“You are not any more or any less than what your experiences allow you to be.” Those are the words of Representative Jim Clyburn, whom I like to call my political father. I’ve heard him say that countless times over the years, and I find myself thinking about it more and more as I look toward the 2026 midterms. That line came back to me recently while recording an episode of At Our Table with my friend Senator Ruben Gallego. We were talking about the challenge of working with political consultants who don’t always understand the lived experiences of candidates of color. We talked about the importance of listening and learning from the communities we want to serve.
Your Black Friend from CollegeI grew up in a world that knew nothing of the Ivy League. Where I come from, Yale might as well have been on Mars. When I arrived there in the 1990s, I found myself in an environment where very few people looked like me, and most came from backgrounds far wealthier than mine. In essence, I felt like a Walmart kid on Rodeo Drive. That experience taught me how to listen, how to bridge differences, and how to recognize just how wide the gaps can be between what we live and what we imagine about other people’s lives. So here’s what strikes me about consultants—particularly those who come from elite schools or upper-middle-class backgrounds: nearly all of you seem to have encountered a magical figure I never met. This mythical being has the power to instantly grant cultural knowledge and empathy that many people spend a lifetime trying to develop. I’m speaking of course about the Black Friend from college. If you’re a white political consultant, and especially if you went to an Ivy League school, you probably had one. It’s like they handed you this Black Friend (or Latino, or Asian when needed) at orientation. And through that friendship, you gained the confidence to believe you can speak with authority about communities you don’t belong to. Here’s the problem: one friend does not make you fluent in the lived experience of millions of voters. But far too often, I’ve sat in meetings where consultants wave that credential like a golden ticket. They assure candidates that they “understand the community,” only to offer advice that’s tone-deaf at best and harmful at worst. To my friends from Yale—I’m sorry I didn’t have the power to grant you infinite knowledge about Black folks. But I hope learning more about me inspired you to continue taking the time to listen and learn a few things about other people from different backgrounds. Lived Experiences MatterPolitics is about connection, not performance. And connection requires humility about what you don’t know. Everybody isn’t going to be on the same page about every single thing. That’s true across race, geography, class, and generation. You may have the best intentions, but that is not enough. If you want to gain people’s trust, you have to understand that their experiences matter. They shape how they see the world and how they see you. I spent my years as DNC Chair traveling to barbershops, gyms, and churches. I sat with Black and Latino men in roundtables across the country. And I listened. Here’s what they told me: they saw the Democratic Party as soft. Weak. Not willing to fight. They weren’t saying they loved Donald Trump or the Republican Party. They were saying they admired that Republicans stood up—loudly—for whatever they believed in, even if the substance was nonsense. Meanwhile, Democrats didn’t always project that same fight. It makes perfect sense when you think about it. Look at those communities. Nothing is ever handed to them. They wake up every morning expecting a struggle. They expect to fight for their pay check or for keeping their families healthy or for just being seen at all. And they expect leaders who are willing to do the same. That was eye-opening. And I carried those conversations back to Washington because they mattered. These were voices we rarely heard in DC strategy meetings. Yet they represented the very voters we needed to understand if we wanted to build real coalitions. So imagine my surprise when someWhite House staff chose to follow the advice of consultants analyzing polls instead of what I heard with my own ears. Consultants, that’s the lesson: you can’t just analyze people from afar. You have to go where they are. You have to hear them. And you have to carry that truth back into the rooms where decisions are made. Beyond Representation: What Listening Really MeansWe’ve all learned the importance of “diverse voices” and “expanding who sits at the table.” That’s not the issue anymore. The issue is what you do once those voices are there. It’s not enough to nod, take notes, and then return to your comfort zone. Listening means adapting strategy. It means respecting that experience matters as much as data. And it means building campaigns that reflect communities as they are, not as you imagine them to be. This doesn’t mean candidates must change everything about who they are. It doesn’t mean throwing polling out the window. What it means is doing the work to find common ground—and not assuming you already know what that ground looks like because of a single friendship or a demographic memo. Why This Matters NowThe Democratic Party is the biggest tent in American politics. That’s our strength. But it’s also our challenge. We can’t afford lazy shortcuts or arrogance from the people advising our candidates. Not in 2026. Midterms are always about turnout, trust, and energy. And right now, too many voters don’t feel like we’re fighting for them. They’re not asking for perfection. They’re asking to be seen. To be heard. To know that their lived experiences matter to the people asking for their votes. Consultants, that responsibility falls on you as much as it falls on candidates. You shape the strategy. You frame the message. You decide whose voices are amplified and whose are ignored. So here’s my ask: stop relying on your “Black Friend from Yale.” Stop believing that proximity is the same thing as understanding. Instead, go where people are. Sit with them. Listen deeply. And then carry their truth into the rooms where you advise. Because heading into 2026, the stakes are too high for anything less. You're currently a free subscriber to Jaime's Table. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
|
Sunday, August 31, 2025
An Open Letter to Political Consultants
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment