This article was originally meant to be an informative piece on how the results of the 2024 presidential election have impacted the George School community. However, after numerous interviews and discussions with students, I found the topic to be far more personal and complex than I first imagined. Politics, once seen as an abstract concept for many, has now become deeply intertwined with the daily lives and conversations of everyone in this country. This election, like the ones before it, has shaped not only the political landscape but also the very fabric of our shared reality. For a school where the majority of the student body cannot vote, we have nonetheless become keenly aware of the information circulating around us—and perhaps more so of the atmosphere it creates.
During my conversations with students, I asked a simple question: What one word would you use to describe the recent election? The responses I received were telling: “frightening,” “ineffable,” “shocking,” “interesting,” “weird,” and, my personal favorite, “an election.” These responses, though varied, seem to reflect the progressive leanings of our student body. But more than that, they spoke to something deeper—an uneasy recognition of the polarized and fractured state of our political system.
Passivity in the face of injustice is complicity. To turn away now would be to deny the fight.
In a world so overtaken by polarization, George School is no different. The political discourse here is as divided as it is in the broader country. As I reflected on my conversations, I realized that much of what I heard aligned with my own beliefs. But there was a subtle discomfort, a nagging sense that I was being told exactly what I wanted to hear. As philosopher John Stuart Mill argued in On Liberty, the free exchange of ideas is necessary for the pursuit of truth. But in today’s polarized climate, the truth is often buried beneath a cacophony of half-truths, misinformation, and ideological echo chambers.
Polarization in the United States was vividly apparent in the results of the 2024 election, and it was just as evident in the responses I encountered at George School. While I’m not one to shy away from expressing my opinions, especially in the context of a conversation, I find it increasingly concerning how social media platforms have become battlegrounds for ideological purity. Blocking people whose views differ from your own does not make those views disappear. It only reinforces the silos we live in, where opposing perspectives are discarded rather than engaged with.
This form of ideological isolationism is mirrored in the actions of our political leaders. Politicians on both sides of the aisle are now more likely to condemn their opponents for their mere party affiliation rather than engage in substantive debates over policy. This trend was set in motion after the 2016 election, when the bitter rivalry between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump seemed to redefine the nature of American politics. The election was no longer about policy—about tangible issues facing the nation—but about personalities, identity, and power. And this has only deepened in the years since.
In 2020, Donald Trump ran for re-election as the incumbent, and after four years of divisive policy reversals, I was relieved to see Joe Biden emerge as the Democratic nominee. His presidency, however, has been far from the hopeful return to normalcy many of us expected. His administration has achieved some successes, but it has also been marked by inconsistency and an inability to articulate a clear vision for the future. Biden’s presidency, while a temporary respite from Trumpism, has left me feeling underwhelmed and disillusioned.
Fast forward to the 2024 election, and we find ourselves facing a scenario that was almost unthinkable just a few years ago. Kamala Harris, a politician I had once hoped would rise to the occasion, found herself running for president only after Biden’s sudden withdrawal. Meanwhile, Trump, a figure of division and controversy, was once again vying for power. This wasn’t just a battle between two individuals; it was a contest between a history of systemic injustice and the hope for real progress. For many of us, it felt like we were stuck in a nightmare, with no escape from the cycle of injustice and inequality.
As a student who missed the voting age by just nine days, I often wonder what my own vote could have accomplished. I have accepted that my role in this election was limited to canvassing for others and making sure my mother sent in her mail-in ballot. Yet, I know there are others like me—young people who feel powerless, unable to have a voice in the political process. This is a pervasive issue in a country that claims to be a democracy but systematically denies its youngest citizens the right to participate in shaping their future.
As I look at the political landscape, I can’t help but ask: Why is it that we, as students in advanced classes like AP Government and AP US History, are taught to believe in the ideals of democracy and freedom, yet we are denied the ability to practice them? The decision to disenfranchise young people is not just an oversight—it is a deliberate choice to maintain the status quo. The result? A political system that is ill-equipped to address the challenges of the present and future.
I do not believe that the votes of high schoolers would have dramatically changed the outcome of this election. But I do believe that if we were allowed to vote, it would have forced a deeper, more critical evaluation of the implications of electing someone like Donald Trump. It would have forced us to confront the reality that progress is fragile and that the gains we have made in areas like civil rights, gender equality, and racial justice can be easily reversed.
The 2024 election was not just about policies—it was about the very values that define us as a nation. It was about race, gender, and identity. The glass ceiling, so often cited as being shattered, has now been resealed with a sense of finality that is both disheartening and deeply troubling. The fight for women’s rights, for racial justice, and for basic human dignity is not over—it is ongoing, and it is more fragile than we often realize.
I acknowledge that at George School, I do not represent every single one of my peers. There are many who hold different beliefs, who voted for candidates whose policies I fundamentally disagree with. That is life. We are surrounded by a diverse community, and differing opinions are a part of that. But it is important to recognize that those who voted for Trump are not “uneducated” or “crazy.” They are our neighbors, our classmates, our friends. To dismiss them as such is to perpetuate the same kind of ideological division that has crippled our political system.
This election, like the ones before it, has shaped not only the political landscape but also the very fabric of our shared reality.
I urge us, as students of this diverse, opinionated, and educated community, to reject the narrow-mindedness that so often defines modern politics. Let us not follow in the footsteps of politicians who refuse to engage with those who disagree with them. Let us instead seek to understand the shifts in American politics, to challenge our own assumptions, and to engage in conversations that are not driven by animosity, but by a genuine desire to understand.
We are the next generation, and we are about to inherit a world shaped by decisions made in the political arena. It is essential that we form our own opinions and beliefs. But in doing so, we must avoid the trap of dogmatism—of refusing to look another person in the eye because their views differ from our own. Passivity in the face of injustice is complicity. To turn away now would be to deny the fight. We must look each other in the eye, acknowledge our differences, and recognize that the threats we face—whether to our rights, our future, or our values—will be evidence enough of what happens when we fail to confront them.
This is not a battle that will be won or lost in the span of a single election cycle. It is a long-term struggle, one that will last lifetimes, as injustices always do. It is up to us, the next generation, to ensure that progress is not just a fleeting illusion, but a permanent reality.
Disclaimer: This article does not reflect the Editorial Board’s opinion on the matter being written about, it articulates the informed perspective of one student (Ellie Remus, the Managing Editor).
