第1章
The Making of a Political Force: Kamala Harris's Extraordinary Journey
Kamala Harris is a woman of firsts. The first Black woman to serve as California's Attorney General, the first South Asian American to serve in the U.S. Senate, and the first woman of color to become Vice President of the United States. But behind these historic achievements lies a complex journey shaped by her multicultural upbringing, fierce determination, and strategic political instincts. Born in Oakland, California, in 1964-just two weeks before a pivotal election-Harris emerged from the perfect incubator for someone who would blend social progress with bare-knuckle politics. Her story captivated millions during the 2020 election, with Time magazine naming her one of the 100 most influential people in the world and Vogue featuring her on their cover (albeit controversially). What drives this intensely private woman who finds joy in cooking yet commands attention on the national stage? At her core, she remains her mother's daughter, guided by Shyamala Gopalan Harris's wisdom: "You may be the first to do many things, but make sure you are not the last."
第2章
The Daughter of Immigrants: A Multicultural Foundation
Standing just over five feet tall, Shyamala Gopalan was a force of nature who arrived in Berkeley from India in 1958 at age nineteen. This brilliant young woman pursued her Ph.D. and eventually gained recognition for groundbreaking breast cancer research, publishing over one hundred papers and raising nearly $5 million in grants. Raised in a household of political activism in India, Shyamala developed what Kamala would later describe as "a keen political consciousness" and "a sense of justice imprinted on her soul."
In 1962, Shyamala met Donald Jasper Harris, a Jamaican graduate student studying economics, at a gathering of Black students. They married in 1963, with Kamala born in 1964 and her sister Maya two years later. Their daughters' names derived from Indian mythology-Kamala meaning "lotus flower" and Maya referring to the divine power of illusion. As Shyamala explained, "A culture that worships goddesses produces strong women." Both parents were active in the civil rights movement, with baby Kamala reportedly demanding "Fee-dom!" from her stroller during protests.
The marriage didn't last. Shyamala and Donald separated in 1969 when Kamala was five and Maya three, divorcing in 1972. In her autobiography, Kamala suggests they were simply too young and emotionally immature for marriage to endure. Donald, who became the first Black economist tenured at Stanford, later lamented that a contentious custody battle limited his contact with his daughters. While he worked to teach them about economic contradictions in developing countries during visits to Jamaica, Kamala remained much closer to her mother, rarely mentioning her father in her autobiography and official biographies.
The Harris family's time in Berkeley and Oakland coincided with transformative political movements-the free speech movement, anti-Vietnam protests, environmentalism, and racial justice demands. The Black Panther Party emerged in Oakland in 1966, with Huey Newton and Bobby Seale leading armed Panthers into the California capitol to protest gun legislation. This politically charged environment shaped young Kamala's worldview, as did her mother's insistence on raising her daughters with both Black and Indian identities intact.
When Kamala was twelve, Shyamala moved the family to Montreal for a research position. Though initially "distressing" for young Kamala, she adapted, forming a dance troupe called "Midnight Magic" at Westmount High School. These formative years revealed her compassion when her friend Wanda Kagan moved in with the Harris family to escape abuse at home. The Harris family welcomed Kagan as family, sharing Indian meals together and ensuring she received counseling-an experience so profound that Kagan later named her daughter Maya.
第3章
The Berkeley Bus and California's Contradictions
Understanding Kamala Harris requires understanding California's contradictory politics and particularly its complex record on race-realities Harris would come to know intimately from birth. When she was born on October 20, 1964, California was experiencing political transformation. Two weeks later, President Lyndon Johnson won in a landslide over Barry Goldwater, while across San Francisco Bay, Willie Brown Jr., a thirty-year-old Black man who had escaped Jim Crow Texas, won a state assembly seat. Brown would become part of the "Burton-Brown machine" that dominated San Francisco politics for decades-power dynamics Harris would witness firsthand in her future career.
Yet on that same Election Day, California voters approved Proposition 14 by 65 percent, giving property owners "absolute discretion" to sell or not sell to whomever they chose-effectively legalizing housing discrimination. The measure sought to overturn the Rumford Fair Housing Act, authored by William Byron Rumford, the first Black legislator from the Bay Area who represented the district where the Harris family lived. Though Proposition 14 passed overwhelmingly, it was later struck down by both the California and U.S. Supreme Courts as unconstitutional.
