Where Do We Go From Here?

Where do we go from here?

One of my friends texted me this question as we exchanged grievous messages reflecting on the election. 

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I really don’t know.”

Tears filled my eyes as I pressed send, but I quickly blinked them away. My children were in the other room working on their homeschool assignments, completely unaware of how much our lives had changed in a matter of hours. I haven’t had the heart to tell them yet. Yesterday, they came to the polls with me, excited to watch their mommy cast a historic vote for Kamala Harris. Voting for Kamala and envisioning her victory was all we spoke about for months. I pictured bringing my daughters to witness the inauguration of this nation’s first Black woman president — a moment they would never forget at their tender ages of 7 and 5. Though I am well-versed in the foundation our nation was built upon — white supremacy, racism, and hatred — I still had this glimmer of hope. Truthfully, it was more than a glimmer. I had rays of hope in my spirit. This time will be different, I kept telling myself. We’ve seen the destruction of modern-day, fascist white supremacy once before. We won’t make that mistake again. 

I was gullibly expectant. I had peace in my spirit and a pep in my step as I strutted to the polls. We were going to make history. I could feel it. 

And, we did make history. 

America made history by re-electing a twice-impeached, previously voted-out criminal leader—one who incited an insurrection—back into office in a sweeping landslide victory. America made history by elevating white supremacy to its guiding force, despite the damage this choice does to its credibility and standing among global leaders and allies. America made history by choosing underqualified whiteness over an overqualified Black woman, just as it always does.

America made history by…being America. 

There is nothing more to say about that. There is no other argument. No other justifier. The only thing that happened last night was that America was America. Thousands of think pieces are circulating the internet, trying to prove otherwise. I’ve heard it all — she just wasn’t qualified, America still didn’t know who she was, the public was unsatisfied with the current administration and she represented that, she didn’t have any plans to “fix” the economy, she lost my vote when she invited Beyoncé to her rally, she didn’t end the genocide in Gaza, etc. The excuses go on. 

Let me make one thing clear: if Kamala Harris had the perfect economic policies, convinced Biden to issue an arms embargo for Israel, and vocalized dissatisfaction toward our current president, America still would not have voted for her because she is a Black and South Asian WOMAN. Period. 

There was always a plan to find something wrong with her campaign — some sort of justifier that proved her unworthy of winning without seeming racist and misogynistic. The fact that a white man—federally indicted, convicted of sexual assault, openly racist and misogynistic, advocating mass deportations, and repeatedly flagged as a threat to democracy by his own former colleagues—could win an election over a woman who, though imperfect, held far more qualifications, reveals that no effort could sway America from its entrenched commitment to white supremacy.

This is not Harris’ fault for not running the perfect campaign. This is America worshipping its idol of white supremacy. Had the tables been turned and Harris was the criminal who incited the insurrection and Trump was the decent human being with the exact policies as Harris, he still would have won. Even if Harris ran on Trump’s campaign verbatim, he still would have won. This is the brainwashing of white supremacy — if the message comes from a white man in power, it must be true, it must be credible, and it must be what America stands for. 

Had the above been the circumstances, this outcome would not hurt nearly as much. However, these are not the circumstances. This is not simply about an underqualified man beating an overqualified Black woman. That is the bare minimum of white supremacy. This is about the fact that Trump has redefined and modernized white supremacy for 21st-century America and convinced the majority of this nation to re-identify with it. White supremacy has undergone a 12-year Trump re-brand. He carefully and methodically re-branded white supremacy and signed his name to it, placing himself at the highest altar of power, and America followed along like a cat following a laser. 

The core of American identity is hate. 
The core of American identity is racism. 
The core of American identity is bigotry. 
The core of American identity is self-service in the interest of whiteness.

America was designed on the premise that white supremacy is the god of their salvation and protection. This has not changed since before 1776. And, it probably won’t ever change. 

Where do we go from here? My friend may have asked me this question because I write, speak, and teach about liberation. I wrote a book about how we all deserve liberation from the stronghold of white supremacy and how we can carefully, strategically, and patiently work to achieve that liberation. The Caroline who wrote that book is the same Caroline who felt those rays of hope just 12 hours ago. I’ve always approached the fight for liberation this way. Even in moments of despair — and there have been many — I have always found a way to stay in the fight and lean into the hope that fuels me. I have never once felt like white supremacy was undefeatable. I’ve always believed that, while we won’t see the full defeat of white supremacy in this lifetime, there will be a full defeat of white supremacy one day. My faith once fueled my hope, reassuring me that while evil may win battles, it could never win the war. Now, I’m not so sure I still believe that.

