A Letter to Kamala

“Do not forget that the White House in which you stand was built by slaves. Do not forget that the blood of Native Americans courses through the soil on which you walk. Do not forget that colonial violence destroys more than just individuals: it destroys families, destroys hope, destroys futures.”

This year will be the first time I can vote in the US presidential elections. Vice President Kamala Harris is the new democratic candidate. Like me, she’s a black woman who I yearn to support, and I wish this election could be about righting the wrongs of the 2016 elections. An election that, yes, was imperfect but nonetheless shrouded in misogyny and bigotry towards Hillary Clinton. A woman who was consistently asked to answer for the wrongs of her husband, who was held to double standards throughout, and who was mocked on conservative news channels for her looks, her voice, and her “nagging.” Kamala is not immune to this sexism either which is then coupled by blatant racism with comments from Trump questioning if Kamala Harris is even a black woman. I wish I could stand behind Kamala 100%, focusing on how amazing it would be to have, after 235 years a black, female president. It would be amazing. I would love to support her.

But I can’t.

In her campaign announcement, over an anthem calling for Freedom and resistance, Kamala says,

“we choose freedom… the freedom to be safe… the freedom to make decisions about your body… we choose a future where no child lives in poverty… where no one is above the law.”

This may sound emancipatory, but I implore you, Kamala, freedom for who? Certainly you haven’t chosen freedom for the people of Gaza. You haven’t provided safety to the over 40,000 Palestinians who have been killed in this genocide. The only bodily autonomy you’ve provided to Palestinians is on which limb they should write their family name in hopes that their dead body is identified. Instead of removing poverty, you have ensured that future generations will spend the next decade rebuilding their businesses, their homes, and tehir families. You talk about respecting the law as if you have not been aiding, abetting, and funding a genocidal tyrant since the moment you stepped into office.

As a biracial woman, I am angry that you are supposed to be my black heroine. Do not forget that the White House in which you stand was built by slaves. Do not forget that the blood of Native Americans courses through the soil on which you walk. Do not forget that colonial violence destroys more than just individuals: it destroys families, destroys hope, destroys futures.

In America, my race has always begged the question of loyalty. The black community questions my ability to relate to them; they point out that lighter skin has always been an advantage in the eyes of the oppressor. “Do you even know what it’s like to be Black? Do you even know what We go through?”

To the white community, my lighter skin has never meant much. After all, black skin is still black when it’s shrouded in flashing red and blue police lights, as my hands shake in place on the steering wheel. Just where my dad taught me to place them when I was 8 years old. “No sudden movements,” he warned, “you don’t want to frighten them.”

So, please Kamala, do not let this disdain be a measure of which side I’m choosing. Instead, let this be a reminder of what a black woman who fought for your right to be the presidential candidate, Fannie Lou Hamer, said, “no one can be free, until everyone is free.” Instead of assisting in the liberation of black women, you have made them complicit in settler colonialism, in genocide, in the same hatred you claim differentiates you from Trump. You actively oppress and support the oppression of Palestinian women and girls, children who will never know what it’s like to grow up with a mother. Infants whose first breath will be heavy with smoke from the bombs that fall from the sky like rain. You do not get to be a feminist, a women’s rights advocate, an activist for communities of color only some of the time. Only on days where your paychecks aren’t written by your fourth largest trading partner in weapons and military sales.

You talk about “Black Lives Matter” while funding the genocide of the Palestinian people as if these two causes have not always been intertwined. The wall that cages in Bethlehem is decorated with 15 foot tall murals of George Floyd for a reason. For decades, black pastors and community leaders have been preaching about the liberation of the Palestinian people for a reason. The struggle for liberation is not a struggle you can adopt for an election so you can go right back to funding an ethnic supremacist. The moment you choose freedom, safety, and justice for Palestinians will be the moment I believe the buzz words you slapped over a Beyonce song. Until then, do not speak of a freedom you never intended to fight for.