In 1968, Berkeley superintendent Neil V. Sullivan implemented school integration in Berkeley. Buses transported Black children from the flats to schools in the hills and white children to schools in the flats, making Berkeley the largest American city to integrate its schools. While Kamala didn't ride those buses in 1968 or 1969 (attending Montessori school for kindergarten), in fall 1970 she did board a bus to Thousand Oaks Elementary for first grade-a school that had gone from 11 percent Black before desegregation to more than 40 percent after.
A half-century later, during the first Democratic presidential debate in June 2019, Harris confronted Joe Biden about his past work with segregationist senators who opposed school busing. With her carefully orchestrated line-"There was a little girl in California who was part of the second class to integrate her public schools and she was bused to school every day, and that little girl was me"-Harris positioned herself as the embodiment of multicultural America and a direct beneficiary of hard-won civil rights policies. Her campaign quickly capitalized on the moment with photos and merchandise, temporarily boosting her standing in the race. Though the moment worked only briefly, it demonstrated Harris's ability to cut through political noise with personal narrative-something that would become her signature approach.
第4章
Finding Her Voice: Howard University and Early Career
At Howard University in the mid-1980s, Harris found her place among other young, gifted Black students. With her friend Karen Gibbs, she shopped, shared care packages, attended different churches on Sundays, and cooked together. Harris interned for Senator Alan Cranston and participated in anti-apartheid protests. Howard's environment affirmed that students "could be anything" and shouldn't let obstacles impede their success.
While Harris was at Howard, California was taking significant action against South African apartheid. Assemblywoman Maxine Waters pushed legislation to force California's public employee pension fund to divest from companies doing business in South Africa. Assembly Speaker Willie Brown persuaded Republican Governor George Deukmejian to support divestment by drawing parallels between South Africa's treatment of Black citizens and the Armenian genocide that had affected Deukmejian's own family. When Nelson Mandela visited Oakland in 1990 after his release from prison, he praised California's leaders for their pressure through divestment.
After graduating from Howard, Harris attended UC Hastings College of Law starting in 1987, becoming president of the Black Law Students Association. Though she didn't graduate with honors or stand out academically, she was part of a class that produced many successful lawyers, including future U.S. Attorney McGregor Scott and Ambassador J. Christopher Stevens, who would later die in Benghazi.
When Harris began her career as a rookie prosecutor in Alameda County in 1990, she entered a world marked by violence and crime. Oakland's murder rate was setting records, reaching 165 killings in 1992. As a 25-year-old deputy district attorney, Harris handled misdemeanors and early procedural stages of felony cases, rotating through branch courthouses. She stood out among her peers with "a different confidence," according to Nancy O'Malley, then one of Harris's supervisors. Harris was energetic, focused, and eager to learn from experienced prosecutors, paying close attention during lunchtime strategy sessions in the law library.
In October 1992, Harris began working in juvenile court, where she confronted the harsh realities of Oakland's troubled school system-half its students scored below the 50th percentile on standardized tests, and truancy was widespread. Though juvenile cases are sealed, Harris often speaks of hearing stories of children being sexually abused and exploited, experiences that would shape her policy positions later in her career.
第5章
Political Connections and Career Advancement
In 1994, Harris's life changed when she became involved with California Assembly Speaker Willie Brown, thirty years her senior but sharing her traits of drive and intelligence. Their relationship became public when Herb Caen, the influential San Francisco Chronicle columnist and Brown's friend, mentioned Harris as Brown's "new steady" in a column about Brown's sixtieth birthday celebration at billionaire Ron Burkle's estate. During their relationship, Brown gave Harris a BMW, and she accompanied him to high-profile events including the Academy Awards.
As Brown faced term limits in 1994, he appointed Harris to state boards while she gained valuable political experience through his 1995 mayoral campaign. Their relationship ended shortly after Brown's victory, playing out publicly in Herb Caen's column. Though Brown helped open doors for Harris early in her career through mentorship and patronage, she moved on and stopped discussing him publicly.
