Illustration by Rachel Maves
On Nov. 8, 2016, I dressed with added attention and intention: navy pantsuit, white shirt, Rosy the Riveter socks, necklace with the initials of my family members. My outfit represented my hope. Later that morning, I cast my vote at Rural Point Elementary School in Mechanicsville with my son in my arms, my daughter in my wife’s arms in the booth to my right, and my sister in the booth to my left. I cast my vote in my white shirt to honor the suffragettes who fought hard for me, a woman, to be able to vote. I cast my vote wearing blue for a Democrat whose values align with my own. I cast my vote in a pantsuit, which fuses gender and politics perfectly and represented my candidate. Lastly, I cast my vote wearing my Rosie the Riveter socks as a statement that “Yes, we can” finally shatter the glass ceiling.
During the months leading up to the election, the dominant narrative, at least in some circles, was that on Nov. 8, this metaphorical ceiling would shatter because “love trumps hate.” Despite calls for female voters to play the “#womancard,” headlines on Nov. 9 did not proclaim a historic breakthrough for women, but rather, as both The New York Times and The Washington Post announced, “Trump Triumphs.” Instead of the first woman in the White House, we’ll have the first president never to have held political, government or military office.
As a sociology professor who has spent the last 16 or so years primarily studying social inequality, I worried throughout the election season about how divisive the campaign was along major demographic lines: race, class, gender, education. How can we make sense of this election? Did identity politics both win and lose?
I spent much of Nov. 9 trying to console students who cried uncontrollably in my office or classroom at Randolph-Macon College because they were scared about what the next administration meant for their local community, their state and the nation. Like these students, I, along with many of my colleagues and friends, feel a tremendous amount of fear based on the election results. This fear is not based on “being a sore loser,” but on hostile statements and proposed policies targeting marginalized communities by the president-elect, his running mate and a fraction of their supporters. Those of us who genuinely approach the next four years with fearful suspicion about our safety are not assuaged by dismissive claims about overreaction. Recent headlines noting intimidation, harassment or assault against people on the basis of their group status have fueled the fear rather than alleviated it.
So how do we find hope?
While the 2016 election may signal a loss of confidence or gloomy political horizons for women, this isn’t the complete picture. At both the national and state levels, women did shatter glass ceilings in numerous ways. Oregonians elected Kate Brown, the first openly LGBTQ governor. Women of color within the U.S. Senate quadrupled. Incoming members include Catherine Cortez Masto of Nevada, who became the body’s first Latina; Tammy Duckworth of Illinois, the first Thai-American to be elected; and California’s Kamala Harris, who is of Indian-American and Jamaican-American descent and is the first black woman from California and second black woman ever elected to the Senate. They join current Sen. Mazie Hirono of Hawaii, the first Japanese-American woman elected.
In the House of Representatives, Lisa Blunt Rochester will be the first African-American to represent Delaware, Pramila Jayapal of Washington is the first Indian-American women elected and Stephanie Murphy of Florida is the first Vietnamese-American woman elected. Finally, at the state level, Ilhan Omar, a Muslim woman who is a Somali-American immigrant, was elected to the Minnesota legislature.
What have we learned? What have we yet to learn? How do we react?
Historic wins notwithstanding, as the illusion of living in a post-racial, more just society eroded for many voters, they began to organize both in person and online to push for change and challenge the new administration. One example is the rapid growth of Pantsuit Nation, which started as a “secret” Facebook group of Hillary Clinton supporters sharing stories and strategies (as of Dec. 5, membership was at more than 3.9 million, with more than 11,500 in a local spin-off, Together We Will RVA). In recent weeks, Richmond area nonprofits such as the Virginia League for Planned Parenthood, the ACLU of Virginia and Side by Side have reported a surge in participation and financial contributions. Additionally, a grassroots movement is mobilizing people to attend the Women’s March on Washington on Jan. 21, the new president’s first full day in office. Multiple buses and carpoolers from Richmond are going, and I plan to be there with my family.
The late Shirley Chisholm, the first African-American congresswoman and first black woman in a major party to seek the presidential nomination, once said, “You don’t make progress by standing on the sidelines, whimpering and complaining. You make it by implementing ideas.”
America, get ready for big ideas.
Sarah E. Cribbs is an assistant professor of sociology and affiliated faculty member of women’s studies and black studies at Randolph-Macon College in Ashland.