Perhaps this is my grief and rage speaking. Perhaps if you ask me this question in a week, next month, or sometime next year, I’ll feel differently. I don’t know. And I don’t have to know right now. I don’t ever have to know. From this moment, I no longer place the burden of America on my back. 

Let me repeat that — I am no longer placing the burden of America on my back. 

Until now, I didn’t realize that this was what I was doing. When I entered the work of liberation, or when the work of liberation found me, I jumped into it with a heart full of promise, hope, and optimism. I don’t think I ever felt more determined to change the world. Cheesy? Sure. Delusional? Absolutely. I naively thought that if I wrote a few convincing words about how white supremacy causes all of us harm that intentionally holds us all back from the liberation we rightly deserve, many would eagerly join the collective fight. I made conscious efforts to speak to anyone who wanted to listen. I wanted to reach Americans of every race, gender, and age group — from the most privileged white man to the most marginalized Black trans woman. My heart desired to show everyone that, no matter your proximity to whiteness, the harm of white supremacy was far greater than its benefits. I believed that if I could just help people recognize the collective harm affecting us all, it would naturally unite us in the pursuit of liberation.

My hopeful heart has been bruised many times since beginning this work, but it never broke. Until last night. Last night, my heart shattered. And I keep beating myself up because I shouldn’t be the least bit surprised. I have studied America’s foundation. I know that white supremacy is the foundation and DNA makeup of our society. I have seen America worship the god of white supremacy time and again. Why did I think this would be different? Why did I dare to have hope? To believe in humanity? 

In every instance of our nation’s history, any time white supremacy is challenged, it comes back stronger, complete with a rebrand so that it’s not as obvious as it was once before. It disguises itself so that the majority of us can fall for its games. The War on Drugs, Reganomics, and police brutality are all recent examples of this. So is Trump’s win in 2016. We are still in the era of the post-Obama effect — the whitelash that followed his presidency. In 2008, many of us naively believed that his victory marked a new beginning in American history. A glass ceiling was shattered. We were finally seen as equal, capable, and deserving of this nation’s highest office. We had finally made it. While I don’t ever want to take away from that pivotal moment in American history, we were fools to believe that we were closing the book on white supremacy at that moment. Maybe, 16 years later, we were naive to think the whitelash we’d endured over the past 12 years had ended. It was never over. It was simply regrouping, preparing to return with even greater force—as it always does.

My shattered heart is finally reconciling that this is America. Though my head always knew that this was America, my heart served as my hopeful fuel no matter the devastating circumstances. 

I’m out of fuel now. 

And I’m not sure where the nearest gas station is. 

So, where do we go from here? 

Nowhere. At least, not right now. We stay put in our lament, allowing our tears, screams, and words of despair to surface. We (Black people) have carried the burden of America on our shoulders for far too long. It’s time to put it down now. There is no need to rush to the next fight, find a way to turn our lament into productivity or prove to the world that we aren’t giving up. We have nothing to prove to anyone. We never have. We just live in a society that tells us otherwise. 

Eventually, once our tears have dried, we might feel a slight tug toward a next step. And that tug may feel different for each of us. For me, that may look like a shift in my work. Perhaps I am no longer putting my all into fighting for the dismantling of white supremacy in this society. Perhaps my work shifts toward how to actively survive and resist a society that will never change. Perhaps my work solely focuses on healing from a society that perpetually hurts us. Perhaps, I somehow find my way to that gas station that pumps that hopeful fuel and I am even more determined than ever to destroy white supremacy at its core. Or, perhaps none of that happens, because merely existing in this new reality becomes all that I have the energy for. 

At some point, a forward step will be taken. But, there is no need to rush. If you need it, this is your permission to be still. You don’t need to roll up your sleeves and continue the fight right now. You can simply be still. That is more than enough resistance in itself. 

I am committed to one thing in this moment—I will not let hate win. I refuse to shrink because white supremacy demands it. I won’t hide because it feels emboldened. I will not devalue myself simply because it deems me unworthy.

And, though I am angry, I will not respond to hatred with hatred. 
I will still see the value in my neighbor and I will lead with love.