Opinion: I Feel Hope Right Now. It’s So Embarrassing
It looks like there’s a pretty good chance Vice President Kamala Harris will be the Democratic candidate in this year’s presidential election, and there’s a weird vibe going around among people I know.
See, Democrats always try to be strategists about elections. There’s usually a lot of talk from rank-and-file party members about voting based on how other people will vote. “I’m worried about Vice President Harris because other people are racist,” they say. Or, “I just don’t think people in [random state that they’ve never been to] will vote for a woman.”
Even liberals who have nice things to say about Harris have sometimes felt like they have to qualify them. “I don’t love Kamala, but you have to admit she gave a great speech on living in the context of all that came before you,” for example. And, “I’m not a Kamala fan, but she really managed to tear apart Bill Barr in that hearing.”
Now I don’t mean that as an insult. I do it too. We feel the need to say—and to remind our peers—that we know no candidate is perfect. We’re not naive. Politicians are by nature egocentric weirdos and it’s important that we don’t worship them or elevate them into something they’re not.
But Sunday felt different somehow. And I’ve decided for the moment, as a little treat, I’m going to let myself have something I haven’t had in a while—hope. There, I said it.
I feel hope right now and it’s so embarrassing. I’m a comedian. I spent years writing for late night TV shows, making fun of the news. We don’t like things. We mock them! We roll our eyes. We hate-watch and doom-scroll. But you know what? Just for kicks, this election season I’m going try hoping for something again.
Kamala Harris Must Be the Candidate. This Is How She Beats Trump
Ugh. I’m so sorry. I just heard myself say that. It’s so uncool to think things are good. Even now I’m literally restraining myself from writing down all of Kamala Harris’s flaws, just so you’ll know that I know. Because of course I know!
But I’m not going to. Not because any presidential candidate is flawless, but because in this case “good enough” is actually pretty fantastic. Kamala Harris is not just better than Trump, because I could say that about a stick of butter, a seven mile-long CVS receipt or whoever wrote the song “Video Killed the Radio Star” (I assume. I didn’t Google them. Please don’t make me Google, because then the song will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.) She’s not just better than the alternative—she’s very good at her job, and I believe has the makings of a great president.
As others have stated, she’s a former prosecutor running against a felon. She’s a woman who can speak about abortion and reproductive rights running against the man who takes credit for overturning Roe v Wade. She’s a strong, effective politician fighting against a former president who lost his last election.
If you’re still reading, it’s about to get worse, because I’m going to write a sentence that would look great on a decorative pillow. Yeah I’m going to Live-Laugh-Love the hell out of this article. Here I go: Hope is a choice.
On Sunday night, I was sitting in my apartment feeling good about the fact that we have a President who cares more about his country than about his ego. I was feeling even better about the fact that we have a Vice President ready to step in, take the reins, and move a movement forward. But then my brain jumped in: “REMEMBER THE LAST TIME YOU WERE OPTIMISTIC? REMEMBER PRESIDENTIAL IMMUNITY AND CLARENCE THOMAS AND THAT THING WHERE TRUMP YELLED ‘HANNIBAL LECTER’ AND PEOPLE CHEERED FOR SOME REASON? HOW CAN YOU LET YOURSELF FEEL LIKE THINGS COULD BE OK AGAIN FOR A SINGLE MINUTE, YOU STUPID IDIOT?”
And then I (horrifyingly) said to myself, “You know what? I am going to make the executive decision to hope.” Because why not? It’s not like guacamole. It doesn’t cost extra. And contrary to popular belief, it won’t hurt less if Harris loses because I get to say “I knew it” afterward.
Besides, this isn’t like hoping that the Mets win the World Series or that “Hacks” puts out a new episode every week for the rest of my life. We actually get a say here. (Do not write to me about the Electoral College. I have, in fact, read books.) Hope turns into other things. It means showing up. It means talking to your friends. It means phone banking because you care about your country more than you hate phone calls—just barely.
I woke up today and saw that on a couple of hours’ notice, some 45,000 people showed up for a Zoom call organized by a group called Win With Black Women to help the Harris campaign. Democrats raised $81 million in just 24 hours after Joe Biden’s announcement. I hate all the money that goes into politics, but it is undeniably an indication of enthusiasm. I’m not the only one out here feeling optimistic, and yes, hopeful.
But I do still hate those CVS receipts, and that is something.
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