In 1995, Harris returned to the Alameda County District Attorney's Office under Tom Orloff. She distinguished herself prosecuting felony cases, including violent crimes and using California's three-strikes law against repeat offenders. By 1998, seeking to advance her career and drawn to politics, Harris made a strategic move to San Francisco when Richard Iglehart offered her a position there.
Harris left Alameda County in early 1998 to work in San Francisco's Hall of Justice under District Attorney Terence Hallinan, a radical progressive with a pugilistic reputation. From her first day, Harris established herself as exceptionally hardworking, often coming to the office on weekends. She quickly rose to become chief of the career criminal division, maintaining a tough prosecutor's stance rather than favoring rehabilitation. When Hallinan passed over Harris for the second-in-command position, she decided to leave for the San Francisco City Attorney's Office, where Louise Renne hired her to lead the Family and Children's Services section.
第6章
Building a Political Foundation
In the late 1990s and early 2000s, Harris strategically positioned herself in San Francisco society while working as a prosecutor. Following Willie Brown's advice that Black politicians should "cross over into the white community" through cultural institutions, she became a trustee of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 1996, using this position to both network with influencers and create meaningful programs, including a mentoring initiative for Oakland high school students.
Harris quickly became a fixture in San Francisco's social scene, appearing at high-profile events like the Getty wedding in Napa Valley and fundraisers featuring celebrities like Elton John. Society columns regularly featured her attending galas, charity events, and police functions-the latter helping her build relationships with law enforcement as Terence Hallinan's relationship with police deteriorated. Though photographed at many events, Harris remained private about her personal life, deflecting speculation about relationships.
By 2000, speculation grew that Harris would run for office. She joined WomenCount, an organization promoting women voters, and became involved with Emerge California, which trained women candidates. When she decided to run in 2002, political organizer Andrea Dew Steele helped her compile contacts and connect with influential donors. A pivotal meeting with Mark Buell, arranged through Steele's connection to Democratic powerhouse Susie Tompkins Buell, transformed Harris from what Buell initially viewed as a "socialite with a law degree" into a candidate he enthusiastically supported as finance chair.
While Californians were distracted by the recall election that would eventually replace Governor Gray Davis with Arnold Schwarzenegger, Harris launched her campaign for San Francisco District Attorney in 2003. After telling her boss Louise Renne of her plans over lunch and receiving encouragement, the 38-year-old Harris positioned herself as "Today's Voice for Justice" against incumbent Terence Hallinan.
第7章
Testing Principles: The Death Penalty and Progressive Prosecution
Three months after taking office as San Francisco's district attorney, Kamala Harris faced her first major test of her campaign pledge to never seek the death penalty. On April 10, 2004, Officer Isaac Espinoza was killed in the Bayview district when a man with an AK-47 assault rifle shot him multiple times. Despite California law allowing capital punishment for cop killers and intense pressure from the police department, Harris announced before Espinoza's funeral that she would not seek the death penalty, staying true to her campaign promise.
This decision sparked outrage among law enforcement and political figures. At Espinoza's funeral, attended by thousands at St. Mary's Cathedral, Senator Dianne Feinstein publicly rebuked Harris, stating "This is not only the definition of tragedy, it's the special circumstance called for by the death penalty law." Many officers stood and applauded while Harris remained seated. For months afterward, officers would turn their backs on Harris when they saw her. Despite the pressure, Harris remained firm, writing in a Chronicle op-ed: "For those who want this defendant put to death, let me say simply that there can be no exception to principle."
As district attorney, Harris faced numerous challenges including a broken system where jurors were skeptical of authorities. When a crime lab technician was caught stealing cocaine from evidence, hundreds of cases had to be dismissed. Despite these obstacles, Harris focused on helping communities often ignored by law enforcement until violence erupted.
Harris rejected being labeled as either "tough" or "soft" on crime, instead calling her approach "smart on crime." In the dangerous Sunnydale housing projects, she implemented intervention programs, personally visiting at night with prosecutors, emergency room doctors, and police to show at-risk young men the consequences of gun violence. She also created the Back on Track program, diverting first-time nonviolent offenders into job training instead of jail, though this program faced criticism when an undocumented participant committed a serious crime.
