Who Should Be First?: Feminists Speak Out on the 2008 Presidential Campaign

17. Black and for Hillary

17 Black and for Hillary Tara Roberts I am a Hillary Clinton supporter. There, I said it. And I’m tired of the dirty looks I get when I out myself. Why is it so surprising that someone like me—a Black, educated, progressive chick—would put my support behind Hillary Clinton? Oh, I know. I’m Black, so, of course, I should support Barack Obama for the No. 1 position in the country. My good friend recently rolled her eyes in exasperation because she’d been patient with me, waiting for me to come to my senses, but suspected that I’d still not yet hopped over into the Obama camp. Just before Super Tuesday, as I broke bread with another friend, she sucked her teeth and shot me an incredulous look when I admitted to backing Hillary. The other day I attended a candlelight banquet for Morehouse College, where actor and emcee of the evening Hill Harper took a few minutes to remind the distinguished crowd of Atlanta’s finest luminaries that he and Barack went to law school together and that he would be happy to accept money that anyone wanted to donate. He got laughter, resounding applause, and I imagine a few checks slipped into his open palm. Somehow, I suspected that if I got up on stage and offered to take checks for Hillary, I’d hear the crickets chirping in the background. What’s funny to me, however, is that before Barack entered the race, many friends and family were excited about Hillary, thrilled, actually; they believed that she was our beacon of hope, that she represented profound change. But now that Barack has entered the building, these same people have turned 89 90 / Who Should Be First? against Hillary and put her down, even though her positions and beliefs have not changed. Quite frankly, I’m tired of dealing with friends, family, and co-workers who cannot believe that I’ve fallen for the supposed race lies of the Clinton machine, that I can’t see how they are manipulating this race and treating our brother—this bright light, this brilliant man—so poorly. It’s interesting that these outraged critics rarely reference the gender lines that have been crossed, the attacks Hillary has endured from opponents and the press for the past sixteen years. She’s been attacked for her hair, her clothes, her facial expressions, her mannerisms . . . and most of us remained silent at these barbs. I would even dare say that some of us most likely agreed with the assessments and snickered behind our hands. It’s never okay to be racist in our world, but, unfortunately, it’s still “normal” to be sexist. I don’t know how that level of unchallenged scrutiny and scathing criticism might develop into survival tactics when called to deal with the press and opponents now. Frankly, it amazes me that Hillary is still standing with her shoulders straight in the face of it all. Now, in case you’re questioning, I do have race pride. No question about it. I am absolutely connected to the beautiful, soulful energy of Black culture. But I hate that I just had to say that. I hate that all Black Clinton supporters are somehow expected to qualify their blackness, as if we are naïve at best and traitors to the race at worst. Hillary’s national co-chair, Sheila Jackson Lee, had to do it, too. She said on the Tavis Smiley Show, “I did not leave my blackness at the door. I am still a sister. I shout in the church. I love the Lord. And I love my people.” Why did she have to say that? I’m tired of race being the overriding defining piece of my identity, of Black women’s identities. Like Sojourner Truth said years ago, “Ain’t I a woman?” Doesn’t that side of me deserve attention too? I’ve traveled this election’s campaign trail on assignment—Iowa, New Hampshire, and South Carolina—and I’ve been moved, touched and inspired by the new fervor for politics that this election has sparked, but I’ve also been saddened. I met two young gentlemen from George Washington University who’d volunteered for the Obama campaign in South Carolina. One, very eloquent and smart—the kind of guy you’d be proud to introduce to your parents—told me plainly that Black women will always be seen as...