How Kamala Can Use Story to Her Advantage

Harris

I know that I should respond quickly to #trending and #currentevents on social media. However, I’ve been mute for two days. I can never respond to change quickly. I always need time to think.

So I’ve been watching as the story of Kamala unfolds.

What first happened was the sudden, unpredicted weekend announcement that President Biden would be stepping down.

Then I was as shocked as anyone to have the blank page of Kamala stepping up.

Kamala is not actually a blank page. She has been kept blank in people’s minds, since we never see her in the news, thus have no idea what she’s doing or how she’s doing. Because Kamala’s story has been withheld from us—as she has been, in general—she appears as a space is waiting to be filled.

I think this is part of a general attempt to erase female power, desire, and authenticity by erasing female stories.

Suddenly, now that Harris is headed toward a presidential candidacy, we can see her again, and in a miraculous new light—that there now exists a chance for the first woman in history to be president of the United States.

I’ve been reading the news closely the past couple of days, waiting to see the stories that develop, waiting to respond to this new sprout of hope growing in my chest.

Obama

In his 2008 presidential campaign, candidate Barack Obama wanted to talk about story. He wanted to tell his. He knew that he had to establish a narrative about his life or another would get established for him. He knew that story is important.

I signed up to volunteer for Obama’s campaign and was trained by a south Georgia firebrand named Jeana Brown. Jeana is a white woman native to the coalfields of West Virginia. She was married to a black long-haul trucker.

She said, according to national protocol, there would be no training without a chance for volunteers to tell their own stories.

She went first. "When I first saw Obama speak on television," she said, "I thought, this is my life." Then she circled the room, asking for our stories.

Nathan was a progressive in a deeply conservative state. His ethics were to lift everybody out of poverty, as he had been lifted.

Raven was a handsome political junkie with an intense drive to make the world better.

Then a guy named Jimmy spoke. Jimmy was a heavyset, fire-and-brimstone, south-Georgia preacher with the most powerful story of all. “I have been a racist,” he said, “and I have preached racism from the pulpit.”

Jimmy Dreamed While He Slept

But Jimmy had a dream, a real dream. In that dream Bobby Kennedy was approaching him and calling his name, "Jimmy"—calling to him, the preacher. Kennedy got to Jimmy. What Kennedy said, in the dream, was "You're not doing right."

You’re not doing right.

In the dream, and then when he woke up from the dream, the preacher was a changed man. He experienced an epiphany because of a dream one night in which Bobby Kennedy asked him to do better, be a better person, and treat others better. Now here he was at an Obama training, signing up to register voters.

Months later, that dream left Jimmy's voice trembling.

That was story, potent and unforgettable. The politician Obama understood the power of story, yes. He understood the power of connection, and he determined that personal story was the most essential and quickest way to touch another person, to gain their confidence, to secure their vote.

Between Now & November

In the upcoming election it will be important for Harris to do the same, to tell her potent and unforgettable story in such a way that she touches people, gains their confidence, and secures their vote.

In fact, all of us as women—and all who ally with women—will need to tell our powerful and life-changing stories of what life in the patriarchy has been like for us. I think that all our stories can get propel Harris to victory.

A photo from 2020, right? I was knocking on doors again, wearing an Obama t-shirt. I’ll be knocking again. Let me in.