Harris also tackled elementary school truancy, citing statistics showing most homicide victims and prison inmates were high school dropouts. She created a truancy court and later championed statewide legislation allowing parents of habitually truant children to be charged with crimes, facing fines or jail time. While controversial, especially among civil libertarians, Harris maintained: "I just want these kids to go to school, and I'm prepared to be the bad guy."
第8章
Taking on the Mortgage Crisis as Attorney General
When Harris took office as attorney general in January 2011, California was still deeply mired in the Great Recession. Unemployment in the Central Valley exceeded 16 percent, more than 10 percent of homeowners were seriously delinquent on their mortgages, and nearly a third owed more than their homes were worth. How she confronted this crisis in her first thirteen months defined much of her tenure, shaped her public image, and influenced her future career.
When she entered office, state attorneys general led by Iowa's Tom Miller were already negotiating with five major lenders. After attending her first National Association of Attorneys General meeting in March 2011, she concluded the investigation was incomplete and California's proposed share inadequate for the state hardest hit by foreclosures. Despite pressure from the Obama administration and even her brother-in-law Tony West at the Justice Department, she refused to be bullied.
She had allies, most notably Delaware Attorney General Beau Biden, with whom she spoke almost daily during this period-a relationship that would later influence Joe Biden's selection of her as his running mate. While Obama wanted a deal for his reelection campaign, Harris skipped meetings and instead visited Stockton, the epicenter of California's housing crisis, meeting with affected families. On February 9, 2012, she announced an $18.4 billion debt relief deal for California that preserved the state's ability to investigate banker crime.
After settling with the banks, Harris turned her attention to the legislature, championing the California Homeowner Bill of Rights. The legislation banned robo-signing, required clear foreclosure notices, and mandated a single point of contact for distressed homeowners. Senator Mark Leno carried the bill, which faced opposition from banking committee chairman Ron Calderon, who often sided with banks. Harris personally walked the capitol halls, meeting with legislators to push the bill through. Despite resistance, the legislation passed widely in the assembly and narrowly in the senate. Leno credited her involvement: "The whole game changed when Kamala got involved. The attorney general was not going to not get her way."
第9章
From Attorney General to Senator: The Rise Continues
Kamala Harris faced no serious opposition in her 2014 re-election campaign for California Attorney General. Her Republican opponent Ronald Gold built his campaign around marijuana legalization and spent less than $130,000. Harris remained strategically noncommittal on politically divisive issues like gambling regulation and teacher tenure, understanding that taking unnecessary positions risked alienating potential supporters. Despite winning re-election with 57.5% of the vote, she carried only twenty-six of California's fifty-eight counties, suggesting she hadn't fully connected with Republican areas and Southern California suburbs.
Just ten days after beginning her second term as California attorney general, Harris was ready to announce her next career move when Senator Barbara Boxer announced she wouldn't seek reelection in 2016. Harris quickly met with her campaign team - Ace Smith, Sean Clegg, and Dan Newman - to plan her Senate run.
Harris made combating human trafficking a priority as California Attorney General, particularly targeting online exploitation. In 2012, she identified Backpage.com as an "unscrupulous website" enabling sex trafficking, describing it as "a modern form of slavery" involving "controlling a person through force, fraud, or coercion." Her office's investigation contributed to a 93-count federal indictment and the site's shutdown, ultimately leading to legislation clarifying that the Communications Decency Act doesn't shield websites that exploit children.
On election night 2016, as Donald Trump's victory became apparent, Harris abandoned her prepared speech. At Exchange LA, she delivered a defiant address repeating the word "fight" twenty-six times in eight minutes. "Do we retreat or do we fight? I say we fight," she declared, pledging to defend immigrants, Black Lives Matter, reproductive rights, climate science, civil rights, and gun safety. Harris won decisively with 61.6% of the vote, carrying all but four California counties.
第10章
The Resistance: Harris in the Senate
Harris quickly established herself as a formidable questioner in Senate hearings, particularly on issues vital to California. In Homeland Security Secretary John Kelly's confirmation hearing, she focused on DACA protections for Dreamers-a critical issue for California's 183,000 DACA recipients. She also distinguished herself in Intelligence Committee hearings on Russian election interference, questioning intelligence officials about protecting Trump's transition team from cyber threats and pressing CIA nominee Mike Pompeo on climate change and protections for LGBTQ and Muslim employees.
