Dear Black MAGA Supporters, What the Fuck?

Doctors afraid of blood, pilots afraid of flying, and Black MAGA supporters—rare but not impossible. One Black man’s journey into the shock and awe of why Black MAGA supporters hit differently.

BY: KHALIL ADEN

Art by Daniel Gomes // THE UNDERGROUND

Like most modern adventures, this one began with a deep YouTube dive. Past the countless conspiracy theories, weird Russian videos, and the side of existential guilt served with an oblivious-to-time mindset, I came across an unexpected video: a video of Mysonne—a former rapper now activist—arguing with KingFace, a community leader and Instagram personality. 

What was unexpected was the nature of their argument—that Black folks had the same opportunities as white folks. KingFace, a proponent of this stance, was wearing a bright blue MAGA hat and argued that the “outcome of [your] life is solely dependent on [your] decision-making.” What confused me the most was not the nature of his argument; the notion that one’s life is in their own hands, and that systematic racism has little hindrance to Black folks is a common conservative argument. Rather, what confused me the most was the MAGA hat. 

Initially I squinted my eyes, not only because it wasn’t the traditional red “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) hat, but because I was also genuinely confused at the situation. A Black American wearing a MAGA hat, arguing against systemic racism, preaching that the “white-man” had no influence on a Black man’s life was like a doctor afraid of blood, or a pilot afraid of flying—it was ironic, almost comedic, and a paradox to me. 

Look, being Black doesn’t and shouldn’t limit your voting choices, but being Black does often mean you’re predispositioned to voting Democratic. This is often due to the stance that Republicans and the Republican Party have on social programs, welfare, and affirmative action laws. The spiel about the Republican Party being the party of Lincoln is utter nonsense—the modern Republican Party is not the leftist party of Lincoln’s day. Case in point: the many state and federal laws that Republicans have repealed that primarily benefit Black Americans, like the Racial Justice Act (a law prohibiting the seeking or imposition of the death penalty on the basis of race). 

This is why I found KingFace’s MAGA hat and conservative stance shocking. On paper, his argument may sound reasonable. Ultimately, we all make our own decisions, and the outcomes should be our responsibility to bear; but when you look at the institutions within our North American society, including the healthcare system, the justice system, and our financial system, racial inequalities that marginalize Black people are evident and systematic. The hard truth is that Black folks, like myself, have the hard end of the stick—some things are not in our control and our choices, and their outcomes, can be manipulated. It’s easy to blame Black men for not being financially literate, but financial literacy is not uniformly taught or passed down; it’s a form of knowledge bred in privilege. 

I spent longer than I care to admit watching the video, and I wondered how KingFace came to this conclusion. Why would someone support an ideology that is detrimental to themselves? I’m not even going to attempt to argue that Donald Trump is a racist. Stemming long before his Presidency, Trump has made racist, prejudiced, and misogynistic statements and comments. Once or twice can be written off as a misunderstanding, but when it’s continuous throughout his Presidency, and throughout his life, it’s hard to deny his actions.

KingFace as a Black American supporting Donald Trump is akin to supporting an ideology and President that inherently oppose oneself. By supporting Donald Trump and preaching the same-old conservative talking points, KingFace is seemingly advocating for Black Americans to support a President and Republican Party that have made their lives worse, not better. 

I reached out to KingFace and spoke to an associate who gave me a statement regarding the criticism that he receives for his MAGA support. 

“As a former gang member, with tattoos on my arms and face, people don’t expect me to support the first Black President...Donald J. Trump.”

KingFace expressed that his goal wasn’t to change my political views, or those of any readers, but that his statement was based “on the truth”. A ‘truth’ he says that is supported by his alleged multiple visits to the White House. He further listed a handful of statistics that he claims represent how Black and Brown lives have benefited under Trump’s Presidency. The majority of these statistics and facts derived from three policies: the First Step Act, Opportunities Zones, and The Future Act. 

Art by Daniel Gomes // THE UNDERGROUND

He concluded his statement with another powerful remark: “the truth is, if Donald Trump is a racist, he’s doing a terrible job at it.”

I’ll admit, as a Canadian I’m not well-versed with American policy. Most of what we consume regarding American politics comes from media and news sources—and they often gloss over the policy aspects of the debate. So I did some digging into each. 

The First Step Act helps those in prison who have committed nonviolent crimes achieve an early release. It’s worth mentioning that this isn’t the first time we are seeing acts like this, as similar acts have been issued at state levels with the decriminalization of drugs. The Opportunity Zones element of Trump’s tax bill is an attempt to entice investors to cash-inject poor neighbourhoods. It’s supposed to lead to the development of sustainable housing and American jobs. Instead it became a windfall for the rich. And the last Act that KingFace mentioned, The Future Act, was a bill that gave $250 million in annual STEM funding to minority-serving colleges. 

