For my birthday, my beautiful and talented daughter gave me 107 Days by Kamala Harris. I might have dropped some hints beforehand but boy was I pleased to receive this gift.

As soon as I heard Harris had published a memoir all about her run for the President of the United Stated of America, I knew I had to read it.

During that remarkable time from 21 July 2024 to the election 5 November, when Harris was propelled into the run for office, given such a historically short time for campaigning, I was hooked.

Hooked into hope. Having a black/ brown woman as president of the United States wouldn’t just be radical and amazing it would change the world. Harris would change the world, not just through what she stood for in terms of policies, but more importantly what message her face in the White House would say about us to the world. Thanks once again to a black woman stepping up, caring and making changes not for egotistical, selfish gains but for the benefit of all

I’ve always been in conflict with Black Feminism, in that reality that black women receive the worst treatment from everyone within society and yet we go to bat, stand up and fight for everybody’s freedom. We lead from a foundation of love while at the same time surviving and thriving within a world that does not give that same love in return.

We are destroyed on the daily and yet we still love ourselves and each other. That is what we have to do, love ourselves in the face of being unloved by others.

So here I am reading 107 days, feeling as if Harris is talking directly to me because of her writing style and because I’ve watched far too many of her speeches and interviews to hear her voice while I’m reading, I’m taken back to that time of campaigning and I’m crying when I’m reading.

I’m crying for what Harris had to go through during this time and after. The behind the scenes undermining and neglect, to the public abuse and questioning of her credentials, intelligence and race, by her opponents as well as those who were supposed to be her supporters.

How there’s nothing more revealing of what is within a person’s heart as when a black/ brown woman walks into a room and what that individual says or does in response. Do they see the black/brown woman? Do they recognise them for who they are/ as a human being or do they operate through a stereotypical, misogynoir lens?

I’m crying because during those 107 days, I bought into the whole Harris campaign. I had to. No choice. I knew that to get a black/brown woman elected as President was a long shot, was believing in unicorns, was hopeful, blissful dreaming for groundbreaking change.

And I was all in. I had to be. I had to believe it was possible otherwise what’s the fucking point! what would that be saying about how I viewed myself and my place in this world?

I’m crying now not just because of all those hopes and possibilities being dashed when Harris didn’t win. But also because of what the world is like now because she didn’t win and the dick for an arse who is now in control of the White House and what a fucking mess he’s making of the job, the country, the world. how many people he’s hurting and killing because he didn’t give a fuck. Because he doesn’t and never will care. Harris cared and cares.

I’m crying because my heart was broken then when Harris didn’t win and it’s breaking now as I read how Harris was graceful and joyful in her appearances and actions during the campaign while dealing with racist, sexist shit behind the scenes.

Harris was used just like any other black/brown woman, brought in to repair and save the day, without given the proper support or time or resources to do so. But expectations were and still are there to excel beyond anyone/ everyone else while given less than in terms of resources, grace, the benefit of the doubt.

What Harris achieved in 107 days was remarkable and historical and downright amazing. But does she receive her rightful credit and accolades? Not a fucking chance.

I’m crying because I still have hope in the face of such shit. I’m hurting with hope.

Hope is a practicing and we have to keep practicing.