By continuing to use our site, you agree to our Private Policy and Terms of Use.
When Harris was finished on Tuesday, the crowd left the Ellipse peacefully, returning to their cars, their buses, their homes, and their lives — with hope, John Casey writes.
I went back to Washington, D.C., over the summer on my 60th birthday to attend the Pride Month celebration at Vice President Kamala Harris’ home at the Naval Observatory. I had a few hours to kill before the soiree, so I took a run along the Potomac River, and up and down the National Mall.
It was also a run filled with juxtapositions. It was 37 years ago that I first ran down the Mall in awe, taking in the splendor and history. I had moved to D.C. to work on Capitol Hill. I was 23 years old, and I had my whole life ahead of me.
Now at 60. I traversed the Mall like I used to do every day for seven years decades earlier. I was still in awe. It never gets old. But I’ve gotten old…well older. Most of my life is behind me now, and that’s a jarring thing to think about. Little did I know 37 years ago that my journey would bring me back here one day as an accomplished man.
2024 Election Coverage from The Advocate:
- Why The Advocate endorses Kamala Harris for president
- How pro-LGBTQ+ is Kamala Harris?
- Our 2024 LGBTQ+ voter guide
- Kamala Harris's 'first priority' as president
- Where does Donald Trump stand on LGBTQ+ rights?
Then, I hit the Ellipse. And I stopped. And for a moment, all I could think about was January 6, 2021 and what it must have been like that day. Who was standing where I was? Most likely an unaccomplished man with grievances and heart full of contempt. The dichotomy of that thought was striking.
I was at the spot where former President Donald Trump started the insurrection. It’s where the White House Christmas tree sits. Now, I surmised that it would always be remembered as the place where Trump incited a riot. Just one more thing he has stained.
But not anymore. On Tuesday night, Harris in a soaring — and inclusive — speech, and with a crowd that outnumbered — by far — Trump’s insurrectionists, replaced that dark stain with a bright spotlight of hope. Behind her was the White House, something else Trump soiled, but with Biden in residence, it glistened behind her,
And it will remain bright when she moves in. She will. More on that soon.
The idea to have her appear on the Ellipse was genius. The media loves contrasts, I certainly do. The juxtaposition of Harris speaking with a smile with Trump speaking with a snee. Buoyant crowds versus armed mobs. The sparkle of fall colors versus the chill and darkness of winter. Aspiration versus desperation. Harris versus Trump.
The winner is obvious.
That day running on the Mall, in a baking summer heat, my blood boiled thinking about the fires of tyranny in the mob that were lit by Trump on that January day. Last night, it was a crowd waving American flags on sticks versus hordes holding reprehensible flags on poles. Obnoxious confederate flags, Trump flags and upside down American flags — the same poles used to crash the windows of the Capitol.
Among everything that was going on, that’s what stood out for me. Flags. Harris and her crowd of small flags comes off as accepting, normal. Trump, with those flags perched on weapons, comes off as menacing and sinister.
Tuesday night, if Americans were paying attention, and they usually do during the last week of the election, what they saw was a true leader, with inspirational and aspirational words intended to lift each of us up, lift the country up, and carry us forward.
It was the ultimate contrast to Trump’s vanity and hate-fueled rally at Madison Square Garden just two days before. That rally was a disaster of epic proportions, where a diminished man, surrounded by bigots, spewed hateful words, with the intent to insult, bully and degrade, knocking the country down, and taking us back to an era where white nationalism roamed free.
Harris roared at the convention. She floored at the debate. And she soared Tuesday night. By contrast, Harris looked tall while Trump looked diminutive.
In her short time at the top of the ticket, Harris has run a stellar campaign. That is not true of Trump by any measure. He failed America for four years, and he’s failed the electorate for the last year. He’s a failure. She’s a winner.
If you follow Harris obsessively, she didn’t say anything new Tuesday night. She hit all her marks, touching on her personal life, her policy, her passion and her pep. And at the risk of being melodramatic, there was one moment that did grab my attention. When she turned around and looked at the White House behind her, commenting on how either she or her opponent would live there, the White House engulfed her like a halo.
On Sunday, Trump stood in a shadowy, baleful darkness in the middle of Madison Square Garden. Gloom and doom. Radiance and righteousness.
When Harris finished her speech the crowd, estimated at 75,000, cheered wildly. They waved their small flags and placards with enthusiasm. Her lofty words, and the crowd’s swelling optimism, wiped away all the horror and negativity that swallowed the Ellipse on January 6, 2021.
And when she was finished, the crowd left the Ellipse peacefully, returning to their cars, their buses, their homes and their lives — with hope. You can draw your own contrast from here.
Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ and Allied community. Visit pride.com/submit to learn more about submission guidelines. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on any of our stories. Email us at voices@equalpride.com. Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists and editors, and do not directly represent the views of The Advocate or our parent company, equalpride.
