Shirley Chisholm, a Democratic congresswoman, was the first African American woman to run for president of the United States. Sixty years later, Kamala Harris will become the first Black and South Asian American woman to be nominated for president by a major party. Is the United States poised to elect her?
Chisholm, from Brooklyn, N.Y., first ran for office in 1964 — the year both Harris and I were born (the vice president on Oct. 20 and me on Oct. 30). When Chisholm began her presidential campaign in 1972, Harris and I were probably more focused on our toys and our friends, but I was fascinated by politics and aware of Congresswoman Chisholm.
For Black women of my generation, Black women political leaders were few and far between in the 1960s and ’70s, and the numbers remain below our percentage of the population.
Black women represent 7.7 per cent of the total U.S. population, according to the U.S. Census. The Center for American Women and Politics (CAWP) reports that 5.4 per cent of all voting members of Congress identify as Black women. Nonetheless, the situation has improved greatly compared to 1968, when Chisholm became the first Black woman elected to U.S. Congress.
Black women firsts
As a scholar and author on race dynamics, I have never aspired to elected office. But my personal story has many similarities to Harris’s. Women of our generation generally find ourselves the first woman, the first Black person or the first Black woman in every leadership position we hold.
This was true for me when I got tenure and promotion to full professor at the University of Texas at Austin, became a Vice Provost, Provost at Menlo College and the first Black full professor in political science at McGill University, and in my current position at the University of British Columbia.
In a recent article detailing her own many firsts, Harris noted: “My mother had a saying: ‘Kamala, you may be the first to do many things, but make sure you’re not the last.’”
However, promoting women in politics is hard work and has been a long struggle. There’s a reason many Black women have been the first in their positions — misogyny has made it difficult for all women to gain entry into politics, let alone Black women, who face the additional obstacle of abject racism.
Politics and the recruitment of political candidates is something that often happens in places where women don’t have access — golf clubs, fraternities and many below-the-radar private clubs, like the Bohemian Grove in Sonoma County, California. These are often the places where men network and gain the support they need from other men to run for office.
Another factor is that women doubt themselves and often have difficulty raising money. A 2017 Politico survey found that women polled in the fields of business, law, education and politics/activism were as likely as their male counterparts to have relevant political experience, including extensive policy research, public speaking, soliciting funds and interacting with public officials.
But when asked if they thought they were qualified to run for office, only 57 per cent of those women said they were qualified or very qualified, compared to 73 per cent of men.
No American woman president
From a global perspective, the United States is far behind other democracies in terms of women in executive positions.
India’s Indira Gandhi and Britain’s Margaret Thatcher are among several high-profile women who led their countries for years and had a significant impact on international politics. The U.S., meantime, didn’t have its first female secretary of state until the late 1990s, when President Bill Clinton appointed Madeleine Albright.
Many other countries have had women prime ministers, yet political parties in the U.S. have rarely supported women candidates for president.
Hillary Clinton, the first woman nominee of a major American political party, was considered by many to be a highly qualified candidate, with a strong record and high approval ratings as a senator and secretary of state under Barack Obama. Her loss in 2016 to a political newcomer with a great deal of baggage was devastating — and woefully familiar — for many women who had been looking forward to seeing her break the glass ceiling.
Clinton was a lightning rod even when she was first lady to Bill Clinton. She was derided for trying to maintain her career as a lawyer and being involved in policy making, including developing a universal health-care plan that fell flat.
When she ran for president, some older women I knew found her strong personality to be off-putting. In fact, the majority of white women voted for Donald Trump in 2016 even after his appalling remarks about pursuing women became public.
Hate, disinformation
Women running for office are also targets of hate and disinformation along with the sexism and racism they face.
Nina Jankowicz, an American expert on disinformation, conducted a 2020 study that found, over two months, 336,000 instances of abuse or disinformation targeting just 13 candidates across six social media platforms. Jankowicz said in a recent opinion piece:
“Whether Democrat or Republican, young or old, urban or rural, these women were subjected to sex-based falsehoods and hate that their male counterparts weren’t.”
This is disheartening by itself, but the study also found that 78 per cent of the abuse and disinformation targeted Harris.
Despite her career as a successful prosecutor and politician in California, Harris was — and still is today — accused of “sleeping her way to the top.” The absurdity of this is profound given the fact that her opponent, Trump, has been accused and found civilly liable for sexual assault.
Hillary Clinton, Kamala Harris and women like me have long experienced the phenomenon that we have to be twice as good to get half the credit of men.
We’ll find out in November if the U.S. is ready for a Black woman president — but Harris certainly seems unbowed and already doing the hard work of getting elected on Nov. 5.
Terri Givens does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
