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As I write this, it has been confirmed that Donald J. Trump will be the 47th president of the United States. The Republican Party has captured the Senate. Waking up to this news on Wednesday was one of the most devastating experiences I’ve had in a long time. How did this happen? What led to this? Are we going to be okay? These are the questions I asked myself as I tried to make sense of it all. I want to take this time and this article to reflect on the 2024 election season and the deeper issues it has revealed.
Looking back, over 130 million Americans cast their votes. With Trump winning both the Electoral College and the popular vote, it’s hard not to question what brought us to this moment. Living in a liberal-leaning city and being surrounded by college students at a very left-leaning university, I was hopeful that Harris would win, even if the race was close. It wasn’t until more and more swing states began flipping red that I had to reckon with the real possibility of a Trump victory. This has been a hard reality to process, especially as an immigrant hoping to build a future here in the U.S. It’s a painful reminder of the unsettling experiences I had during Trump’s last term, leaving me feeling defeated and anxious. Yet, despite the pain, I believe this isn’t the end of hope for a better future. Even under a Trump presidency, there must be a way forward. In fact, small moments of unity have already begun to emerge, like when a group of people painted the fence with messages of hope and resilience. It was a beautiful reminder that even in dark times, our collective spirit endures.
The entire nation experienced a noticeable red shift, with increased Republican support even in traditionally Democratic strongholds like California, Massachusetts, and New York — states that hadn’t voted red in at least the past five presidential elections. On average, these liberal-leaning states saw a seven-percent increase in Republican votes compared to 2020. This shift wasn’t necessarily due to a surge in Trump supporters but rather a significant decrease in Democratic voter turnout. It’s a sobering trend that cannot be ignored and demands reflection.
So, what happened? Why are Democrats losing support? I believe the root cause lies in the party’s failure to connect with everyday Americans. The Democratic Party has struggled to address the concerns of working-class voters, often prioritizing policies that feel disconnected from the daily realities many face. For people trying to pay for gas, groceries, or housing, discussions about long-term climate policies or healthcare reform may seem too abstract. When livelihoods feel unstable or under threat, it becomes difficult to focus on broader issues that don’t have an immediate impact on daily life.
According to exit polls reported by CNN, data from 22,914 respondents reveals a striking trend: support for Trump was stronger among lower and middle-income voters, while Harris found more backing among higher-income groups. This underscores a troubling disconnect. Many working-class Americans feel that Democratic policies don’t sufficiently address their everyday struggles, especially as the cost of living continues to rise. If voters believe their financial stability isn’t being prioritized, it’s understandable why they might gravitate toward candidates who promise immediate economic relief.
The Democrats’ challenge lies in resonating with the working class. Without a clear, compelling message that addresses economic anxieties and everyday realities, the party risks losing a demographic that was once a crucial part of their base. This growing gap highlights the need for a strategic reassessment. I’m not endorsing Trump’s economic policies — far from it, as I believe they are dangerous and authoritarian. However, the Democrats must recognize that their messaging and outreach have fallen short, creating a sense of disillusionment among voters who once trusted them.
Additionally, it seems the Democrats put all their eggs in one basket, relying heavily on appealing to specific demographics and issues while neglecting to build a broader, more inclusive coalition. This lack of strategic outreach may have contributed to the disillusionment and disengagement among voters who once supported them. Harris’s campaign, for instance, leaned significantly on mobilizing women and young voters, with initiatives like Kamala HQ and focused conversations around reproductive rights. While these are good strategies, the heavy emphasis on them may have alienated other groups, such as working-class or middle-income voters, who felt overlooked.
The Democratic Party has also failed to build a well-rounded, three-dimensional brand image for Kamala Harris. As a result, many voters remain unsure of her policy positions. As a member of Gen Z, I think about what I know of Harris beyond the labels and memes like “Kamala is brat” or “coconut lady.” What specific policies of hers can I confidently name? The lack of clear and compelling messaging about her platform has likely contributed to voter apathy. I find it difficult to connect with Harris on her policy points because she often avoids commenting on them. Just a day before the election, when asked about her stance on Prop. 36, which is on the California ballot, she declined to give a clear answer. This reluctance leaves voters feeling disconnected and uncertain about her leadership. In contrast, Trump has had nearly a decade to define his political image (wow, we have endured a lot…), while Harris faced the challenge of doing so in a much shorter time frame.
