
Exit polls from the presidential election reveal a divided country: Women tended to vote for Kamala Harris; men, for Donald Trump. And that divide may extend to citizens who aren’t yet of voting age. Naomi Beinart, a 16-year-old junior, witnessed it at her school in the days after the election. In this episode, Beinart says that while her fellow female students fear for the future, “this election didn’t seem to measurably change anything for the boys around me, whether their parents supported Mr. Trump or not.”
Loading summary
A
This podcast is supported by US Bank. At US bank, when they say they're in it with you, they mean it. Not just for the good stuff, the grand openings and celebrations, although those are pretty great. But for all the hard work it took to get there. Because together they're proving day in and day out that there is nothing as powerful as the power of us. Visit us bank.com to get started today. = housing lender member FDIC.
B
This is the Opinions, a show that brings you a mix of voices from New York Times opinion. You've heard the news. Here's what to make of it.
C
I'm Naomi Beinart and I'm a junior in high school. On the morning after the election, I walked up the staircase of my school. A preteen was crying into the shoulders of her braces clad peer. Her friend was rubbing circles on her back. I continued up the stairs to the lounge where upperclassmen linger before classes. There I saw two tables. One was filled with my girlfriends, many of them with hollows of darkness under their eyes. There was a thick blanket of despair over the young women in the room. I looked over to the other table of teenage boys and saw Minecraft on their computers. While we were gasping for a breath, it seemed that they were breathing freely. We girls woke up to a country that would rather elect a man found liable for sexual abuse than a woman, where the kind of man my mother instructs me to cross the street to avoid will be addressed as Mr. President, where the body I haven't fully grown into may no longer be under my control. The boys, it seemed to me, just woke up on a Wednesday. What made my skin burn most wasn't that more than 75 million people voted for Donald Trump. It was that this election didn't seem to measurably change anything for the boys around me, whether their parents supported Mr. Trump or not. Many of them didn't seem to share our rage, our fear, our despair. They don't even seem to share our same fear for the future. I am scared that I will wake up in an episode of the Handmaid's Tale. I am scared that Trump's new appointees will take away or restrict birth control and Plan B from us the same way they did abortion. I am scared that the acne riddled boys I know will see in a triumphant, boastful Trump the epitome of a manly man and model themselves after him. I feel like I'm at the beginning of a nightmare. I'm scared for the next four years. I was 8 the first time Trump was elected. Now I am 16. I am still unable to vote, but now I am so much more aware of what I have to lose. I've seen some of the ways in which many of the boys in my generation can be different from their fathers. The MeToo movement went mainstream when they were still wearing Superman pajamas on Tuesdays. In health class, they learn about the dangers of inebriated consent. They don't pretend to gag when a girl mentions her period or a tampon falls out of her backpack. They don't find sexist jokes all that funny and don't often make them in public. I love and care for many of these boys and have always felt they were on my side, and I'm grateful to my school for taking gender equality as seriously as it takes trigonometry. But most of the guys I saw that Wednesday appeared nonchalant. A smiling student shook his friend's hand and said sarcastically, good election, in the same hallway where I saw a female teacher clutching a damp tissue. Why were these boys so unperturbed? I worried that my guy friends only cared about women until it conflicted with other, more pressing priorities. That morning I spoke with a male classmate. He asked if I was okay. I nearly melted with relief. See, I knew not all guys were ignorant. Then, before I responded, he continued, why, he wondered, are so many girls crying? I stared. I swallowed that familiar lump, and I had one thought. I pray that my older brother never asks that question. How could my classmate not know why girls in his grade were biting their nails and doing breathing exercises in the all gender bathroom? Our future is sliding down the sides of our faces. And he asked me why we are crying. I've never felt that disconnected from men. I've never felt more like a girl. Eight years ago, I was too young to feel the full force of Hillary Clinton's loss. Now, at 16, I've had the wind knocked out of me. On Wednesday, anger coursed through my veins, but it was diluted by an even stronger feeling defeat. I saw it in the eyes of women in my subway car that morning. I saw it in the barista at the coffee shop on the corner, the female security guard at my school, and in the face of my history teacher in a terrible way. I've never felt more part of a sisterhood or more certain that pain is shared within that family. I wish the consequences of this moment for young women punctured the apparent indifference of so many men and boys I saw that day. I wish they could breathe in what the women and girls I know have been inhaling since November 5th. I can't predict how well I'm going to do on an English test tomorrow, and I definitely can't predict the future for me and my fellow young women. For now, all I can do is tell you how I feel.
