As the dust settles on the presidential election, a specific ache resonates within the hearts of Black women across the country. Kamala Harris’s loss isn’t just a political defeat—it’s a profound blow to the vision of inclusion, ambition, and representation that she inspired across the nation. Harris’s place in the White House had come to symbolize something beyond political power; it stood as proof to Black women that we could not only participate in the political system but belong and thrive in any space, no matter how many times society told us that it wasn’t “meant” for us.
For Black women, the journey to being seen, heard, and respected has always been fraught. We are often told we are “essential,” that our votes, our activism, and our voices are the backbone of political victories. We are expected to show up, organize, and make a difference. From city councils to presidential elections, Black women have led the way in turning out the vote, inspiring others, and pushing for justice. Yet, as we watch Kamala Harris exit her role as Vice President, it feels as though our sacrifices and dedication have gone unreciprocated; our dreams of equality are pushed to the margins once again. She didn’t just make politics feel accessible—she made Black women feel like they could finally inhabit spaces previously closed to them. Harris showed that we belong at the highest levels of leadership, and that we can demand respect in boardrooms, courtrooms, and conference rooms, regardless of whether those spaces were originally designed with us in mind. For Black women, she embodied a sense of belonging that went beyond politics; she validated our right to take up space and to lead confidently, regardless of any preconceived barriers.
The pain of this moment goes beyond politics; it’s a wrenching reminder of how fragile our victories are. If even Harris—with her experience, resilience, and dedication—cannot retain a seat at the highest levels, what does that mean for the rest of us? Her departure stirs a question that resonates among Black women: Is there any space truly secure for us? But perhaps, what stings most about this loss is that it feels like a dismissal of the dreams Harris had stirred. She inspired Black women to break through the “not for you” mentalities ingrained by misogyny and racism. The message she sent was simple yet revolutionary: you belong here, even if the world says you don’t. Now, as she steps down, Black women are left wondering if the realization of that message has been set back.
And yet, even as we feel the weight of this loss, Black women are no strangers to bearing burdens and transforming pain into resilience. This moment may be painful, but Black women will continue to show up, vote, organize, and lead, even in a system that continues to challenge and sideline them. Harris has shown us the power of pushing beyond boundaries, of standing confidently in spaces that weren’t “meant” for us, and of redefining what it means to belong.
This article also appears in our print 2024 November edition.
