The Re-Election of Donald Trump: An American Story in Black and White

The United States of America has long propagated itself as the beacon of light, justice, liberty, and democracy. It is a nation built on ideals so powerful that they are etched into the collective memory of the world as the “American Dream.” This dream whispers promises of boundless opportunity: an invitation to millions from Asia, Africa, Europe, and Latin America to pursue life, liberty, and happiness. Millions a year seek access to it, captivated by the allure that, with hard work and smart choices, anyone can transcend their beginnings and rise to prosperity.

For African Americans, however, the dream has always been a different story. We know another version of America—a tale that reeks of betrayal. In this narrative, America's grand promises are weighed down by legacies of human trafficking, exploitation, terrorism, and relentless violence. African Americans’ relationship with this nation has been less an embrace of the American Dream and more a hard-won survival, a resistance to oppression, a stubborn demand that America live up to its ideals. The re-election of Donald Trump, a man who has openly appealed to the darkest recesses of America’s racial fears and bigotry, wasn’t a surprise for many of us—it was an inevitable outcome.

A History of Betrayal

Our people have grown weary and wise to the betrayal that lives in America’s highest office. As Dewey M. Clayton writes in his work, “A Historical Analysis of Racism Within the U.S. Presidency,” Trump’s xenophobic and racist rhetoric was not new; it was simply an unveiling of sentiments that have long existed. “Neither Trump’s rhetoric nor negative sentiments towards racial minorities were new to the presidency,” Clayton asserts. Trump's self-proclaimed “nationalism” is what many of us have recognized as a code—a call back to white nationalism, to the belief that the United States was founded to serve White supremacy, to protect a racial hierarchy that has resisted every call for equality and justice.

This betrayal is not an anomaly in the American story. It is the root of it. Beginning in 1901, more than 200 anti-lynching bills were introduced in Congress to protect African Americans from the terrorism of lynching. Over and over, the White House turned away from these bills, fearing the loss of White Southern support. It was, after all, easier to placate those who demanded the right to terrorize than it was to defend Black lives.

Even President Franklin Roosevelt, the man who led America through the Great Depression and World War II, stood silent on this atrocity, refusing to support anti-lynching legislation despite the passionate pleas of his wife, Eleanor. His response, chilling in its candor, echoed America’s long-standing political cowardice: “If I come out for the anti-lynching bill now, (White Southern Democrats) will block every bill I ask Congress to pass to keep America from collapsing. I just can’t take the risk.” So Black lives were sacrificed on the altar of political expedience, and it would take more than a century—until 2022, when President Joe Biden signed the Emmett Till Anti-Lynching Act—for African Americans to receive federal protection from lynching.

Echoes of an American Nightmare

Trump’s re-election, his appeal to the most racist, xenophobic, and misogynist elements of the American populace, is not surprising to those of us who understand America’s two faces. America often dons the mask of liberty, but it clings tightly to the specter of its old sins, sins that continue to shape its policies and political leaders. Trump is merely the latest in a line of presidents who have exploited racial tensions for political gain, who have betrayed the trust and loyalty of African Americans.

For African Americans, Trump’s re-election is a rude awakening, a stark reminder of the American dream deferred. When Trump and his allies stoke fear of “the other,” painting immigrants, Black activists, and marginalized communities as threats to “real Americans,” they are merely retreading the same ground that presidents have walked since the beginning. Trump’s hostility may feel unprecedented in its brazenness, but the hostility itself is not new. It’s a hostility that African Americans have felt regardless of the party in power, and one that reminds us, painfully, that we must never sleep too deeply under the lull of progress.

On election night, the collective gasp among African Americans was not shock at what happened but a visceral reaction to the confirmation that America’s long, troubled legacy of betrayal had struck again. It is the jolt that wakes us up, that reminds us to “stay woke.”

We are our Ancestors

As we brace for what is likely to be a hostile administration, we must remember the long path we have walked, the lessons learned from our ancestors who navigated an America that did not see their humanity. We must channel the resilience of those who, despite the whips, chains, and threats of lynching, built families, churches, schools, and institutions that still stand as testament to Black endurance and brilliance.

The victories of those who came before us were not gifts from a benevolent government; they were wrested from the clenched fists of those who resisted justice. The Civil Rights Movement, the Black Power Movement, and the ongoing calls for justice in movements like Black Lives Matter are all built on the determination of people who refused to let America’s betrayals silence them. They fought, organized, and demanded that America be held to its promise.

The re-election of Trump is but a setback, a reminder that America’s moral progress has always been a struggle, always a fight. This moment in history demands that we dig deep and find strength in the knowledge that we are the heirs of those who fought far greater odds. And even though we may grow weary, we know that our battle is not new, and neither are the stakes.

A Time For Action

If America is truly to be the beacon of light it claims to be, it must confront its contradictions. It cannot continue to offer the American Dream to some while reserving a nightmare for others. African Americans have long known this truth, and now we call on our allies, our communities, and ourselves to demand accountability. We must continue the work of dismantling the structures that Trump and others exploit—those systems built to uphold a status quo rooted in white supremacy.

In this time of uncertainty, we must not let the re-election of a divisive figure deter us. Instead, we must let it sharpen our resolve, embolden our actions, and remind us that we are not strangers to struggle. America’s history may be fraught with betrayal, but our story—our African American story—is one of resilience, courage, and the enduring belief that we deserve the promise of America, that we will continue to fight for it, for ourselves and for generations to come.

So, we move forward with the echoes of Baldwin in our hearts and the steadiness of our resolve guiding us. We will face this hostile administration as we have faced so many others—with determination, with unity, and with a vision for an America that does not simply promise freedom but delivers it. We will continue to insist that America be as good as its promise, knowing that we, too, are part of that promise, and we will not be erased.