VP Kamala Harris’ Ascension And Derailment To The White House Is The Tale Of Many Black Women, Including Myself –
November 7, 2024
Dr. Dionne Mahaffey reflects on VP Kamala Harris’ derailed journey to the White House.
Written by Dr. Dionne Mahaffey
My heart feels heavy. My mind races, and I can’t help but think about what this new era under Donald Trump means for me—and for women who look like me, and who wanted Vice President Kamala Harris to win, not just for her policies, her competence, or her historic significance. We wanted her to win because, as a Black woman, her presence at the helm would have been a powerful statement to a country that so often seems unwilling to recognize our strength, talent, and humanity.
Madame Harris’s candidacy was deeply personal. Black women identified with her story, her rise, her spirit. She was raised in a single-mother household, just as I was. She is my sorority sister. I felt hope in the idea that for the first time a Black woman was on the brink of true power, no longer just adjacent to it. She represented all the things we’re so often told we can’t be: brilliant, unapologetically ambitious, compassionate, yet fiercely independent. Her presence defied the “angry Black woman” trope, and her resilience reminded us of the countless ways Black women have long been pillars of American progress.
But that dream feels deferred now. Trump’s victory brings back a familiar fear. His administration has always signaled disregard for racial equity and women’s rights. We’ve seen what happens when hard-won protections are dismantled: voting rights compromised, policing becomes more aggressive, healthcare access limited, and social justice sidelined. As a Black woman, these shifts are not abstract political moves; they are matters of survival and dignity. The rhetoric that surrounds us is a direct reflection of how safe, valued, or vulnerable we feel in our own country.
With Trump’s win comes the specter of Project 2025—a conservative roadmap that could severely restrict civil rights, healthcare access, and economic resources, particularly for Black Americans. The proposed cuts and restructuring of healthcare, housing, and education are poised to roll back years of progress and disproportionately harm marginalized communities. In my work, I see the potential impact on Black-owned businesses, which already face huge hurdles in accessing capital. My clients—small business owners who have poured everything into their ventures—now worry about survival in an economy that could sideline them even further. Their fears echo my own, highlighting the reality we know all too well: for us, progress is never linear, and it is certainly not guaranteed.
Twice As Good
But she didn’t win. Black women, we know, often have to be twice as good to get half as far. Instead, America chose a felon over an experienced Black woman, and that stings. His win triggered memories from my own career, when I started my first job in tech over 30 years ago. I earned an impressive six-figure salary, only to learn that my white male counterpart made $30,000 more than I did. I had a degree; he didn’t. When I got promoted to manager, he was promoted to director, and eventually, the company paid for his education, while I funded my MBA on my own. That was when I first understood how much white men are coddled and given opportunities to excel that Black women are simply expected to earn.
Kamala was more than qualified—13 years as a prosecutor, first Black and South Asian woman elected district attorney in California, first Black and South Asian woman in the U.S. Senate, and first woman of color to serve as Vice President. In contrast, Trump is a convicted felon, born with every privilege, who paid someone to take his SATs, declared bankruptcy six times, was adjudicated guilty of sexual assault, incited a deadly insurrection, and denied the 2020 presidential election results. Yet, somehow, he won.
For Black Americans, Trump’s return to office is more than symbolic. The reality of a new Trump presidency feels like a looming threat. Project 2025 plans to dismantle the very civil rights protections, healthcare access, and economic opportunities our communities fought to secure. For those of us who have historically been forced to work twice as hard to achieve half as much, the stakes couldn’t feel higher.
Prioritizing Peace
The implications of this election aren’t just political—they’re deeply personal. As a therapist, I’ve seen firsthand how election anxiety has impacted my clients. Post-election, this strain will only deepen. Many are grappling with fears about their future safety, rights, and dignity in a climate where they feel increasingly unheard and unseen. Counseling clients through these times is challenging, especially knowing they’ll face renewed threats to their mental health and well-being. They carry the weight of this country’s instability, and sometimes, that weight is more than anyone should have to bear.
In helping others, I also have to be mindful of my own mental health. It’s hard to support others when your own spirit is weary, when their fears reflect your own. Self-care isn’t just a buzzword for me right now—it’s a necessity. I remind myself daily that I can’t pour from an empty cup; to serve my clients and my community, I have to make room to rest, recharge, and find peace within myself.
Protecting our peace in times like these requires intention and care. It begins with tuning out the noise—setting boundaries around news to stay informed without letting anxiety creep in. Community is a balm, a reminder that we’re in this together. Leaning into friends, family, and networks keeps us grounded and resilient. Mindfulness practices, like a few minutes of quiet reflection or deep breathing, help reclaim calm amid the stress. Taking small actions, volunteering, supporting causes that matter, brings back a sense of control and purpose.
And Still We Rise
As I reflect on this moment, I remember that Black women have faced adversity for generations and continue to rise. Kamala Harris’s candidacy, no matter the outcome, ignited something within us—a determination to claim our spaces, build our communities, and champion justice. The fight for equity and progress doesn’t end with one election; it’s a lifelong journey, and we are uniquely equipped to navigate it.
So today, I hold space for my disappointment. But tomorrow, like all the Black women who know that our worth, power, and stories are greater than any one person or election, I’ll get back to work. We will keep pushing forward, not just for ourselves but for the generations who will look back on this moment and know that we never gave up. Together, we embody resilience, and together, we will rise.
Dionne Mahaffey, Psy.D, is an Atlanta-based business-psychologist, psychotherapist, tech entrepreneur, and professor.
