Somebody Has To Say It; So, It Might As Well Be Me!
Recently while visiting the mall, I saw some of everything shower caps, hair rollers, pajamas, sagging pants, leggings that show
Commentary By Gary L. Hailes Co-Founder, President of Business Affairs, The Triangle Group
Dear Vice President Kamala Harris,
The past seven days have been filled with a rollercoaster of emotions. For me, the decision not to vote early was a conscious one, despite the convenience of shorter lines and getting it out of the way.
Like my father before me, the ritual of getting up early on Election Day, putting on a suit and tie, and heading to the polling place has always meant something. I took great pride in walking in with my head held high, making direct eye contact with each and every one in line, and ensuring that I was seen—not just by the poll workers, but by my neighbors and community.
The excitement of casting my vote for you was profound. While it was historic, it was more about the certainty in my heart that, regardless of gender, ethnicity, or heritage, the best candidate would win.
When you announced your candidacy, I was proud to tell everyone I knew that you were the answer, the promise that God had given us that the change former President Barrack Obama spoke of coming, had arrived.
This wasn’t just about making history; it was about showing the world what we, as Black men, have known all our lives: that there is a strength and resolve within Black women that can help lead us all. I truly believed your victory would be a step in saving democracy.
However, as the election night turned to morning and disappointment set in, we found ourselves questioning what happened—and why.
As I reflect on the past 180 or so days and think about our incredible culture, I realize that we owe you, and every grandmother, mother, aunt, sister, wife, and daughter, a deep and sincere apology.
My expectation was that many outside of our community might have had difficulty supporting a Black woman, even with your impressive credentials. But I must confess, I failed to recognize that many of us within the Black community, who should be lifting up our women, have too often been part of the problem.
For far too long, we've allowed our culture to degrade our women by casually referring to them as "bitches" and "hoes," reducing them to something less than their true worth.
How then, could we expect others to respect and uplift our Black women when we have failed to give them the respect they deserve? How could we expect society to take our Black professional women seriously when we so often dehumanize and disrespect them in lyrics and videos that we use?
Even now, we have a leader who will represent us on the world stage—yet he, too, uses foul and unflattering language to describe not just our women, but all women.
This is something we must change, and we must change it loudly, the same way we allowed it to happen and participated in it. I believe the mistake we made, by allowing this narrative to take root, has come at a cost.
We are deeply sorry for that, and we recognize that we’ve played a part in allowing it to continue.
Please accept our apology, and don’t give up on us. Our promise is that we will do better. We certainly knew better.