Democrats love Black women’s labor. They’re less committed to our progress and protection
TheGrio...
OPINION: From Cori Bush to Jasmine Crockett and LaMonica McIver, Black women deserve more than praise when political stakes are high.
Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
Election after election, Black women organize, donate, volunteer, knock on doors, and show up at the ballot box. Black women have higher voter turnout than any other demographic and we overwhelmingly vote blue. Yet, when it’s time for the party to invest in the Black women that are running for office or defend them once they’re there, that loyalty is met with a deafening silence.
Former Missouri Congresswoman Cori Bush’s primary defeat is the most recent painful example. Missourians noted that they were inundated with well-funded advertisements attacking Bush, while Democratic donors and allied groups invested elsewhere. Millions of dollars were poured into campaign ads and securing endorsements for the other candidate. The message was clear: some candidates are worth millions, others, not so much.
Bush isn’t the only Black woman to encounter that reality.
Earlier this year, Rep. Jasmine Crockett lost her bid for a primary seat in a Texas Senate to James Talarico. National Democrats undermined her campaign by publicly questioning if a “fiery and quick witted” demeanor was electable. Party insiders reportedly argued Talarico was the more “winnable” candidate, despite the candidates sharing many of the same policy priorities and Crockett’s more extensive experience.
For many Black women, the conclusion has become difficult to ignore: our labor is celebrated in speeches but expendable in strategy and decision making.
The problem doesn’t end once Black women are elected.
For over a year, New Jersey Rep. LaMonica McIver has faced criminal charges brought by the Trump administration after an incident outside an ICE detention facility in New Jersey. McIver was arrested along with Newark’s Democratic Mayor, Ras Baraka. Baraka’s charges were dropped. Trump commented that McIver’s charges remained because, “That woman was out of control.”
McIver could face up to 17 years in prison. She currently shoulders the financial and political burden of defending herself. According to McIver, she largely feels alone in this fight. While some individual Democrats originally condemned the charges, there has been no sustained, party-wide effort to raise legal defense funds, coordinate national messaging, or elevate her case.
The response, or lack thereof, stands in sharp contrast to the aggressive, party-wide defense mounted for figures like Senator Mark Kelly and five other lawmakers with national security backgrounds, whose recent political targeting sparked immediate, unified resistance.
That silence lands heavily with the very voters who have carried the party for decades.
But should we be surprised?
In her memoir “107 Days,” former Vice-President Kamala Harris speaks about her own treatment within the party. Harris argued that throughout her vice presidency, she was assigned politically safer, lower-profile responsibilities. Even when her office secured significant policy wins, they were downplayed by the administration and media. In her memoir and on tour, Harris also suggests that President Biden’s inner circle intentionally left her with limited access to key information and, ultimately, less time to prepare for a presidential campaign than she otherwise might have had.
Despite all of this, Black women showed up to support her and the party anyway. Less than a week after her announcement, over 44,000 Black women joined a Zoom call prepared to mobilize at unprecedented levels. Millions of dollars were raised. Members of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated, Howard University alumni, civic organizations, faith leaders, and everyday Black women rallied around her candidacy. We’re affectionately (and a little pettily) calling ourselves “the 92%.”
As I watch these stories unfold, I realize the pattern—one I’ve witnessed in my own career and in the lives of women I love. Time and again, Black women pour themselves into institutions, carrying disproportionate responsibility while receiving disproportionately little institutional support in return.
We will be given our proverbial flowers in speeches and social media posts. But ignored when it’s time for true investment i.e. money, time, and energy.
With speculation already swirling about another Harris presidential campaign in 2028, the Democratic Party doesn’t need another speech thanking Black women. It needs a track record of investing in Black women when they’re running for office, defending them during political attacks, and trusting them with leadership when the stakes are highest.
Julienne Louis-Anderson is a former educator who writes about the intersection of culture and politics with education and human development.