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<h1>Being White America’s “Momala”</h1>

<p>In May 2019, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BxYWjnTjnUM/?hl=en" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Vice President Kamala Harris posted</a> a photo of herself flanked by her husband, Douglas Emhoff, and her stepchildren, Ella and Cole. In the accompanying caption, Harris wrote, “Grateful every day to be Momala to Ella and Cole.” Harris, sans makeup and dressed down, offered a public moment of vulnerability and tenderness with her family while using <a href="https://www.elle.com/culture/career-politics/a27422434/kamala-harris-stepmom-mothers-day/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">a term her stepchildren created</a> just for her.</p>



<p>When <a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/kamala-harris-drew-barrymore-momala_n_6633d039e4b05f96b0179f7c" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Harris appeared on <em>The Drew Barrymore Show</em></a> in April 2024, Barrymore referenced that nickname. “That’s a great segue to say that I keep thinking in my head that we all need a mom,” Barrymore said. “I’ve been thinking that we really all need a tremendous hug in the world right now. But in our country, we need you to be ‘Momala’ of the country.”</p>



<p>I thought a lot about that moment while watching Harris debate former President Donald Trump in September. At the start of the debate, <a href="https://theconversation.com/starting-with-a-handshake-presidential-debate-between-harris-and-trump-then-turns-fierce-and-pointed-238646" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Trump appeared apprehensive</a> before shaking Harris’ hand, which continued throughout the night. Harris was poised, standing firmly on her policies, while Trump struggled to directly answer questions and made <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/trump-degrading-language-immigrants-rcna171120" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">racist claims about immigrants</a> and poor Americans.</p>



<p>As Trump made silly faces and referred to Harris as “this one” instead of her name and title, I was reminded of the ways Black people, especially Black women, have long been called upon to be the adults in the room. Thanks to both <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3000695" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">the adultification of Black girls</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/i-am-not-your-nice-mammy-how-racist-stereotypes-still-impact-women-111028" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">the mammy-fication of Black women</a>, Black people are required to be above reproach, emotionless, and with a heightened understanding of the feelings of white Americans. In many ways, Harris had to embody the role of “Momala” during the debate to assuage the fears of fragile white Americans, and some Americans of color, who were looking for her to be well-behaved, respectable, and unrattled.</p>



<p>Despite Trump’s overt disrespect and disregard for Harris’ station, many voters in the United States were interested in how Harris handled his childishness, his antics, his attacks, and his reactions, rather than judging her debate performance based on her expertise and preparedness for the role.</p>



<p>As I write in <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/673883/black-women-taught-us-by-jenn-m-jackson-phd/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"><em>Black Women Taught Us: An Intimate History of Black Feminism</em></a>, Black women who seek political office are often expected to be hypermasculine superheroes with the ability to save white Americans from problems they themselves have created. These expectations play into the stereotype of the unsexed, unattractive, obsequious mammy, whose only desire is to care for white families, nurse white children, and relieve white women of their household duties. When Barrymore asked Harris to mother the country, that is the stereotype she was referencing—and that’s what white Americans hoped to see at the debate.</p>



<p>This isn’t the first time we’ve witnessed a Black presidential candidate withhold their emotions during a debate while their white male opponent displayed uncontrollable bouts of anger. When then Senator Barack Obama debated the late Senator John McCain in 2008, I distinctly remember McCain referring to Obama as “<a href="https://nymag.com/intelligencer/2008/10/mccain_calls_obama_that_one_wh.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">that one</a>” and refusing to make eye contact with his opponent.</p>



<p>It’s a level of disrespect seemingly only tolerable when it’s exhibited by white men. But these behaviors are deeply rooted in anti-Blackness and the belief that Black Americans do not deserve the same level of regard and honor white Americans receive. We call that white supremacy.</p>



<p>And yet, in the face of impossible expectations, Harris managed to be pensive, thoughtful, clever, funny, and above her opponent’s demeaning critiques of her as a person. Regardless of your opinions of Harris, there are many people who will find safety and solace in her embodying the role of the country’s mammy, and they will care more about her performance of this insidious stereotype than anything she said on that debate stage.</p>



<p>But if we ever want to move past a political imagination limited to gender binaries and racial hierarchies, we must hope for more from anyone who stands to represent us. As such, it’s likely that those of us who believe in the fullness of Blackness and Black life have largely been left under-satisfied by Harris’ approach to this campaign.</p>



