In the story of our country, there are moments that are much bigger than partisan politics—they’re personal. Voting for Kamala Harris was one of those moments. Historic is a word I never imagined I’d get to use this way in my lifetime. I’ve been around for plenty of “firsts,” like when I was able to vote for Barack Obama. But a Black woman in the White House? I had started to think that was as likely as finding decent parking downtown.
For so long, Black women were only cast as side characters, the ones who save the day but don’t get the glory. The sassy Best Friend, but not the Effective Leader. Honestly, I’d lost faith in my country showing real support for one of Us as a leader. Yet here We are.
Kamala Harris is only a few years older than I am, so this also felt like casting my vote for my deserved older Sister. When I went to vote, I spent more time than ever filling in my ballot. I wanted every line to be distinct, every circle filled with intention. I wanted my vote for Kamala Harris to be unmistakably clear and to ensure nothing about my ballot could be questioned or dismissed.
This vote felt like a pledge to history, that the work being done by Black Women could be noticed.
We asked other Black women how it felt to finally have this moment. We’re making it clear, circle by circle, that history has finally caught up to us.