The presidential election results were not so much a resounding victory for Donald J. Trump as they were a rejection of Kamala Harris because of her race and gender. At least that’s how I see it.
I am a Black woman. Nationally, 92 percent of Black women voted for Harris, compared to only 78 percent of Black men, and 44 percent and 61 percent of Latinos and Latinas, respectively. The numbers for white men and white women were 39 percent and 47 percent.
Beyond that is the fact that only 64 percent of the folks eligible to vote did so; eighty-nine million people didn’t vote. This, as much as anything, determined our fate in the presidential election and the so-called down ticket.
Now the post-election analysis is focusing on our differences. I choose to follow the example of Vice President Kamala “when we fight we win” Harris. After she lost the election, she urged her supporters to “wage this fight in quieter ways. In how you treat one another with kindness and respect, by always using your strength to lift people up, and ensuring everyone has the dignity that they deserve.”
And “everyone” includes our new President and Vice President-elect. I embrace being a “childless cat lady” with humor, having formed my family through adoption with three children and one grandchild.
I acknowledge that Trump and I have a great deal in common. If I wish to be seen and acknowledged as a human, I must also see and acknowledge his humanness.
I am a Blesbian (Black lesbian) Democrat, born in Manhattan, Kansas, the little apple in a flyover state. I was raised in the heart of Dixie, in Huntsville, Alabama, home of the U.S. Space & Rocket Center. George C. Wallace (“Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever”) was the first governor I was aware of.
Donald J. Trump is a white man, Republican, born in Queens, New York City, the Big Apple.
We have both been married three times and divorced twice. My first and second marriages were to the same woman. In 2004, then San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom directed the city clerk to issue same-sex marriage licenses. We got a license and were married. That marriage was voided by the California Supreme Court.
Both Trump and I have worked in the media. I worked for CBS as the director of communications and public affairs. (I also produced three television shows.) He was the producer and star of “The Apprentice” and “The Celebrity Apprentice.”
We both declared bankruptcy—me once, he multiple times.
Neither of us have served in the military.
We both have older siblings.
We both went to private schools—in my case because, despite the fact that Brown v. Board of Education was decided in 1954, the schools in Huntsville, Alabama, were not desegregated until 1969.
We both worked for our fathers—he in real estate, me in my father’s tax business.
Neither of us are members of SAG-AFTRA. He was permanently banned in 2021 after the January 6 attacks.
Neither of us attended the Biden/Harris Inauguration.
We both are credited with authoring books. Mine are not ghost-written.
We both went to Presbyterian churches—he to First Presbyterian Church in Jamaica, Queens, New York, me to Trinity Presbyterian church in Huntsville, Alabama.
We both wear ties. (Yes, I am one of those lesbians who wears a tie.)
Even if we don’t agree, I think it’s good that we acknowledge our similarities. That’s how we can become more united, as citizens of the United States of America. We can learn to fight in quieter ways, treating one another with kindness and respect, always looking for ways to lift people up.
This column was produced for Progressive Perspectives, a project of The Progressive magazine, and distributed by Tribune News Service.