My goal here isn’t to argue that these acts or laws don’t help Black Americans or minorities in some fashion. It’s perfectly understandable as to why someone would believe that Donald Trump being a racist is merely a facade based on these policies. But being President is about more than just signing bills into law. In a society where Black men are being shot in broad daylight, and the police drag Black men across town by way of noose and horse, being President is about setting a line, a standard that these actions are not okay—not about sympathizing with white supremacists. 

Under the First Step Act, prisoners—who are predominately Black and Hispanic—are released back into a society where they face the same systematic issues that led to their incarceration. In order to truly help Black Americans and other targeted minorities, the institutions and systems that target them need to be reformed. This is where KingFace and I disagree. For me, this isn’t about decision-making; when your decision matrix is limited by racial factors you’re forced into making decisions that do not benefit you, and cause harm to yourself. 

KingFace’s support for Donald Trump and these conservative notions may be rare, but it's certainly not unique, and it seems to be a form of internalized oppression. I would argue that this decision, which is a form of internalized oppression, is part of that limited decision matrix.

Oppression comes from the idea of one group exerting their power over another and causing harm. Oppression can occur through many forms, whether it’s through violence or cultural imperialism. Internalized oppression stems from the psychological effects of regular oppression. When someone has been oppressed by the dominating group for so long, they tend to believe that the group has done no harm and instead place the blame on themselves. Your self-image begins to shift into the image of the oppressor.

Victims of internalized oppression begin to assimilate into the culture of the oppressors, as they believe that they are now changing into the right image. A great example of this would be looking at the 2016 US election. Donald Trump’s supporters, specifically the poor white demographic, voted for him in astounding numbers. It was reported that 67% of non-college whites backed Trump, compared to just 28% who supported Clinton. This is the largest disparity in support among college graduates and non-college graduates in the US voting polls since 1980. 

Art by Daniel Gomes // THE UNDERGROUND

The poor, uneducated, working-class whites voted for someone who was the embodiment of classism. Someone who inherited their father's fortune at the age of 3 and continuously through the rest of their lifetime at an estimate of 450 million dollars. He also attended Fordham University, ranked 74 out of the 369 universities in the US. Trump has had access to funds as well as great education. He has no way of sympathizing with the working class, he doesn't know their struggles, and he blames Mexicans and immigrants to escape answering hard questions about why working class jobs have shifted abroad. His privilege helped him dodge the draft by claiming that he had bone spurs and was unable to join the Vietnam war. Trump has had wealth, great education, and privilege at his fingertips since birth. 

Ultimately the power of Trump’s movement in 2016 was to build a connection between him and voters, one that preached an understanding of the working man's plight and experience in America. A narrative far from the truth. It wasn’t just working class white Americans who fell for Trump's false narrative, but also prominent figures in the Black community such as Kanye West. 

It’s important to note that West has spoken against systemic racism in the US in the past. Most notably during the media's coverage of Black folks during Hurricane Katrina being depicted as looters while their white counterparts were given the benefit of the doubt in that situation. As well, many of West’s songs feature lyrics that highlight the oppression and racism that Black folks, and in particular Black men, in America face.

Which is why it was such a shock when Kanye publicly pledged his support for Trump, claiming that his support was based on the approach of Trump rather than his actual policies. Months later Kanye seemingly rescinded his support for Trump on Twitter, stating that he was being used for a political movement that he doesn't agree with.  

Kanye’s support for Trump is in line with internalized oppression; and West’s massive rise in wealth and his connection to the fashion industry seems to be a related factor. It makes sense: the systemic issues that Kanye had once preached against are no longer in his peripheral. With wealth comes the privilege of having the luxury of ignoring the barriers that once affected you; and with that there is less motivation to speak against the institutional and systemic barriers that once plagued you. 

After speaking to KingFace and looking back at Kanye’s Statements, the realization that there's Black Americans who have these opinions became a reality for me—suddenly Black MAGA supporters seemed less like a comedic element in some poorly rated Hollywood movie. It’s certainly ‘okay’ to disagree with others; a difference in opinions allows us to engage in healthy dialogue and debate, and in some cases, like KingFace’s, allows for personal development and growth. So by all means, disagree. 

But the problem with the mindset of KingFace and Kanye—that Black Americans owe their troubles and lack of success to their own decisions—is an opinion that invalidates the experiences of many Black Americans, past and present.

Internalized oppression causes people to treat systemic racism and institutionalized racism as irrelevant to their lives, and the lives of Black Americans. For Canadians, internalized oppression isn’t an “American-made” product—the same can occur in our lives and our societies. Marginalized folks need to stand guard against internalized oppression; we need to ensure that we avoid not only invalidating our own experiences by reducing them to bad decisions, but also invalidating the experiences of other marginalized folks.