Harris prepared meticulously for hearings, assembling diverse staff including Nathan Barankin, Rohini Kosoglu, Clint Odom, Tyrone Gayle, and Lily Adams. While building bipartisan relationships with senators like Rand Paul and John McCain, she simultaneously emerged as a leading voice in the Democratic resistance to Trump, leveraging social media to build a national following focused on Trump's policies affecting immigrants, working families, and people of color.
On January 29, 2017, Senator Harris joined protesters outside the White House denouncing Trump's Muslim travel ban. When she called Homeland Security Secretary John Kelly at home to discuss constituent concerns, he rudely rebuffed her. During Kelly's June 6 appearance before the Homeland Security Committee, Harris grilled him on threats to cut federal anti-terrorism funds from cities not enforcing immigration detention orders. The next day, she similarly pressed Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein about granting Special Counsel Robert Mueller complete independence, demanding yes-or-no answers while Rosenstein attempted longer explanations. When committee chairman Richard Burr cut her off, the exchange went viral as Democrats portrayed it as old White male senators having "shushed" the only Black woman on the committee.
Harris had effectively adapted to Trump's reality-show presidency by becoming a compelling character herself, using viral moments and sound bites to rise above Washington's din. Unlike many senators who maintained an imperious attitude toward staff, Harris was notably personable and approachable with Senate staffers. She formed a special bond with Senator Ron Wyden, the two often seen walking together despite their height difference. Wyden praised Harris as someone who "comes to play every day"-prepared, focused and effective.
第11章
The Presidential Campaign and Beyond
In late July 2018, Harris gathered her closest advisers and family at Maya Harris's Manhattan apartment to discuss the "Thing"-whether she should run for president. Her team emphasized she would run to win, not for second place, and defeating Trump was the existential priority. Despite being criticized as overly cautious, Harris decided to jump in completely. Her strategy relied on performing well in Iowa and New Hampshire, better in Nevada, winning South Carolina, and securing delegate-rich California.
After releasing her autobiography "The Truths We Hold," she officially announced her candidacy on January 21, 2019, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Her kickoff rally in Oakland drew twenty thousand people, where she emphasized her campaign theme: "For the people."
However, Harris's campaign struggled with fundamental questions about her principles as she backtracked on previous positions. By early November, the campaign was running out of money, forcing campaign manager Juan Rodriguez to impose layoffs. The New York Times published a devastating analysis of Harris's "unraveled" campaign, highlighting internal conflicts between Maya Harris and strategists, flat messaging, and excessive drama.
Harris faced multiple structural challenges: she failed to break Biden's strong support among Black voters in crucial southern states, couldn't raise sufficient funds compared to competitors like Pete Buttigieg, and struggled with small-dollar donors. In a last-ditch effort, wealthy supporters created a super PAC called People Standing Strong, with Oakland liberal M. Quinn Delaney contributing $1 million. However, just hours after news broke about the ad reservation, Harris ended her campaign on December 3, 2019.
After Biden selected Harris as his running mate, she reached out to her high school friend Wanda Kagan, asking permission to share Kagan's story of abuse and how Harris had helped her. In a campaign video, Harris explained that her friend's experience was one reason she became a prosecutor. Kagan reflected that "The U.S. is getting the best of the person, like that's who she is. That's who she always was."
At an October 19 campaign rally in Jacksonville, Florida, Harris danced in the rain to Mary J. Blige's "Work That" while holding an umbrella, smiling and laughing. Though conservative columnist Peggy Noonan criticized this as "embarrassing" and "frivolous," a fifteen-second clip of Harris dancing garnered 2.3 million views online.
Harris demonstrated her empathy when, on the second anniversary of Tyrone Gayle's death, she texted his widow Beth Foster Gayle to share that someone at the Jacksonville rally had held a sign reading "DO IT FOR TYRONE." This personal gesture revealed a side of Harris few people saw-her capacity for empathy amid a demanding campaign. Though Harris could be tough on staff and had left people feeling used as she rapidly advanced her career, she also took time to show she cared for those experiencing pain-a defining characteristic of "Kamala's Way."
