On September 17, I was invited by NABJ, the National Association of Black Journalists, of which I am a member, to attend an “in-person conversation” with Democratic candidate Kamala Harris in downtown Philadelphia.
It is during a similar conversation with NABJ in August, that her conservative rival, Donald Trump, questioned her ethnicity, causing an uproar and making headlines.
“I didn’t know she was Black until a number of years ago, when she happened to run Black and now, she wants to be known as Black," the former President said during NABJ’s convention in Chicago. "So, I don’t know, is she Indian or is she Black?" Harris is of both Black and South Asian heritage.
For Harris, the conversation with NABJ was her first national interview after the September 10 debate against Trump. The stakes were high as this was happening at a time when polls continue to show that a significant number of Black men, especially young Black men, say that they support Trump. Twenty-one percent of Black men under the age of 50 plan to vote for Trump, while 72% plan to vote for Harris, according to a recent poll (September 4–11) of Black voters from seven battleground states (Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, North Carolina, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania) published by the Howard University Initiative on Public Opinion. This does not look good for Harris, in what is expected to be a very close election.
In Philadelphia, Harris had the opportunity to directly address and quell doubts of some young Black people, as NABJ invited students from Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) located in the area, such as Lincoln University. The interview took place at the lobby of the public radio station WHYY, which was transformed into a mini auditorium.
On the stage, the three interviewers sat across Vice President Kamala Harris. Just a few feet below, four rows of seats had been set up, facing the four people on the set. And the back of the room had been reserved for the media pool covering the event. Every space of the room was used. We were all sitting next to each other, which gave a form of intimacy to the whole conversation that was about to begin.
There was great excitement among the students and the other guests from both WHYY and NABJ, as they immortalized the moment by snapping pictures and taking short videos of themselves to show that they were in the room with the VP and maybe the next President of the United States.
As we got closer to 2:30 PM EDT, the time the interview was scheduled to begin, the excitement increased. To my left and two rows in front of me sat many students. They had their smartphones on video mode, ready to capture the entrance of Harris. The MC announced that the event was about to begin. She asked for silence. The interviewers made their entrance. Shortly after, Harris arrived to the stage under a thunder of applause. She shook hands with the three interviewers, headed towards her chair, turned and picked up the microphone. It was at this moment that she faced, very briefly, the whole room, and sat down. During the interview she was sitting at a 90-degree angle from the audience.
The conversation started. Harris was no different than the Harris we had seen at the debate, the Harris we had seen at the Democratic convention or the Harris who showed up at the campaign rallies. She was professional, guarded and kept things that way. She didn’t veer away from the script. Every single word she uttered appeared controlled. The vowels were placed where they were supposed to be, same as the consonants. It was another masterpiece on how not to go off script, much to the disappointment of the audience, which expected something more personal and relatable.
About ten minutes into the interview, Harris was asked the question that has been plaguing the Democratic camp for several weeks now.
Interviewer: Madame Vice President, Black men, as you know, are a closely watched voting bloc. You hosted Black men at your residence. You have engaged Black men in your Economic Opportunity Tour. But polls show that some Black men, particularly Young Black men, are considering voting for Donald Trump and they see him as better for the economy. What is your message to young Black male voters who feel left out of this economy, and how can your economic policies materially change their lives?
Kamala Harris, VP: So, I appreciate the spirit of the question, but I’ll tell you, I’ve often been asked this question in a way that I’ve had to respond by first saying, that it’s very important to not operate from the assumption that Black men are in anybody’s pocket. Black men are like any other voting group. You’ve got to earn their vote. So, I’m working to earn their vote, not assuming I am going to have it because I am Black.
The Democratic candidate explained that she would focus on entrepreneurship, specifically increasing access to capital, which, she said, is one of the main obstacles people of color are confronted with when they start a business. She also promised to extend the tax deduction for small businesses and startups from $5,000 to $50,000.
She mentioned that she plans to focus on biases which are preventing Black people from becoming homeowners, such as redlining, a historical discriminatory practice which has made it difficult, even impossible, for Black folks and people of color to obtain loans either to start a business, buy a house or anything else.
“When people have the opportunity to have the resources to get started, they’re going to put the good ideas," Harris said. "They’re going to put the hard work into it.”
I looked at my next seat neighbors on the right, three Black men, as Harris answered the question. They were unmoved. In front of us, the students were just as silent as were the young people on my left.
Ten minutes after her response about Black men, Harris was asked about Trump’s comments regarding Haitian immigrants eating people’s pets in Springfield, Ohio, made during their debate. The baseless and untrue claims sparked multiple bomb threats in the city and set up a climate of fear.
Harris turned to face the audience.
“It’s a crying shame," she said, telling the crowd that it was school-photo-day for elementary students in Springfield, but they had to be evacuated because of “serious threats.” "I mean, my heart breaks for this community. Children, children. A whole community put in fear,” Harris lamented, while denouncing what she called “lies that are grounded in tropes that are age-old.”
The room hung on her every word. There was a heavy silence. For almost 7 minutes, there was a bond between the candidate and the audience. It was the only moment during the interview, which lasted almost 45 minutes, that Harris seemed to connect with the room. At that time, I was reminded of the basic principle of communication: to always read the room. The room was telling Harris that it needed some kind of human connection, it needed her to be more personal. It didn’t need the coldness you find in a PowerPoint presentation.
