Kamala Harris: Blazing A Trail for Black Women to Follow
By Sen. Jennifer McClellan
“You can be whatever you want to be,” they told me, “but you’re going to have to work twice as hard.” How many times have you heard that? Growing up as a Black girl in the South, my parents raised me with a mixture of hope and realism. They each grew up in the segregated South during the Great Depression and Jim Crow — Mom in the Gulf Coast of Mississippi, Dad alternating between Nashville, Tennessee and rural Alabama. They had fought for and seen so much change by the time I was born in 1972. But, they also saw the challenges ahead for the first generation beneficiaries of the Civil Rights Movement and that their victories would have to be vigilantly protected.
That is the reality of the intersectionality of barriers that Black women in America understand all too well. For 401 years, Black women have been the backbone of American society, for a long time hidden in the background and among the last to benefit from progress. This is particularly true of our democracy and government.
Last night, a glass ceiling was shattered when Kamala Harris accepted the nomination to be the first Black and Asian-American woman on a major party presidential ticket. It was a moment of pride and empowerment for the Black women who repeatedly have been told to ‘wait your turn’ or to find happiness with someone else’s win.
It is also a moment of hope. Millions of young women and girls — like my 5-year-old daughter, Samantha — have never seen someone who looks like them on the national stage. Today, Sen. Harris is walking proof that WE belong.
As an elected official and a candidate for Governor, I felt inspired by the moment. Black women are used to being the first — or one of the few — at every juncture of our careers. In politics, we are often working from playbooks that were not written by or for us. Our role models become fewer and farther between the higher we go. Sen. Harris is one of two Black women to have served as U.S. Senator. Less than 30 to have been elected to statewide office. No Black woman has ever served as governor in American history.
Last night, Kamala Harris shone as a beacon of hope for women and girls of color to follow into positions of leadership in America. She inspired me. Even more importantly, she inspired a girl you’ve never heard of, watching somewhere in America, to follow the path Kamala is blazing. Because she belongs there.
That path has been forged out of 401 years of oppression. Black women’s bodies, work and souls were used to fuel this country since our arrival upon these shores. For too long, we were not allowed a say in the direction that America goes. And in every movement for progress, we were there, often relegated to the back or the shadows, but we were there. The Founders of my sorority, Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., were told to march in the back of The Woman Suffrage Procession in 1913, and even in 1963 at the March on Washington, women were denied a speaking role. But now we are seeing the change. As Senator Harris said last night, her presence on the national stage is “a testament to the dedication of generations before me — women and men who believed so fiercely in the promise of equality, liberty and justice for all.” We stand on the shoulders of those who’ve come before us and sacrificed for us.
But, America still has a long way to go for Black women’s experiences to be centered in public policy. Every day, Black women in America live under systems built by and for white men. Senator Harris and I belong to the first generation to benefit from the Civil Rights Era; we don’t face the same legal barriers as our parents did, but we do face significant structural barriers to success.
Senator Harris’ service as Vice President would bring critical lived experience to the nation’s overdue discussion on how to remove structural inequity in our political, economic, education, health care and criminal justice systems.
For example, up until this year, domestic workers — disproportionately women of color — could still be paid sub-minimum wage and be denied basic worker protections in Virginia under a relic of Jim Crow-era laws. In 2020, I was proud to carry the Domestic Workers Bill of Rights, which affords worker protections to 60,000 Virginia domestic workers. Senator Harris has proposed a similar bill nationwide, which Joe Biden has included as part of his Caregiving and Educator Workforce plan. Having Kamala Harris as the Vice President would ensure that policies rooted in Black women’s experience have a central place in America’s policymaking.
As I watched Senator Harris accept the nomination last night, I also thought of the difficult moments in the months — and hopefully, years — ahead with her in the public spotlight. Within hours of her election, Republicans were circulating racist birther smears against her and by the next day, there were memes centered around sexist slurs.
Throughout her career, Sen. Harris has reacted with grace, persistence and joy to the unique challenges that Black women face. And she has worked to help uplift other Black women. The very first time I met Senator Harris I mentioned to her that I was considering a statewide race in Virginia. She immediately grabbed my arm and started introducing me to people I needed to know and told them they needed to help me. Last year, when I launched a PAC to help take back the majority in the Virginia General Assembly, she helped by doing an email for me. And sitting with her at last year’s Congressional Black Caucus Phoenix Awards Dinner, her message had not wavered. She graciously talked of her experiences running statewide and gave her advice. I left feeling encouraged by a woman who had blazed a trail and gave time to help others follow in her footsteps.
Now, it’s up to us to make sure that more and more footsteps follow this trail. When my daughter, Samantha, is old enough to vote — because of Kamala, and hopefully because of me — she’ll never have to doubt whether America is ready for her leadership. She will know that she can be whatever she wants to be — because she belongs there. We belong.
