It's Nov. 5th, 2020. Two things are true: we still don't know who the president is and Margaret and I are not having a good week. We chat about our coping mechanisms the past few days, Margaret's almost suppressed vote, my sudden illness, and my quota of white people. Through the laughs and realization that our democracy is truly doomed, Margaret talks to me about the hard conversations she has with her white peers about racism, politics, and everything in between.