What Black America learned from the reelection of Donald Trump
The central lesson from the election's results: African Americans are virtually on our own, and as bad as that might feel, as lonely as it might be, it’s the truth.
Many in the Black community have learned a simple but valuable lesson from Donald Trump’s resounding political victory: Sometimes, you have to walk alone.
Those who claim to have your back are often in it for themselves. Those who claim to know your pain aren’t familiar with your struggle. Those who say they understand are unaware of how you feel, and whatever you are dealing with is all on you.
That’s where Black people find ourselves now, because Trump’s agenda, as laid out in Project 2025, would harm us by dismantling the very federal agencies that safeguard us from discrimination at the state and local levels. African Americans knew that, and that’s why 83% of Black voters supported Kamala Harris.
The numbers show that our so-called allies didn’t see it that way. Now, as Trump threatens the civil rights gains our ancestors died for, Black people must face a hurtful reality: We’re on our own.
The Associated Press Votecast tells us that Latino support for Trump surged from 35% in 2020 to 43% this year, despite his incessant targeting of Latino immigrants. Fifty-three percent of white women voted for the former president, even after he bragged about overturning Roe v. Wade.
And while the vast majority of Black voters supported Harris, about three in 10 Black men under 45 cast their ballots for Trump. That’s double the percentage of young Black men who supported him in 2020, which is ironic because young Black men are statistically most likely to be killed by police, and Trump wants to bolster police immunity.
In my view, there were many who voted against their own interests on Election Day, and while my media colleagues trotted out alternative explanations, I believe the results were driven by racism and misogyny. America did not want a woman as president, especially a woman who is Black and South Asian. The numbers among men bear that out.
In a country where white people make up 75% of the electorate, six in 10 white men voted for Trump, and Latino men split almost evenly between the candidates. Black men voted overwhelmingly for Harris, but the 25% who voted for Trump is twice the percentage Trump got four years ago.
In essence, the majority of Black men supported Harris, while other men supported the male candidate. Maybe that doesn’t completely prove that race and gender drove men’s voting decisions. However, it does show that Black women must continue their fight for equality, that Black men must support them along the way, and that the alliances we thought we had with other groups are weak at best.
White women showed that their support of Trump remained steady, even after he undermined reproductive rights. Latinos voted for Trump in greater numbers, even as their community could be split by his draconian immigration policies. The LGBTQ community was seemingly silent as Trump ran anti-trans commercials around the clock in the run-up to his victory.
African Americans are virtually on our own, and as bad as that might feel, as lonely as it might be, it’s the truth. And there’s one thing we know about the truth: It hurts.
The alliances we thought we had with other groups are weak at best.
But after the pain of realizing your so-called friends abandoned you in the struggle, the only thing left to do is look up. Look up and realize you can still see what’s above you. Look up and know there’s light to guide you through the darkness. Look up and realize you’re strong.
I know everyone’s saying that Black people have made it through tough times before, and that’s true. But I want to talk about right now because right now is what matters most.
Right now, Black people must learn to lean on each other again. That means finding a Black business to patronize, finding a Black child to mentor, finding a Black elder to learn from, and finding a Black neighbor to love.
We’ve been carrying America on our backs for so long that our community has developed a robust emotional musculature, a brand of resilience that has been hard-earned over the past 405 years. And it’s a good thing we have that kind of strength — because right now, we need it to carry us.