What Donald Trump Fails to Grasp About Race in America
The article, titled "I’m Black. So is Kamala Harris," explores the author's personal reflections on the significance of Vice President Kamala Harris's identity as a Black woman. It delves into the emotional and cultural impact that her position holds for the author and the larger Black community, highlighting how representation in high political offices can inspire and resonate deeply. Through this narrative, the article underscores the transformative power of seeing someone who looks like you in positions of authority and influence.
TroibNews 
In the early 2000s, I found myself frequently traveling for work, leading to a passport filled with stamps and a perpetually packed suitcase. It was 4 a.m., and I was in a taxi heading to Dulles Airport, hoping to catch some sleep. My West African driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror and asked, "What are you?"
I replied, "Excuse me?" His question was repeated, so I answered, "I’m Black."
"I do not believe you!" he exclaimed, suggesting other ethnicities like Latina, South Asian, or Middle Eastern. "You look like your mother is white and your father is Black," he added.
"They’re Black, too," I responded.
"Then how do you account for your white appearance?" he spat.
With my curly hair, honey-brown skin, and distinctive nose, I have been mistaken for various ethnicities, yet being told I had a "white appearance" was a first. This wasn't the first time I encountered the "what-are-you" question, but it was too early in the morning for such a conversation.
"Slavery," I said, and that finally ended the grilling.
I've been reflecting on that conversation recently due to the resurfacing debate over Kamala Harris' racial identity. Questions about whether she is Black or Indian, and what she really is, have gained attention again. At the National Association of Black Journalists conference in Chicago, former President Donald Trump made a controversial statement about her identity.
The audience was shocked, and so was I.
This tactic isn't new; politicians have long used race to undermine their opponents. In 1920, Democrat opponents spread rumors about Republican Warren Harding's alleged Black ancestry, casting a shadow over his career. For much of American history, even a trace of African ancestry was enough to classify someone as Black, which could ruin careers, marriages, and lives. Today, ironically, some accuse others of fabricating their Blackness or not being "fully Black" if they have mixed racial backgrounds.
The challenge with deciding who qualifies as Black is tied to the many ways Blackness manifests in America, largely due to slavery.
I identify as Black and come from a lineage of Black-identifying parents and grandparents. Generations back, white ancestry is evident in our family tree, as seen in our physical traits and genetic tests. We result from centuries of racial mixing, descendants of both enslaved and enslavers. In the U.S., that history makes us, unequivocally, Black.
Kamala Harris, with her mixed heritage, embodies a similar story. Her Jamaican roots come from a similar legacy of slavery, making racial mixing integral to Black identity in the Americas. The longer you have been in this country, the more likely you are to be of mixed race, evident in historically mixed-race communities across the U.S., from Louisiana Creoles to Punjabi-Mexicans.
African Americans, on average, have about 25% European ancestry, though some of us have more. My family, for instance, ranges from 49-70% European. One of my closest friends, a biracial Black woman, fears DNA tests might reveal very little African ancestry, despite her firm African American identity.
Historically, "mixed" wasn't an option in America; even a drop of African blood made someone legally Black, subjecting them to systemic oppression. Whiteness was defined by the absence of Blackness, but Blackness has never excluded whiteness. Prominent Black figures often have mixed-race backgrounds, including Frederick Douglass and Malcolm X.
Being Black with roots in antebellum America is tied to slavery's legacy, a story of forced servitude and sex. Many Americans forget this aspect of history, as if racial mixing began with the 1967 Loving v. Virginia ruling.
Immigrants like Barack Obama and Kamala Harris complicate this narrative. Their experiences of interracial love are markedly different from those with deep American roots in slavery. Although both identify as Black, they also embrace their mixed heritage. Their stories offer an exotic narrative, creating both hope and bias. Obama faced claims of inauthenticity, spurred by accusations about his birthplace and religion. Harris has been similarly scrutinized, with critics questioning her rise, dismissing her as a "DEI hire."
Some argue neither Obama nor Harris are truly Black. This skepticism sometimes comes from within the Black community itself. For example, Ben Carson once questioned Obama's connection to Black Americans, while Jason Whitlock rejected Harris's Black identity.
Harris’s Jamaican ancestry, descending from a slave-owning family, also fuels this debate. Yet, being a descendant of slave-owners doesn’t negate Black identity—it’s part of the complex Black experience.
Accusations about racial identity often aim to discredit political figures. Painting someone as racially inauthentic undermines their trustworthiness. However, Blackness in America encompasses a vast range of experiences, uniting us as a political force.
Trump might feel the need to undermine Harris's identity, possibly fearing she could sway Black voters back to the Democratic side.
Race is a social construct with real-life impact, influencing marriage, residence, voting rights, education, and more. Most Black Americans navigate multiple identities, a legacy of the one-drop rule that historically defined even minimal African ancestry as Black. Light-skinned individuals often found certain privileges due to their appearance.
Historically, some light-skinned Black individuals passed as white, seeking better opportunities but living secretive lives. Despite this, Black individuals can often recognize each other, even when others are fooled.
