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I come from a family of qualified women, trailblazers who shattered barriers in their personal and professional lives. My grandmother ran a successful convenience store on Chicago’s South Side, paving the way for my mother, aunts and cousins, who broke through corporate ceilings. Yet, their triumphs came with struggles — navigating a corporate world that often has a predefined “place” for Black women. Family conversations often reveal the painful reality of these glass ceilings, and the extraordinary effort required to overcome them, often at great personal cost.
Calls I’ve received after the election, particularly from Black women, reveal their frustration: doing everything right yet being deemed insufficient. This sentiment echoes in the careers of figures like Hillary Clinton, who faced sexism, and Vice President Kamala Harris, who encountered both gender and racial double standards despite her qualifications, work ethic and history of success. African American women like Harris routinely overcome these barriers through brilliance, resilience and persistence. However, even she could not overcome the reality of a political party that has strayed from the roots that once made it a “big tent” coalition.
Political parties evolve, and the Democratic Party is no exception. Once a champion of unions and the working class, it also carried a dark history of racism and slavery. However, its commitment to supporting the underdog ultimately prevailed. Milestones like President Lyndon B. Johnson’s signing of the Civil Rights Act in 1964 redefined the party’s identity, aligning it with African Americans, immigrants, women and, later, the LGBTQ+ community.
Still, despite low unemployment and crime rates, Democrats saw a decline in support from non-college-educated voters and some minority groups in the latest election. Even in Minnesota, a blue state with a strong economy, prosperity does not reach everyone. Minnesota ranks 20th in GDP, though 22nd in population, and is highly rated for quality of life, yet glaring disparities persist for African Americans, Latinos, Native Americans and low-income whites, spanning urban, rural and suburban areas.
Black people in Minnesota face some of the largest racial disparities in the nation. Middle-income white Minnesotans earn significantly more than their Black counterparts, while Black women have lower life expectancies compared to white women and Black women in other states. Latinos experience higher poverty rates than their national counterparts, and low-income white students lag behind their wealthier peers academically. Minnesota also has one of the nation’s largest homeownership gaps between households of color and whites.
These inequities contribute to growing disillusionment. While many are nominally better off economically, their quality of life and upward mobility remain limited. Frustration with unaddressed disparities likely explains declining Democratic support, even among historically loyal groups. For example, despite the rhetoric, African American men overwhelmingly supported Harris, but dissatisfaction with entrenched disparities and degradation of the family unit may have contributed to narrowing margins nationwide.