Noman is an island,” the English poet John Donne wrote, arguing that “every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main.” And yet, such an analogy doesn’t seem to apply to Black Americans, as they’ve been uniquely targeted and discriminated against rather than embraced as part of the whole. Many feel isolated, a sentiment further inflamed by Donald Trump’s victory. While some will argue, as James Carville did in 1992, “it’s the economy, stupid,” to explain voters' choices, such rhetoric masks a more sinister motivation — racism. Some Americans voted for Trump to protest Black leadership and women’s rights. Casting their ballot was an undeniable rejection of a multiracial democracy.
As the dust settled, some argued that Democrats failed to attract “working-class voters.” Yet, this argument overlooks the racial history of America’s elections, namely that the Democratic party has never won the majority of White voters since Lyndon Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 into law. There’s a racial undercurrent that many discount in favor of emphasizing the economy. When running for office, Kamala Harris announced a plan to provide $25,000 for first-time homebuyers, raise the minimum wage to a living wage, and increase access to child and elder care, all of which would have improved living conditions for working-class Americans regardless of race.
The notion that Trump’s victory resulted from most of his supporters making a difficult decision to improve their economic conditions doesn’t hold water. According to sixteen Nobel prize-winning economists who signed a letter last month, Trump’s economic plans would have “a destabilizing effect on the U.S.’s domestic economy.” For instance, the American public was warned that high tariffs on imported goods would raise consumer prices. So, even if some genuinely believed that re-electing Trump would be better for the economy, this presumption was unfounded at best and, at worse, a race-neutral excuse for supporting a candidate who espoused bigotry toward various groups. Far too many journalists have lent racists a safe haven under the guise of economic anxiety.
Princeton professor Eddie Glaude noted on the MSNBC show The 11th Hour that those claiming the election results only reflect voters’ economic concerns are wrong. Like many Black Americans, he wasn’t convinced that economic angst led to Trump’s victory. While it’s a hard pill for some to swallow, many voters were attracted to the bigotry Trump and his supporters espoused throughout his campaign. We cannot remove Tuesday’s election from the broader context of America electing its first Black president in 2008. Since then, a movement of white backlash has taken hold in this country.
Consider that the All Lives Matter Movement sprung out of racist opposition to the Black Lives Matter Movement. White Americans responded to Black people encouraging one another to “stay woke” by passing anti-woke laws. The response to Black lawyers using critical race theory to examine the legal, social, and economic consequences of racism was the passage of anti-critical race theory laws banning discussions about racism in K-12 classrooms. Pursuing diversity, equity, and inclusion has been met with anti-DEI statutes and policies. Framing the election as one only inspired by economic anxiety overlooks the blatant, systemic effort to silence discussions about race and racism in the post-civil rights era.
In response to the host, Stephanie Ruhle, who argued most Americans didn’t like his rhetoric but chose him because of the economy, Glaude noted: “I don’t believe that. The reason I think you believe it is because you don’t want to believe that that’s what’s really motivating them.” “People don’t want to believe what this country actually is. Because they’d have to confront that,” he argued. By refusing to acknowledge the role racism played in this election, white Americans are failing to bear witness to its prevalence. Whether intentional or not, such colorblind perspectives only further isolate Black people. Joshua Zeitz, a contributing editor for Politico, noted in a 2017 article that "Working-class white families affirmatively enjoyed what the historian George Lipsitz termed a “possessive investment in whiteness.” In his book, Lipsitz argued that white people in the United States have both a material and psychological incentive to maintain the racial hierarchy, which is manifested in policies regarding housing, education, and employment.
Many are unwilling to acknowledge a white elephant is sitting in the room with us and that racism impacts American life, from the level of resources your neighborhood school receives to who wins a seat in the Oval Office. And since most white people, currently America’s largest demographic group, are unwilling to confront the racism at the heart of our nation, Black people are left alone, stranded despite living in an incredibly wealthy country. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said it best on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, “The Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty amid a vast ocean of material prosperity.” He voiced the frustration of many Black Americans who felt sorely abandoned by their country. King expressed with great sorrow that “a hundred years after slavery,” the black community remained “crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.” Despite a myriad of allies attending the Million Man March, he asserted that Black people felt utterly alone in their fight rather than reassured by their sparse presence.
Far too often, Black Americans have been left to fend for themselves. As King’s metaphor suggested, it’s a cruel injustice that they are deprived of wealth and resources in a wealthy nation. That they are the group of working-class voters routinely ignored. Trump’s victory was a painful reminder for some that people outside their group rarely come to their aid. And when they do, it’s scattered and ineffectual. Despite the nation profiting from their ancestors’ stolen labor and segregation and discrimination cementing this unjust racial hierarchy that placed Black families at a disadvantage, they’re accused of asking for a “handout” whenever seeking restorative justice. There’s a Grand Canyon-sized divide between how Black Americans and their white counterparts see this country. And Trump’s victory has only served to broaden divisions, even beyond the white-black divide.
