TThere’s no shortage of political hot takes on Donald Trump’s presidential victory, so I’ll spare you one more. I will focus on how this feels, not just to me, but to countless people who have spent their entire lives believing in our nation’s founding principles, even if those principles do not protect us.

Black Americans, especially women, have been at the forefront of every social and political struggle for fairness and justice in this country, from the abolition of slavery to the suffrage movement to the fight for civil rights and reproductive justice and more.

That’s why Black women are called “spineI think this is appropriate given how often the oppressive boot of white patriarchy is placed around the necks of Black women.

My job might be to figure out what the election means for the Supreme Court, reproductive health care, the guardrails of our democracy, and America’s place on the world stage. And I will achieve this. But first, I have to get over the pain of feeling, once again, that the nation I love and believe in has mistreated me.

America has been given the opportunity to allow a Black and Asian American woman to move us beyond Trump’s decade-long form of racist, sexist, and toxic grievance politics to a broad agenda of joy, compassion, and opportunity. And America, especially the majority of white Americans, said: “No thanks. “We are fine.”

The first thought that came to my mind Wednesday morning was that my late grandmother would tell me: “You’re going to be president.”

I would laugh and reassure him that this wasn’t a job I wanted. But I didn’t reject the idea because I didn’t think I could do it. I never doubted that I could do it: I was raised by strong, supportive parents and grandparents who never let me believe for a moment that anything was out of my reach, even if I had to work harder and be better than I was as a Black woman. most.

This reality was one of the things that made Vice President Kamala Harris’s campaign so extraordinary. She defied all conventional political wisdom and odds by getting up and running just two weeks before the Democratic National Convention following President Biden’s departure. He didn’t miss a beat, delivered excellent speeches and delivered a dynamic debate performance that underlined his presidential credentials. Harris’ camp broke fundraising records, expanded its ground game and garnered vocal and enthusiastic support.

That support was most clearly evident in a flurry of organized Zoom calls hosted by pro-Harris groups from every conceivable demographic. For Harris, it was Nerds and Nerds! Healthcare Providers to Harris! Knitters, Swifties and Dead Heads all had a spot reserved to support the vice president’s bid. This grassroots movement was, unsurprisingly, started by Black women. The Zoom call, held just hours after Harris entered the race, attracted more than 40,000 participants and was broadcast to an additional 50,000 people. This served as a template for all other groups to reproduce to increase support.

But even this huge surge in Harris’ support has shown us this: Our politics is driven by identity, no matter how much we tell ourselves it isn’t. Identity begins with the letter I, literally and figuratively. This is not about the good of the majority. It’s about doing what makes us comfortable, staying in our silos, and not thinking too hard or too much about the consequences for others.

Even as surfers, knitters, and cat ladies rallied to support Harris, they felt better doing so among others like them. And that’s exactly what Trump got. He “othered” his way back to the White House by using fear, lies, and grievance to get his supporters to come together to fight against those he sees as enemies. He created a picture of a nation engaged in a zero-sum battle for survival against immigrants, transgender people, and fictional criminals taking over urban areas. In Harris, the dark-haired daughter of immigrants, she saw the perfect enemy. His attacks on her were part of his appeal. He showed that misogyny can win, and his voters proved him right.

I will have plenty of time to get back to my work of sorting out the political and legal ramifications of this election. But first I need to sit down for a minute. I need to understand how the majority of our citizens put their own privileges above making democracy work for everyone. I must reconcile the shortage of empathy revealed by the election results with the country’s willingness to embrace the worst parts of our nature and what this says about our humanity.

And I will rue how the world looked to me when my grandmother expressed so much confidence in my ability to lead the world. I just hope that one day the faith in my heart will be revived.

But today, I think about how painfully true Malcolm X’s words still ring, 60 years later: “The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman.”