Blackness varies globally, as seen in different terms used across countries. Kamala Harris embodies this dual identity, comfortable with her Indian and Black heritage.
She knows who she is. Harris has emphasized pride in both her South Asian and Black roots, instilled by her mother. Her self-identification as Black is clear and unwavering.
"We can — and should — take her word for it."
Olivia Brown contributed to this report for TROIB News
I replied, "Excuse me?" His question was repeated, so I answered, "I’m Black."
"I do not believe you!" he exclaimed, suggesting other ethnicities like Latina, South Asian, or Middle Eastern. "You look like your mother is white and your father is Black," he added.
"They’re Black, too," I responded.
"Then how do you account for your white appearance?" he spat.
With my curly hair, honey-brown skin, and distinctive nose, I have been mistaken for various ethnicities, yet being told I had a "white appearance" was a first. This wasn't the first time I encountered the "what-are-you" question, but it was too early in the morning for such a conversation.
"Slavery," I said, and that finally ended the grilling.
I've been reflecting on that conversation recently due to the resurfacing debate over Kamala Harris' racial identity. Questions about whether she is Black or Indian, and what she really is, have gained attention again. At the National Association of Black Journalists conference in Chicago, former President Donald Trump made a controversial statement about her identity.
The audience was shocked, and so was I.
This tactic isn't new; politicians have long used race to undermine their opponents. In 1920, Democrat opponents spread rumors about Republican Warren Harding's alleged Black ancestry, casting a shadow over his career. For much of American history, even a trace of African ancestry was enough to classify someone as Black, which could ruin careers, marriages, and lives. Today, ironically, some accuse others of fabricating their Blackness or not being "fully Black" if they have mixed racial backgrounds.
The challenge with deciding who qualifies as Black is tied to the many ways Blackness manifests in America, largely due to slavery.
I identify as Black and come from a lineage of Black-identifying parents and grandparents. Generations back, white ancestry is evident in our family tree, as seen in our physical traits and genetic tests. We result from centuries of racial mixing, descendants of both enslaved and enslavers. In the U.S., that history makes us, unequivocally, Black.
Kamala Harris, with her mixed heritage, embodies a similar story. Her Jamaican roots come from a similar legacy of slavery, making racial mixing integral to Black identity in the Americas. The longer you have been in this country, the more likely you are to be of mixed race, evident in historically mixed-race communities across the U.S., from Louisiana Creoles to Punjabi-Mexicans.
African Americans, on average, have about 25% European ancestry, though some of us have more. My family, for instance, ranges from 49-70% European. One of my closest friends, a biracial Black woman, fears DNA tests might reveal very little African ancestry, despite her firm African American identity.
Historically, "mixed" wasn't an option in America; even a drop of African blood made someone legally Black, subjecting them to systemic oppression. Whiteness was defined by the absence of Blackness, but Blackness has never excluded whiteness. Prominent Black figures often have mixed-race backgrounds, including Frederick Douglass and Malcolm X.
Being Black with roots in antebellum America is tied to slavery's legacy, a story of forced servitude and sex. Many Americans forget this aspect of history, as if racial mixing began with the 1967 Loving v. Virginia ruling.
Immigrants like Barack Obama and Kamala Harris complicate this narrative. Their experiences of interracial love are markedly different from those with deep American roots in slavery. Although both identify as Black, they also embrace their mixed heritage. Their stories offer an exotic narrative, creating both hope and bias. Obama faced claims of inauthenticity, spurred by accusations about his birthplace and religion. Harris has been similarly scrutinized, with critics questioning her rise, dismissing her as a "DEI hire."
Some argue neither Obama nor Harris are truly Black. This skepticism sometimes comes from within the Black community itself. For example, Ben Carson once questioned Obama's connection to Black Americans, while Jason Whitlock rejected Harris's Black identity.
Harris’s Jamaican ancestry, descending from a slave-owning family, also fuels this debate. Yet, being a descendant of slave-owners doesn’t negate Black identity—it’s part of the complex Black experience.
Accusations about racial identity often aim to discredit political figures. Painting someone as racially inauthentic undermines their trustworthiness. However, Blackness in America encompasses a vast range of experiences, uniting us as a political force.
Trump might feel the need to undermine Harris's identity, possibly fearing she could sway Black voters back to the Democratic side.
Race is a social construct with real-life impact, influencing marriage, residence, voting rights, education, and more. Most Black Americans navigate multiple identities, a legacy of the one-drop rule that historically defined even minimal African ancestry as Black. Light-skinned individuals often found certain privileges due to their appearance.
Historically, some light-skinned Black individuals passed as white, seeking better opportunities but living secretive lives. Despite this, Black individuals can often recognize each other, even when others are fooled.
Blackness varies globally, as seen in different terms used across countries. Kamala Harris embodies this dual identity, comfortable with her Indian and Black heritage.
She knows who she is. Harris has emphasized pride in both her South Asian and Black roots, instilled by her mother. Her self-identification as Black is clear and unwavering.
"We can — and should — take her word for it."
Olivia Brown contributed to this report for TROIB News