Since more Latinos supported Donald Trump than not in this last election, some have expressed concern the results could damage multiracial coalitions. Elie Mystal posted online that he worried about the impact this election would have on the “solidarity between people of color,” arguing that “watching Latinos chase model minority status has never sat *well* with black people, but this is a wound the Black community won’t soon forget.” Responses to the election results seemingly proved him right. A Black artist from Detroit, Jerel, shared his takeaway from this election: “white people, en masse, will do anything to protect whiteness. Men, en masse, will do anything to protect patriarchy.” And that “Non-Black people of color, en masse, will do anything to align themselves with whiteness.”
DeRay McKesson, a civil rights activist, noted there are several lessons Americans can learn as well, noting that while “black people consistently vote pragmatically,” “other minority groups want to be white and will vote alongside white interests even when it hurts them.”
A Black poet, Olivia Pope, shared a comment that seemingly confirmed Elie Mystal’s concern, saying, “I bet I don’t advocate for another ‘POC’ issue again. If it ain’t black business, it ain’t my business. Good day.” To some, her response may sound snarky, but take a deeper look, and you will see the black community is incredibly exhausted from fighting an uphill battle not just because of white people but people of color who align with whiteness. As a result, some no longer see the benefits of aligning with other marginalized groups. The seismic shift could be observed not just among the damaged relations between Black people and other racial minorities but also along gender lines. Black women, for instance, responded to efforts to organize a women’s march in Washington, D.C., to protest the ascension of Donald Trump, with overwhelming rejection. They argued that the time to protest was before the election when there was hope to secure women’s rights, not now, as only a superficial surface-level show of opposition.
The majority of White women and Latino men supporting Trump has compromised the integrity of the multiracial coalition that elected former president Obama or even Biden four years ago. The damage to these groups’ trust and willingness to work together is palatable. When Joy Reid, a Black MSNBC host, shared her opinion that Latino men who voted for Trump “own everything that happens to your mixed-status families,” reporter Jack Herrera responded that “these sorts of takes” are damaging the party’s relationship “with Latinos.” Author Elie Mystal responded to Herrera, “I don’t think Democrats and their allies appreciate the damage these voters have done with Black people, the most loyal voters in the Democratic coalition.” Coalitions are being re-organized as a result of the last election. The shift in rhetoric within the black community is reflective of the betrayal many felt after the election exposed their frayed coalition.
As an added injury, many Black Americans have received hate mail in the form of text messages ordering them to pick cotton since the election, a menacing sign of the way Trump’s victory has emboldened racists. One such message sent to my friend Kenya read, “Our 2024 presidential elect, Donald J Trump, has scheduled you for the weekend cotton picking shift from 11/9–24–11/10–24 from 12:00pm to 4:30 PM at Plantation A. Be prepared and ready to pick diligently.” While many are dismissing these mass texts as jokes, we should keep in mind these are threatening when sent to Black Americans with enslaved ancestors. The FBI is currently investigating this event as a series of potential hate crimes. These texts have had a chilling effect, as many worry racism will be encouraged under the Trump administration. Such messages have contributed to the feeling of isolation.
Inauguration Day next year falls on Dr. Martin Luther King Day, a painful irony given that most Black voters opposed Donald Trump, the former president who won re-election on Tuesday. During this federal holiday, Americans typically reflect upon the life and legacy of the famed civil rights leader. However, the nation will also turn its eyes to Washington D.C. for another reason on January 20th, the second inauguration of Trump, whose life’s work provides a strange juxtaposition when placed alongside King's. While Trump is a man who has enjoyed privilege through his race and wealth, King was a man who endured segregation, physical assault, and numerous arrests for challenging a racist system. Seeing this holiday unfold on inauguration may, once again, contribute to the feeling that Black Americans are alone.
They feel frustrated with a nation that can’t seem to walk a straight line when it comes to racial progress. Two steps forward are often followed by three steps back, a pattern that’s failed to convince the global community of our sincerity. If every effort to secure civil rights is undone every four years, then this nation lacks the necessary stability to say it has values. We only aspire to find values we can coalesce around. For many people, racism was not a red line. Indeed, if anti-racism were a sobriety test for America, then the re-election of Donald Trump shows the nation has failed — it’s intoxicated. And while not everyone is sipping from the cup of bigotry flowing from the far-right political movement, the country has collectively failed. And now we find ourselves as Americans, cuffed to a felon and reflecting on the choices that led us here.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Allison Gaines' work on Medium.