I'm a Single-Issue Voter

I need to make something abundantly clear: I refuse to cast a vote for any white politician who has or continues to promote racism and white supremacy. More than that, I refuse to accept blame from white folks when another racist politician is elected.

Sure, I maintain most of the usual liberal stances on social and economic issues (I’m actually much farther to the Left than most liberals). But no matter a candidate’s stance on these issues, no matter how much good they might do for our nation, no matter how despicable their opponent, if they promote the notion that whiteness is superior—or even the norm—they won’t be receiving my vote.

Photograph by Kiah J. Hufane

I didn’t always think this way. I used to entertain the whole lesser-of-two-evils analysis when it came to voting. I recall the dramatic Alabama Senate race between Democrat Doug Jones and credibly-accused pedophile Roy Moore. Although I wasn’t an Alabama resident, the choice still seemed obvious; the chance for a Democrat to snag a coveted Alabama senate seat seemed like a huge deal.

But then I got to thinking. What if I were living in Alabama and being asked to support Doug Jones? Could I really cast my vote for a Southern Democrat who has spent the majority of his career serving as a criminal prosecutor, putting black and brown men in cages?? Admittedly, Jones did a lot of good as a prosecutor. But if Alabama were a country, it would have a higher percentage of its citizens in jail/prison than any other country in the world. On top of that, the black to white incarceration ratio in the state is 3.3:1. Doug Jones was a big part of that. Had I been an Alabamian, he would not have gotten my vote.

As I survey the 2020 Democratic presidential candidate field, I watch as, one-by-one, the black and brown candidates are forced to drop out of the race due to lack of support and funding.

I watch as the man who reminisced about his relationship with the likes of notorious segregationist Senator Strom Thurmond and who helped author and who pushed through the horrifically-damaging 1994 Crime Bill maintain his national lead as “most electable.”

I watch the far-Left Socialist phenomenon throw his arms around white America and try to parse the difference between the guns in his home state of Vermont and those in big, bad (black) inner-city Chicago.

I watch candidates from the Midwest utilize racist dog whistles, suggesting (white) people from “the Heartland” have better morals and are somehow more hardworking than others.

They can miss me with all that. I’m not here for any of it.

To be clear, I’m not telling you who to vote for or endorsing any particular candidate with this piece. But I’ll be damned if I cast my vote for someone I can be sure will perpetuate white supremacy—no matter how horrible their opponent.

When it comes to voting preference, Black people have always been on the right side of history. Fifty-eight percent of white voters cast their ballot for Donald Trump, compared to 8% of black voters. With that in mind, this black voter will not accept blame when another overtly racist politician takes power.

This country seems to rely on black voters to swoop in and save us all—no matter how often that requires us to vote against our own blackness. And I’m over it.

Racism is white people’s to fix, not ours. I am willing to provide assistance and guidance where I can, but white people are the only group with the institutional power to eradicate this.

White supremacy trumps (pun intended) and indeed informs all other social and political issues most people consider when casting their ballots. For that reason, it’s by far the most important issue I consider when exercising—or refusing to exercise—my Constitutional right.