In fact, it seemed so obvious that Trump can't bring back steel to Pennsylvania, and that even trying to do so would plunge the state's economy further into instability , that I didn't give credence to the opinions and power of the millions of people that attended his rallies in places like Hershey and Scranton. But these are people who felt moved by Trump's message and voted out of self-interest.I tricked myself into thinking that I could empathize with the majority of the people in those states, whose lives I have only driven through.I cried watching Hillary give her concession speech, as her husband, whose personal transgressions were lobbed against her repeatedly and effectively, stood in the camera's frame. These were tears of anger. (How dare we as a nation allow the concession of the most qualified candidate, who may ultimately have earned more popular votes than any candidate in history?) They were tears of fear and self-pity. (Did she really lose because we are a racist and misogynistic republic?) But, overwhelmingly, they were tears of embarrassment. It's not that I didn't do enough, it's that I did next to nothing.While it's nice to live in a time when the majority of my country votes for a candidate that stands for my ideals, it's not enough. It's not enough to wait until a disparity in my own family, and an unexpected outcome, forces me to confront the difference between voting for my ideals and advocating for them. I may not agree with my father’s vote, but I take responsibility for not listening and not taking the risk to challenge it.