At the National Association of Black Journalists convention in Chicago last month, former President Donald Trump insinuated that Vice President Kamala Harris, who is of Jamaican and South Asian heritage, isn’t Black.
The audience gasped; Harris, the Democrats’ presidential nominee, has long identified as Black, is an HBCU graduate and a member of a storied Black sorority. The Black journalists interviewing Trump, Harris’ Republican opponent, pushed back hard, but he doubled down on the assertion.
Pushing racist boundaries has been a staple of Trump’s political rhetoric, since he questioned the citizenship of former President Barack Obama. He’ll likely dial that tactic up to 11 against Harris, who has a slim lead over Trump in several key polls.
Frankly, It’s all a bit wearying. But it’s also sadly familiar to most Black people who regularly experience microaggressions — racist slights, backhanded compliments and insults, usually camouflaged in polite language.
Having a white coworker compliment how well you speak, or a white stranger asking to touch your hair can trigger anxiety and depression, says Dr. Jameca Woody Cooper, a Black woman and licensed psychologist who practices in St. Louis. With Trump expected to increase his racist attacks on Harris, Black people watching the election will have increased exposure to second-hand microaggressions as the presidential campaign grinds on.
“These challenging circumstances can profoundly impact an individual’s self-esteem and self-perception,” says Cooper. “Many of my therapy patients have been describing how the election has impacted their mental health.”
Microaggressions are usually directed at a member of a marginalized group or anyone seen as a numerical minority. The phrases and actions can relate to any aspect of someone’s identity such as race, gender, sexuality, parental status, socioeconomic background, or mental health issues.
“It is the subtle nature [of the offense] that gives perpetrators an escape or excuse to deny accountability and to gaslight the receiver,” says Dr. Renee Carr, a psychologist in the Washington, D.C., area. “The receiver is impacted by knowing the intent behind the microaggression but being unable to defend themselves.”
When confronted, Carr says, the perpetrator denies an intent to harm, or blames the victim for being sensitive, a race baiter, angry, or other derogatory labels.
While microaggressions are unavoidable in the ordinary lives of Black Americans, it’s become part of regular conversation during the presidential election.
In Chicago, Trump insisted he “didn’t know [Harris] was Black until a number of years ago when she happened to turn Black and now she wants to be known as Black,” the former president said. “So I don’t know. Is she Indian or is she Black?”
The microaggressions continued on the campaign trail: Ohio Sen. JD Vance, Trump’s running mate, suggested “woke” critics will say Vance’s love of Diet Mountain Dew is “racist, too.” Even Sen. Tim Scott of South Carolina — the only Black Republican in the Senate and a dedicated Trump surrogate — used the tactic, declaring that “America is not a racist country.”
Michael Bugeja, an Iowa State University professor who studies media, ethics and technology, believes Trump himself is executing a verbal power grab by deliberately challenging Harris’s ethnicity and blurring the lines between race and nationality.
“When Trump misuses these terms, he can decide who is and is not a real American. It’s a common microaggression,” Bugeja wrote in an essay on Poynter.org, a media news and ethics website.. “American citizens of Asian descent are routinely asked, “Where are you from, really?” People of Latino, Middle Eastern and African heritage are excluded in certain communities by skin color alone.”
But Black people, individually and collectively, pay a big price for microaggressions. Studies show constant exposure to it can lead to chronic stress, clinical depression, and physical illness.
Racism and discrimination in the form of microaggressions “contribute to poor health among minorities and people of color, resulting in increased rates of depression, prolonged stress and trauma, anxiety, even heart disease and type 2 diabetes,” according to a fact sheet from the pharmaceutical giant Pfizer.
One study, according to the fact sheet, “examined the racial climate and microaggressions at college campuses and found that African American students experienced more depression, self-doubt, frustration, and isolation that impacted their education as a result.”
Cooper, the St. Louis therapist, says for young Black men and women voting for the first time, experiencing or being the target of microaggressions or racial slurs is significant.
“On one hand, it could potentially lead to them feeling more empowered and enthusiastic about actively participating in the political process” she says. “On the other hand, the disadvantages of such experiences should not be understated, as they could lead to increased stress, fear, and a decreased interest in being socially engaged,”
Mental health professionals agree it’s important for Black people to have access to culturally competent mental health services to help maintain balance — a challenge due to the lack of Black mental health professionals. Still, they advocate using exercise or mindfulness practices, such as meditation or prayer, to help manage anxiety and depression.
Others say that, sometimes, it’s just best to lean into cultivating joy.
Researchers with the BIG JOY Project at the University of California at Berkeley found that people who deliberately engaged in just seven minutes of joyful activities every day — viewing nature, perhaps, or sharing someone else’s joyful moments — for one week reported feeling happier than before.
“When we take action, it truly doesn’t just drive our motivation, but it can have a profound impact on our emotional state of being,” former University of Pennsylvania professor Stephanie Harrison said in an interview with EveryDay health. “It’s a recipe for a fair amount of unhappiness to sit at home and stress about an outcome.”
