Trump's outreach to Black men hits a stumbling block: Kamala Harris

In the fifth grade, I ran for student body president. My campaign wasn’t inspired by the opportunity to serve my classmates but by the prestige and pride that came with the office. I was after the title, not the job. But my path to power started with our classroom primary, in which I had to defeat two other candidates — both girls — to win the nomination. As the teacher explained how ballots would be cast, the kid behind me whispered, "You’re gonna win. All the boys will vote for you and the girls will split theirs." He was right. Gender solidarity carried the day.

Politics are rarely that straightforward. Numerous factors shape voters’ choices: party, policy, peer pressure and social cues, race and gender, character and even physical attractiveness. Ultimately, our vote usually goes to the person we believe best represents the interests of people like us. That can be complicated. In 2008, when Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama were fighting for the Democratic presidential nomination, Black women faced a big question: What would be more meaningful to them — that the next president is Black, or that she’s a woman?

A few friends, each married to a Black woman, have recently recalled the conversations around that choice. Obama’s victory in the Iowa caucuses had made him viable, and among my friends’ wives, it was unanimous: A Black president meant more. Studies confirm their choice. Black women, more often than not, prioritize race over gender in their political decisions. Two-thirds of them supported Obama over Clinton for the nomination, and 96% voted for him on Election Day.

Black men supported Obama at the same rate, but gender made their decisions easier; they were twice as likely to hold unfavorable views of Clinton. Across racial groups, men typically believe they are better suited for politics than women. In the 2016 presidential election, Black men holding more conservative views on women’s roles in society and politics were less likely to vote — and, if they did, were slightly more likely to vote for Donald Trump than for Clinton.

As classroom nominee, I faced another girl in the presidential election. Her name was Ginny. Thinking gender politics was on my side, I was feeling pretty cocky. I skipped serious campaigning in favor of populist demagoguery straight from a sitcom script: Shorter school days! Soda in the water fountains! Ginny did the work and took the job more seriously. On Election Day, the contrast was stark and the choice, clear — for boys and girls alike. I lost in a landslide.

Today, Vice President Harris is the presumptive Democratic nominee. With race and gender aligned, she might be the only politician alive who can outperform Obama among Black women, the party’s most loyal constituency. The vast majority of voting Black men — upward of 80%, for decades — choose the Democratic nominee over the Republican one, no matter the candidates. Against President Biden this year, though, the Republican nominee’s campaign believed there was a real opportunity to win over enough of these men — or perhaps dissuade them from voting at all — to swing the election. Trump had been boasting of inroads made among these voters. But now, those men are being pulled in two directions, and, in an election that will likely be close, their choices will matter.

If Trump hopes that running against another woman gives him an advantage with persuadable Black men as it did in 2016, he should know that Black turnout typically increases when a Black Democrat is on the ballot. And that racial solidarity shapes Black men’s voting behavior more than gender bias. In the days after Harris announced her candidacy, more than 50,000 Black men registered for a virtual event in her support, and one-third of them donated to her campaign, amounting to more than $1 million. In less than a week, Trump’s progress with Black voters seems to have been wiped out.

Affinity can be complicated in politics. In 2019, during her first presidential campaign, Harris took heat for having worked as a prosecutor in a criminal justice system that has treated Black Americans unjustly. At the time, she stressed the importance of representation and defended her role, saying, "It matters who’s in those rooms where the decisions are being made." Trump, on the other hand, has suggested that he has an advantage with Black voters because of his experiences on the receiving end of the criminal courts, including having his mug shot taken, indictments and 34 felony convictions. The implied appeal is laden with stereotypes: Which do you prefer — a man who has been in your shoes or a woman who hasn’t?

I learned a lot about service and character through my loss to Ginny — a girl, more qualified and by far the better choice. Now, as a more serious adult, I’ve discussed politics and policy with people holding important titles and big jobs, from the military to the White House. Among a few friends and family — Black men who have had brushes with the law — Trump’s claim of solidarity falls flat. Uninspired by the previous candidates, they’re now leaning toward the former prosecutor, the Black woman who has been in the rooms where their interests are at stake.