<p>Being white America’s “Momala” may win Harris the presidential race. It might even win her reelection in 2028. But it won’t challenge the expectations of those who see Black women as caricatures and reflections of their darkest fantasies. Being white America’s “Momala” won’t get us any closer to freedom—and it certainly won’t pave the way for the radical liberationist politics we need at this moment and moving forward.</p>

<p>This article originally appeared in <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org">Yes! Magazine</a> at <a href="https://dev-wp.yesmagazine.org/opinion/2024/10/10/black-women-harris-election">https://dev-wp.yesmagazine.org/opinion/2024/10/10/black-women-harris-election</a>.</p><link href="https://dev-wp.yesmagazine.org/opinion/2024/10/10/black-women-harris-election" rel="canonical"/><p>Yes! Magazine is a nonprofit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories of ... . Learn more at <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org">Yes! Magazine</a></p><img id="republication-tracker-tool-source" src="https://dev-wp.yesmagazine.org/?republication-pixel=true&post=122107&ga4=G-74QJNNY44Z" style="width:1px;height:1px;">

Being White America’s “Momala”

In May 2019, Vice President Kamala Harris posted a photo of herself flanked by her husband, Douglas Emhoff, and her stepchildren, Ella and Cole. In the accompanying caption, Harris wrote, “Grateful every day to be Momala to Ella and Cole.” Harris, sans makeup and dressed down, offered a public moment of vulnerability and tenderness with her family while using a term her stepchildren created just for her.

When Harris appeared on The Drew Barrymore Show in April 2024, Barrymore referenced that nickname. “That’s a great segue to say that I keep thinking in my head that we all need a mom,” Barrymore said. “I’ve been thinking that we really all need a tremendous hug in the world right now. But in our country, we need you to be ‘Momala’ of the country.”

I thought a lot about that moment while watching Harris debate former President Donald Trump in September. At the start of the debate, Trump appeared apprehensive before shaking Harris’ hand, which continued throughout the night. Harris was poised, standing firmly on her policies, while Trump struggled to directly answer questions and made racist claims about immigrants and poor Americans.

As Trump made silly faces and referred to Harris as “this one” instead of her name and title, I was reminded of the ways Black people, especially Black women, have long been called upon to be the adults in the room. Thanks to both the adultification of Black girls and the mammy-fication of Black women, Black people are required to be above reproach, emotionless, and with a heightened understanding of the feelings of white Americans. In many ways, Harris had to embody the role of “Momala” during the debate to assuage the fears of fragile white Americans, and some Americans of color, who were looking for her to be well-behaved, respectable, and unrattled.

Despite Trump’s overt disrespect and disregard for Harris’ station, many voters in the United States were interested in how Harris handled his childishness, his antics, his attacks, and his reactions, rather than judging her debate performance based on her expertise and preparedness for the role.

As I write in Black Women Taught Us: An Intimate History of Black Feminism, Black women who seek political office are often expected to be hypermasculine superheroes with the ability to save white Americans from problems they themselves have created. These expectations play into the stereotype of the unsexed, unattractive, obsequious mammy, whose only desire is to care for white families, nurse white children, and relieve white women of their household duties. When Barrymore asked Harris to mother the country, that is the stereotype she was referencing—and that’s what white Americans hoped to see at the debate.

This isn’t the first time we’ve witnessed a Black presidential candidate withhold their emotions during a debate while their white male opponent displayed uncontrollable bouts of anger. When then Senator Barack Obama debated the late Senator John McCain in 2008, I distinctly remember McCain referring to Obama as “that one” and refusing to make eye contact with his opponent.

It’s a level of disrespect seemingly only tolerable when it’s exhibited by white men. But these behaviors are deeply rooted in anti-Blackness and the belief that Black Americans do not deserve the same level of regard and honor white Americans receive. We call that white supremacy.

And yet, in the face of impossible expectations, Harris managed to be pensive, thoughtful, clever, funny, and above her opponent’s demeaning critiques of her as a person. Regardless of your opinions of Harris, there are many people who will find safety and solace in her embodying the role of the country’s mammy, and they will care more about her performance of this insidious stereotype than anything she said on that debate stage.

But if we ever want to move past a political imagination limited to gender binaries and racial hierarchies, we must hope for more from anyone who stands to represent us. As such, it’s likely that those of us who believe in the fullness of Blackness and Black life have largely been left under-satisfied by Harris’ approach to this campaign.

Being white America’s “Momala” may win Harris the presidential race. It might even win her reelection in 2028. But it won’t challenge the expectations of those who see Black women as caricatures and reflections of their darkest fantasies. Being white America’s “Momala” won’t get us any closer to freedom—and it certainly won’t pave the way for the radical liberationist politics we need at this moment and moving forward.