B
If you like this show, follow it on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you get your podcasts. This show is produced by Derek Arthur, Sophia Alvarez, Boyd Bishaka Durba, Phoebe Lett, Christina Samulewski, and Gillian Weinberger. It's edited by Kari Pitkin, Alison Brusek, and Annie Rose Strasser. Engineering, mixing and original music by Isaac Jones, sonia Herrero, Pat McCusker, Carol Sabaro, and Afim Shapiro. Additional music by Amin Sohota. The Fact Check team is Kate Sinclair, Mary Marge Locker, and Michelle Harris. Audience strategy by Shannon Busta, Christina Samulewski, and Adrian Rivera. The executive producer of Times Opinion Audio is Annie Rose Dresser.
Podcast Summary: The Opinions Episode Title: Processing... Release Date: November 19, 2024 Host/Author: The New York Times Opinion
In the episode titled "Processing...," The New York Times Opinion podcast delves into the emotional and societal ramifications of the 2024 U.S. presidential election. Through a poignant narrative by Naomi Beinart, a 16-year-old high school junior, the episode explores themes of gender disparity, political anxiety, and the generational divide in understanding and reacting to political outcomes.
Naomi Beinart begins her narrative by painting a vivid picture of her high school's atmosphere the morning after the election. She observes a stark contrast between the emotional states of the female and male students:
"There was a thick blanket of despair over the young women in the room." [02:15]
While the girls are visibly distressed, the boys appear unaffected, engrossed in activities like playing Minecraft. This disparity highlights the different ways genders process and react to political events.
Naomi expresses deep fears about the future, particularly concerning women's rights and bodily autonomy under the new administration:
"I am scared that Trump's new appointees will take away or restrict birth control and Plan B from us the same way they did abortion." [03:50]
She fears a regression to a dystopian reality reminiscent of "The Handmaid's Tale," where women's freedoms are severely curtailed.
Naomi reflects on how the current generation of boys differs from previous ones, especially in terms of gender equality and societal expectations:
"The MeToo movement went mainstream when they were still wearing Superman pajamas on Tuesdays." [04:20]
She appreciates that many boys today are more empathetic and less tolerant of sexism, although she is concerned that this empathy wanes when political tensions rise.
A significant moment in the episode is Naomi's interaction with a male classmate who questions why so many girls are crying. This encounter encapsulates the emotional disconnect and misunderstanding between genders:
"He asked if I was okay. I nearly melted with relief. See, I knew not all guys were ignorant." [05:30]
"He asked me why we are crying. I've never felt that disconnected from men. I've never felt more like a girl." [06:05]
This exchange underscores the loneliness and isolation Naomi feels, despite being part of a supportive sisterhood.
Despite the bleak outlook, Naomi finds solace in the shared pain and resilience of young women:
"I've never felt more part of a sisterhood or more certain that pain is shared within that family." [06:40]
She emphasizes the collective strength and hope that binds young women together, even in the face of adversity.
“I am scared that Trump’s new appointees will take away or restrict birth control and Plan B from us the same way they did abortion.” — Naomi Beinart [03:50]
“The MeToo movement went mainstream when they were still wearing Superman pajamas on Tuesdays.” — Naomi Beinart [04:20]
“He asked if I was okay. I nearly melted with relief. See, I knew not all guys were ignorant.” — Naomi Beinart [05:30]
“I've never felt that disconnected from men. I've never felt more like a girl.” — Naomi Beinart [06:05]
The episode "Processing..." offers a heartfelt exploration of the immediate and long-term effects of a contentious election on young women. Through Naomi Beinart's introspective narrative, listeners gain insight into the emotional challenges faced by the younger generation, the ongoing struggle for gender equality, and the critical need for empathy and understanding across genders. The podcast underscores the importance of solidarity and the enduring hope that fuels resistance against impending societal changes.
For those seeking a nuanced understanding of the emotional landscape following the 2024 election, this episode of The Opinions provides a compelling and empathetic perspective through the eyes of a young woman navigating a tumultuous political climate.