Less than 20 minutes later, the interview was over. Harris stood up, turned to the audience and uttered: “Thank you, thank you,” accompanied by a hand gesture. She shook the interviewers’ hands, waved towards the audience and disappeared. It all happened in less than 45 seconds. She was gone.
I turned to my three neighbors on the right. They were somewhat perplexed.
“Man, when are we going to eat something? I am hungry,” one said, while the other two were glued to their phones.
They walked to the podium to take pictures. I walked up to a young student and asked him what he thought of the interview.
“I don’t know,” he replied, seeming hesitant to share his opinion. “I don’t know.”
I insisted but I got nothing more than what he had already said. I looked around the room. It was tough to read the faces. The only thing I was sure of was that the excitement they exuded a couple hours before was gone. They seemed to hide their disappointment by lining up to snap a quick photo of themselves with the podium as the background.
A Black man approached me, as I was observing the activity in the room. He introduced himself and asked me what I thought of the interview. I replied that the interviewers did a great job.
“But what did you think of the candidate?” he asked.
Instead of answering, I asked him to answer his own question.
“If I were one of her advisors, I would have asked her to be a little warmer,” he told me. “It was too cold. She is too guarded for me. She didn’t even come forward to say a few words to the crowd. She didn’t even chit-chat with the room when she arrived. It’s very disappointing.”
“What could she have done better?” I asked him.
“When she arrived for example, she could have faced us and said a few words to us, acknowledged us. Same at the end, it’s as simple as that. Show that you are a woman of the people.”
I spoke to him a little longer. This Black man helps young Black people to find jobs and internships. He advises them in their career moves and mentors them. Listening to him, it seems that, despite all the good will, he has been struggling to convince the young people with whom he interacts regularly that Harris cares for them and will fight for them. It seems that he himself has had difficulty connecting with the candidate.
Harris reminded me at that moment of a sports team playing in front of a home and loyal crowd, a crowd which can’t wait to go crazy. It’s just up to the team to get the crowd fired up. But that would never happen because the team has chosen to play it safe. They refuse to take risks. They play not to lose.
Their fans, on the other hand, want to see them give their best. It doesn’t come, despite their hopes. It never comes. When the fans go home, they will have this feeling that they have a good team but something is not blending yet. The fans and the team are not in sync. Will this change? Maybe the fans just have to accept that their team will never drive them to the highest level of excitement. What matters is the W, not how you get it. Maybe Black men should just stop waiting for Harris to connect with them the way they would consider ideal.
On the train back to New York that day, I texted my son, who is 19 and lives in California. He called me the next day. My son and his Black friends have been very skeptical of the Democrats in this presidential election. They ditched President Joe Biden as they deemed him too old. Since Harris became the candidate on July 21, my son and his friends are not sold on her either.
“Have you and your friends finally decided who you’re going to vote for?” I asked him. Weeks earlier, he and his friends had concluded that both Harris and Trump are bad choices.
“Nothing has changed,” he told me on September 18.
“Don’t you like the joy movement?” I pushed back.
“Yes, but she offers yesterday’s solutions to today’s and tomorrow’s problems,” he responded. She doesn’t answer questions directly. She avoids answering questions. She hides from the press. We don’t really know her.”
“You’re repeating almost word for word what Trump, J.D. Vance and their supporters say about her,” I retorted.
“Yes, just because they say it doesn’t mean it’s not true,” my son told me, arguing that he and his buddies have been talking nonstop about both candidates but they don’t feel a connection with Harris. They don’t feel that she understands them or even tries to.
Harris and the Democrats only care about women and the LGBTQ+ community. They don’t care about straight men. When you listen to them, it’s all about women. There’s no place for straight men. She doesn’t answer questions about the economy. Contrast that with abortion. You can see that she cares about abortion. It’s an important topic for women. But when it comes to the economy, she doesn’t show the same passion.”
“So, it’s Trump then?” I asked him.
He evaded my question.
“At least, conservatives care about straight men," my son said. "They put straight men at the center. Conservatives give an important place to men. They talk about masculinity. They talk about the economy.”
It is important to point out that my son and his friends are students at a prestigious Californian university. Basically, they have the profile of young liberals. They are passionate about the environment, gender equality, minority rights, etc. But lately, their relationship with the Democratic party has been frosty.
I asked my son what Kamala Harris should do to repair the mistrust that exists between him, his friends and the leader of the Democrat party.
“She should start speaking about men’s priorities, such as the economy, with as much passion as she does when it comes to abortion," he answers. "She should talk of the men’s malaise. She should pronounce the word masculinity without linking it to toxic masculinity or macho. It’s like we men are an afterthought for her and the Democrats.”
He apologized as he had to hang up to go to class.
Listening to my son, I realized that in Philadelphia, Harris missed a huge opportunity to bridge a growing gap with Black men, especially young Black men, as that day, many of them were in the room. I can’t help wondering whether these missed opportunities will catch up with her on November 5.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Luc Olinga's work on Medium.