The University of Southern California abruptly cancelled a gubernatorial debate just twenty-four hours before it was scheduled to begin. The reason? All six candidates who met the qualifications – based on polling and fundraising – were white. A swift accusation followed from Democratic candidates of color, alleging exclusion.
But consider this: their platforms, on critical issues like housing, crime, taxes, and homelessness, were remarkably similar. Does the color of a candidate’s skin truly alter their stance on raising taxes, or criticizing a former president? The core beliefs seemed aligned, regardless of racial background.
A growing body of evidence suggests race is becoming less of a defining factor in modern America. A recent report from the Brookings Institution revealed that a staggering 90% of respondents stated race doesn’t influence their business decisions, and 83% feel the same about choosing friends.
Yet, some within the Democratic party appear to believe voters prioritize a candidate who *looks* like them. This belief, however, carries a dangerous implication: stray from the accepted progressive narrative, and face swift condemnation, even if you share the same racial identity. Representative Ayanna Pressley famously declared a need for “Black voices” – not simply “Black faces.”
This sentiment sharply contrasts with Barack Obama’s own words, delivered at Howard University in 2016, where he emphasized, “…there’s no one way to be Black.” The pressure to conform to a specific ideological mold, dictated by race, is undeniably present.
During a 2021 California gubernatorial recall election, a columnist for a major newspaper labelled me, a Black candidate, “the Black face of white supremacy.” The accusation stemmed from my belief that racism is no longer the dominant force it once was, my opposition to race-based policies, and my advocacy for traditional values. She declined a direct conversation to explain the reasoning behind such a harsh label.
The election of Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass, the city’s first Black female mayor, was hailed as a monumental achievement, with the refrain “representation matters” echoing throughout the media. Yet, had I won the governorship, I would have become the first Black governor in California’s history – a fact that received significantly less attention.
The hypocrisy isn’t isolated. A leaked recording revealed several Hispanic Los Angeles city council members engaging in deeply offensive, racist remarks about a Black child, alongside antisemitic and homophobic slurs. The conversation, centered around manipulating district lines to diminish Black political power, chillingly resembled a scene from a dark chapter of American history.
Despite these glaring issues, a critical problem remains largely unaddressed by these same politicians: the devastating impact of children growing up without fathers. This epidemic, particularly acute within the Black community, is a far more potent driver of poverty, educational failure, and crime than any racial grievance.
Statistics paint a stark picture. Roughly 70% of Black children are born to unmarried mothers, compared to 54% for Hispanics, 27% for non-Hispanic whites, and just 12% for Asians. Overall, 40% of U.S. births now occur outside of marriage. Children lacking a consistently present, married father are significantly more likely to experience poverty, drop out of school, and become involved in criminal activity.
Democrats, who often control urban policy, rarely prioritize addressing this fundamental issue. Despite generations of control over major school districts, Black eighth-graders consistently score in the low teens on national math and reading assessments. While advocating against school choice, many Democratic politicians privately enroll their own children in private institutions.
The focus remains on superficial diversity – debates with candidates who *look* a certain way – even when their ideologies are indistinguishable. The children caught in this political crossfire deserve a genuine focus on the factors that truly impact their futures, not empty gestures of representation.
