Kamala Harris: A Reflection of My (Somewhat Chaotic) Life

 

Kamala Harris: A Reflection of My (Somewhat Chaotic) Life

Kamala Harris: A Reflection of My (Somewhat Chaotic) Life

You know, every time I hear Kamala Harris speak, I can't help but think, “Wow, she really reminds me of me!” And before you roll your eyes and say, “Oh, here we go again,” let me clarify: I’m not a liar. Nope! I’m not dishonest, either. I try my best to stick to what I say, even if it sometimes feels like I’m trying to juggle flaming torches while riding a unicycle on a tightrope.

You see, I’m a listener. If someone says something that makes sense, I’m all ears! I mean, who doesn’t love a good debate, right? I soak up knowledge like a sponge at a water park. I listen to my peers, my mentors, and anyone who’s ever been in the same room as me and has a hint of wisdom. So, when I see Kamala Harris tackling issues that resonate with me, it brings up memories and “triggers” I thought I had buried deep in the “never to be opened” box in my mind. Spoiler alert: those bruises? Yeah, they’re invisible.

Let’s rewind a bit to my teenage years. I worked at McDonald’s for a hot minute. Yes, you heard that right! I was the proud fryer of French fries, flipping and serving like a culinary ninja. But when I tell people this, they look at me as if I just claimed I was a secret agent. “You worked at McDonald’s? Really?” Yes, really! It was to help my family and let me tell you, that job taught me more about life than any classroom ever could. But do you think I put that on my resume? Heck no! That’s like putting “master of awkward small talk” on a job application!

Now, let’s talk about names. Growing up, I absolutely hated mine. It was like my parents decided to give me a puzzle instead of a name. Seriously! People were so lazy with pronunciation that I felt like I was in an ongoing game of “Guess My Name.” I even went to great lengths to shorten it. Looking back, I realize that was more about the disrespectful people around me than my parents' choice. But as a kid, you don’t see that. You just think, “Great, my name is complicated, and it’s all my fault!”

Fast forward to today, and Kamala Harris faces the same mockery over her name. It’s like a blast from the past, and suddenly, all those unresolved trauma llamas are stampeding through my thoughts. Another attack on her character feels like a personal jab. Seriously, can we not?

And then there’s the race thing. Oh boy, grab the popcorn! Being a person of colour born in England and now living in the USA has its challenges. If I had a penny for whenever someone asked, “Where are you really from?” I’d be lounging on a beach somewhere, sipping a piña colada. And no, I’m not talking about the fancy “I’m on vacation” kind of beach. I’m talking about the “I’m now a millionaire thanks to this ridiculous question” kind of beach!

The questions were always tinged with doubt as if my Britishness was some sort of elaborate prank. “Are you really Muslim?” they’d ask as if I had a secret identity like Batman. As a child, I felt like I had to defend my existence. So, when I see Kamala Harris facing similar scrutiny, it hits hard.

Now, let’s tackle the elephant in the room: the “liar” label. Oh my goodness! She’s a planner! Just like me! I was once a support manager, not the head honcho, but you better believe I could manage my department like a boss. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the power to change policies unless my direct manager gave me a nod. It’s like being a kid in a candy store but being told you can only look, not touch.

Kamala’s got to navigate the same tricky waters. She’s planning her debates and crafting her speeches, and sometimes it goes sideways—just like my attempts at cooking after a glass (or three) of wine! Trust me, planning is critical.

And let’s talk about that laugh of hers. People complain about it, but I’ve been there! I’ve been told my laugh is “too loud” or “too quirky.” What is this, a competition for the softest giggle? I was just a joyful person who loved to laugh! I still do! If joy were a currency, I’d be a billionaire and give out free laughter like confetti.

So, everything that’s been happening with Kamala Harris? It’s not just political chatter for me; it’s a personal healing journey. It’s helping me confront the choices I made about my name, my job, and my race. So, thank you, Kamala Harris! Or should I say, “Thank you, Donald Trump,” for bringing these issues to the forefront?

I may not be running for the most critical job in the world, but I wholeheartedly believe that if someone embodies resilience and strength, it’s Kamala. Watching her handle herself in debates? That’s a masterclass in composure!

So here’s my advice to everyone: instead of being reactors, learn from this woman. If someone’s louder, turn down the volume of the drama. If someone mocks you? Hit them back with facts and calmness—no need for name-calling! Have a plan, but remember: one size does NOT fit all. Let’s navigate this wild ride together!

 This is just my personal view, and I understand if you might not agree.