I want to make one thing abundantly clear: this isn’t the end of the world.

We’re just approaching it.

Brazil has elected a man named Jair Bolsonaro as their president. A former army official, Bolsonaro has voiced support for lending police more power, and is an advocate for relaxing gun laws to allow more people to arm themselves.

Bolsonaro is a man that many people can and should despise. He’s advocated for torture, he once said that a female lawmaker was “too ugly to rape” and he yearns for the days of the brutal Brazilian military dictatorship from decades ago. He’s threatened to either execute or exile his political opponents, and once said that he would rather have his son die or be a drug addict than gay.

Bolsonaro is a classic authoritarian and hard right figurehead. Much like Viktor Orban of Hungary and the popularity of Marine Le Pen in France, he rose through the ranks and gained power on the waves of fear plaguing the world.

Bolsonaro will have access to the might of the government of the largest country in South America. He plans on privatizing the Amazon Rainforest and, if left unchecked, will railroad Brazil right back into a fascist military dictatorship.

Behold, Saints, the power of the vote. Bolsonaro’s victory came on the heels of a wave of ecstatic support for him, and a powerful desire for change: Brazil’s government, rocked by corruption, fell from grace, leaving the populace to draw up a demand for something better. He is the end result.

Four years ago, I wasn’t old enough to vote in the midterms. Four years ago, I wouldn’t have cared to vote in the midterms. My father and mother are union folk, my mother a teacher and my father a millwright. I was blue my whole life, without wholly realizing the scope, importance and fallacy of my passive engagement.

I supported Nicole Duve for District Attorney because my parents did. I hated Scott Walker and his union busting bill because my mother did. I remember the rage she felt when they snuck that bill through in Wisconsin, and I remember, even more vividly, the activism of those who stormed the legislators’ meeting and screamed “SHAME” at those cowards.

I remember my father talking about “The Man” in us versus them terms. I wouldn’t have cared because Obama was President, and as far as I was concerned, that meant that we were making great strides. I felt I wasn’t needed in those days.

Passive engagement will only get you so far. I participated in rallies, marches, and our town’s Labor Day Parade for years. The United Auto Workers Local 465 of Massena, N.Y. will hold a powerful place in my mind and heart, and yet, none of it matters now, because I wasn’t able to make my voice heard.

Please, go to marches, go to rallies, go stand for what you believe in. Be loud, but, at the end of the day, activism only matters when you get the votes tallied. At the end of the day, take activism to the ballot box.

It’s not just a Congress we’re electing. We’re assuming stewardship of the world on Nov. 6, and we cannot afford to let it die on us. We’re voting to protect people with pre-existing conditions. We’re voting to protect LGBTQ+ rights, and to protect the Fourteenth Amendment. We’re voting to enact gun control, we’re voting to protect unions, we’re voting to protect those in poverty, we’re voting to protect survivors of sexual assault.

We’re voting to alter our course of self-destruction and ensure the future of the human race on this planet. This focus is non-negotiable: there are no ifs, ands, or buts about this. We don’t have much longer left here, based on recent climate change reports, and if we don’t do something soon, we’re doomed.

So, vote. Go out there. If you’re registered in Canton, please go. It’s not just that there’s a lot at stake – it’s that there’s too much at stake. It’s too important to ignore.