turnout among minorities, and that demographic changes (along with shifts toward a more socially tolerant worldview amid generational replacement) make outreach to new swaths of voters difficult for the Republican Party absent some changes to its social policy agenda. When looking to win an election, you can broaden your base, or you can maximize your existing base. Absent the confidence that a base strategy can garner an election victory, some sadly turn to restricting the opponent’s turnout, whether legislatively through voter ID legislation, or illegally through intimidation at polling places and the spread of misinformation. Trump himself recognizes this, tweeting on the 2012 election night that "more votes equals a loss." This is common knowledge but not expressed as blatantly in the public sphere. 
 
It is not new, but it is dangerous in that it attacks the very core of our democratic process, which depends on our accepting election outcomes as valid whether or not we were the victor, whether or not we are pleased. Absent a view that our votes count or that our election is legitimate, we lose also the faith in the legitimacy of the leaders to whom we look in the White House and in Congress (as sadly exemplified by Mr. Trump’s perpetuation of the birther movement and his recent reference to the Obama presidency in air quotes, thus giving ammunition to those seeking to challenge the legitimacy of the policies of his administration). It is dangerous and frightening. And more than that, it is un-American. And it is un-patriotic.   
 
Mr. Trump has a history of not accepting election outcomes that he finds displeasing. Indeed, right after President Obama won reelection by a commanding margin, he tweeted, “This election is a total sham and a travesty. We are not a democracy!” Yet Governor Romney was, as should be accepted of any adult in the public sphere, a gracious loser, and in a recent speech in Nevada with Joe Heck did his part to reinstate that approach: he said that he was out-organized (“I wanted to run in the worst way possible and that’s what I did, I lost”) and encouraged Republicans to turn out better this time around. It was a “better luck next time” approach that is sadly missing from this year’s Republican nominee and the supporters who have eaten up his conspiracy theories and propaganda as to the legitimacy of an election in which he might not be the victor.

Of course the most notorious contemporary example is Vice President Al Gore's concession of the hotly contested 2000 presidential election, the resolution of which controversially reached the Supreme Court in Bush v. Gore and culminated in his concession, "While I strongly disagree with the Court's decision, I accept it. For the sake of our unity as a people and the strength of our democracy, I offer my concession I also accept my responsibility, which I will discharge unconditionally, to honor the new president-elect and do everything possible to help him bring Americans together." (Ironically, Republicans should be very sensitive to the need to preserve institutional legitimacy given the challenges raised regarding the legitimacy of the Bush presidency in the aftermath of the Supreme Court's widely-criticized holding that determined the outcome).
 
Indeed, by all accounts Mr. Trump defied the system. By all accounts, the nomination should have gone to Marco Rubio, who likely would be tied or ahead in the current polls. Trump beat the odds. That he has proceeded to dig his own grave is a reflection on him, not on the media or our democratic institutions. Moreover, his conspiracy theories regard collusion between the Clinton campaign and the media have the additional adverse impact of leaving Americans unwilling to trust journalistic integrity. A free and independent media is a hallmark of democracy, and faith in that process likewise is essential.   
 
In our democratic process, sometimes our candidate wins. Sometimes our candidate loses. We pick ourselves up, we dust ourselves off, and we hope for success the next election cycle. We need political figures who serve as exemplars of respect for the democracy that we hold dear, and who respect our democratic institutions enough to abide by them. The spread of conspiracy theories, misinformation, and propaganda is no path toward America’s greatness, but rather its demise.