Another noteworthy shift in this election was the Democratic Party’s reduced emphasis on identity politics. Historically, the party has leaned heavily on identity-driven messaging. When Hillary Clinton ran for president in 2016, she frequently invoked shared experiences to connect with voters, often starting her speeches with phrases like “as a woman.” Harris, who used identity politics as part of her strategy in 2020 — famously saying, “I’m speaking” during the vice-presidential debate, seemed to move away from this approach. It’s unclear whether this strategic shift helped or hindered voter engagement, but it was a noticeable change worth reflecting on. This isn’t a critique, just an observation.
When I say these things, it’s not to cast blame on the Democratic Party but to encourage deeper reflection on why Harris lost to Trump. It’s not as simple as “the country is full of fascists and bigots.” I think there is value in digging deeper into the “why.” People aren’t born bad, and our society hasn’t always been this divided. This election reveals how cultural and values-based divides have become more pronounced. People prioritize different issues based on their cultural, religious, or social beliefs. While some voters are deeply invested in matters like religious freedom, gun rights, or school policies, others focus on climate change and healthcare reform.
Economic anxieties have also played a significant role, fueling populist sentiments among those who feel left behind by globalization and technological change. This has driven a desire for economic nationalism and a deep skepticism toward political elites. Distrust in institutions and the media, exacerbated by misinformation and social media echo chambers, has only worsened the divide. The emphasis on identity politics, though important to many, has sometimes alienated voters who feel economic concerns should take precedence. Even though Harris has made efforts to emphasize her working-class background to build rapport with economically anxious audiences and contrast her with wealthier opponents like Trump, public perception seems to remain that the Democrat Party resonates more with the elite and wealthy, college-educated Americans. As the Democratic Party evolves, it must recognize that this sense of disconnect is driving voters away. Understanding these complex factors could shed light on the deeper societal changes that have influenced this election.
I am personally disappointed with the Democratic Party’s shift toward centrism. It feels like a retreat from bold, progressive policies that could address pressing issues. However, I can understand the reasoning behind this strategic shift. The need to appeal to a broad and diverse electorate, including moderate and swing voters, often forces the party to adopt more measured positions. This centrism is a calculated response to a polarized political landscape where winning elections may require compromises to secure support from a wide range of constituents. While I don’t agree with this approach, I recognize the difficult balancing act the party faces.
The Democratic Party’s centrist approach can have significant unintended consequences, particularly in alienating leftist voters who feel their priorities are being overlooked. For instance, some leftists have expressed dissatisfaction with how Vice President Harris has handled the Israel-Palestine conflict and frustration over the administration’s perceived inaction on critical humanitarian issues. This disillusionment stems from what they see as a lack of bold and decisive action. As a result, many leftist voters may choose to support third parties or abstain from voting entirely, weakening the Democratic Party’s support base and creating electoral challenges. Instead of blaming these voters for splitting the vote, the Democrats should reflect on why people are turning away and what can be done to earn back their trust.
As I reflect on the 2024 election, I’m left with grief, confusion, and a stubborn flicker of hope. This moment calls for deep introspection — not just for those of us who feel defeated but for the Democratic Party itself. The party needs to understand why so many Americans felt compelled to turn elsewhere or disengage entirely. Blaming voters won’t heal these divisions or bring about the change we so desperately need. Instead, we must acknowledge the growing disconnect between the party’s agenda and the everyday realities faced by working and middle-class Americans. We must also recognize the importance of building an inclusive, compassionate, and economically focused message that speaks to the struggles and hopes of a diverse nation. Despite the pain of this outcome, I still believe in the potential for a brighter future. It won’t come easily, but if we confront these challenges head-on and truly listen to each other, perhaps we can find a way forward together. Don’t mourn, organize.