In the short-lived science fiction television series Firefly, Capt. Malcolm Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) finds himself being interrogated by an operative of the Alliance, the show’s oppressive, autocratic regime. The interviewer brings up Reynolds’ background as a soldier for the Resistance, noting how he had lost the war with the Alliance.
“May have been the losing side,” Reynolds says. “Still not convinced it was the wrong one.”
I’ve thought about that quote a lot since 2016. We might have been the losing side that year (even if only on a technicality), but history has shown, and continues to show, we were definitely not on the wrong side. One of the hardest lessons in life to learn is that one can be right and still end up losing (to paraphrase yet another sci-fi show in Star Trek: The Next Generation).
All things considered, I think I had a pretty good education; I was a public school kid in Virginia, in the pre-standardized testing era (I graduated in 1999). Our history lessons were incomplete, given the state was still very much feeling its Southern roots (and all that entails).
Still, my history and social studies teachers (who were almost exclusively Black women) made sure I at least had a 101-level understanding of the role race played in America’s history. These teachers would be decried as woke today.
As such, I’ve always been a relatively race-conscious person (especially when my career took me to the Historically Black College and University [HBCU] space for 15 years). One of the reasons I was so proud to cast my ballot for Barack Obama in 2008—and again in 2012—was because I understood the history that was taking place. A nation that would’ve had someone like Obama in shackles less than two centuries prior instead sent him to the White House.
Not once, but twice.
I recall, in the lead-up to the 2008 election, all the questions asking if we were ready to elect a Black man to the presidency. We overwhelmingly answered that we were (and by we, I mean Americans of every stripe, because my fellow whites were… not reliable in that regard). We were so comfortable with a Black man as president, we re-elected him.
In hindsight, perhaps we should’ve anticipated the backlash that ultimately led to President Obama’s successor. After all, our entire history is littered with monumental progress toward equality, followed by catastrophic backlash.
Still, I’m proud to have voted for President Obama. It’s almost enough to make up for my vote in 2000 (emphasis on almost).
Likewise, I was proud of my vote in 2016. I wasn’t one of those who held my nose in voting for Hillary Clinton (or worse, cast my ballot for one of the nonsense third partiers). Clinton wasn’t just the better option compared to her opponent, and she wasn’t just a logical continuation of all the good President Obama had done in the eight years prior. She was the right choice on the merits of her policies and her temperament and her experience.
And again, this was history in the making. Or rather, it should’ve been.
The question persisted anew; is the country ready to elect a woman as president? The history books will say no, but the fact that Clinton, who had also served as First Lady, Senator and Secretary of State, earned nearly three million more popular votes than her opponent says otherwise.
So now, we’re being asked if the nation is ready for a Black woman to be president.
Last Monday, I answered in the affirmative in Virginia. It’s my hope that at least 90 million others agree with me (I really want 100 million, but I’m trying not to get greedy). I’m not naive enough to think Vice President Kamala Harris being a Black woman won’t be an issue for anyone, but I do hope there are enough of us—of all ages, races, genders and religious affiliations—to set the nation on the right course.
I didn’t vote for Obama or Clinton or Harris because of their race and/or gender; they were candidates and politicians whose views largely aligned with my own. Far more than what the Republican Party was offering. The racial and gender components were simply historic icing on the cake.
Will Harris win? I think so, but I don’t know for sure.
What I do know is, the alternative… this wouldn’t simply be a lost election. This would potentially be an entire reshaping of our country, in a way that would only benefit an increasingly small subset of our population at the expense of, quite literally, everyone else. I have no idea what fighting back would look like, or how effective it would be, but I know I’d have no choice but to do it.
Still, let's not chance that, shall we?
Let’s finish the assignment we should’ve in 2016. Let’s make sure we’re on the winning side and the right side.
