“Not Just Bringing the Change but Being the Change”
“I remember crying my eyes out that night.”
A race she had prepared for and worked on the antecedent eight months, Tessa Howard was gut-wrenchingly crushed following Kentucky Attorney General Jack Conway’s widely margined and surprising 2015 gubernatorial loss. Though Kentucky has strictly voted Republican in the country’s last six presidential elections, has two Republican senators, and five of six Republican congressmen, only two of their governors since 1971 have been Republican.
Herself a Louisville native and lifelong Democrat, Tessa has grown increasingly baffled by her home state’s voting patterns since studying political science and communications at the University of Kentucky.
Though aware of the necessary invigoration the institution of voting needs, she primarily blames these inconsistencies on systemic intent.
“We don’t have the resources to get people out and voting, purposefully, that’s voter suppression. It’s a huge cycle.”
Contrary to popular perception, voter suppression is not a Jim Crow era exclusive encumbrance. Just since the last presidential election Iowa’s legislature has passed a bill approving the cut of the state’s amount of early-voting days, reduction in poll hours and restriction of absentee ballot receivals, while Georgia’s imposed new voter-ID requirements and ended the policy which automatically registers voters. Many argue that even the Electoral College itself is a precise facsimile of these insidious tactics; as Wyoming, a strong contender for whitest state and the country’s least populous, has 3.18 times the voting power of California, the country’s most diverse and populous state.
This happens as each state’s electors consist of its two senators plus its number of state representatives in the House. Because California’s electors represent 3.18 times the people of Wyoming’s, California’s voting power inherently dilutes while Wyoming’s emboldens. Without our emphasized importance of the Electoral College, neither George W. Bush nor Donald Trump would have won their presidencies, as they both lost the popular vote but won the former, two modern foredooms that have only occurred five times in the country’s history.
Conway’s local loss was nearly six years ago now, and since, Tessa has utilized her political passion to occupy two positions on Capitol Hill. Currently on what she characterizes as a “gap year,” as she’s headed to Syracuse University in August for her Master’s in Broadcast and Digital Journalism, Tessa first came to D.C. to intern under Iowan Representative Abby Finkenauer.
Not only was Finkenauer one of Iowa’s first ever female representatives, but the second youngest to ever be elected to the United States’ House. Tessa admired their shared “progressive” desires and blue political stance though both coming from historically red states. “I owe Abby a lot. She took a chance on me.”
Following Finkenauer’s recent November defeat to Republican challenger Ashley Hinson and a needed decompress, Tessa began as the Press and Communications Intern for U.S. Representative Ilhan Omar of Minnesota’s 5th congressional district, a position she’s held since January. From Zoom meetings with Omar herself to spreadsheeting formal media requests from CNN and Spike Lee to piecing together newsletters, Tessa’s new schedule is an abundant one, and she’s learning every day.
Since her 2016 win Congresswoman Omar has been a polarizing presence, as she’s the first Somali American and naturalized citizen elected to the United States Congress. National attention found her again in 2019 when then-President Donald Trump suggested her and fellow congresswomen of color; Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ayanna Pressley, and Rashida Tlaib — the four of them colloquially known as “The Squad,” to “go back” to the countries which they came from following a heated exchange with Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. The not only inaccurate (for three of the four representatives were born in the United States) but xenophobic remark echoed throughout Capitol Hill, as New Jersey Senator Cory Booker publicly related the comments to grade school mistreatment he and so many other people of color are experienced with.
Though a cheap target for spat slurs, consistent threats and bloviated hate, Omar’s occupied position undoubtedly elevates Black Muslim Americans, a refreshing truth that evidently shines throughout her cohort.
“What makes me so excited is that I’m surrounded by people who look like me,” Tessa glowingly noted while reflecting on her new space. “I think [Congresswoman Omar] gives a lot of power to not only Black women but Muslim Black women, East African Black women…”
As interns frequently take constituent phone calls, Tessa shared how her supervisor beforehand apprised her of the line’s consistent influx. This can sometimes be tricky to navigate, for only comments from residents of Omar’s district “count.”
“A lot of Somali Americans see Omar as their congresswoman,” Tessa painted for me. “It does not matter what district they’re from, does not matter what state they’re from, they see that representation and they see her supporting her community and supporting the beliefs and values that they have. [Representation] is a big part of the new, progressive age.”
Since girlhood Tessa has been aware of representation’s vitality; whether through her played with Black Barbies or Oprah Winfrey idolization, too shaping her congressional internship experience.
“I think when you’re around people who don’t look like you and who don’t understand you it’s a little bit difficult to bring your ideas out,” she described to me. “I’ve had that difficulty my entire life, especially when I was in college. I went to a predominately white college… I had to explain to someone that my dad could be shot and killed because he’s a Black man. They can understand it, but they don’t feel the hurt and pain. It gives you a better internship experience; being close with people who look like you, who think like you, and understand you.”
Tessa credits her dual interest in politics and journalism to the self-made multibillionaire, hoping to one day provide a similar figure.
“It’s amazing how I was so affected by [her] as a child,” she laughs. “I was literally six, seven years old sitting in front of a TV watching Oprah because she looked like me.”
“I want other girls, like me, [who] were looking at the TV, or maybe even listening on the radio, being like Yeah! She’s a strong African American woman, and she went for the job that she needed to go for.”
And this ideology bleeds into voting patterns. As NPR noted following 2020’s election cycle, many “diversity firsts” across the country took place; Delaware elected the country’s first openly transgender senator, New York voted in Congress’s first openly gay and Black representatives, while Oklahoma elected Mauree Turner; the country’s first nonbinary state legislator, and state’s first Muslim legislator. This of course is juxtaposed to Generation Z’s first-time voting allotment, a generation overwhelmingly characterized by diversity.
Tessa can’t help but think back to Kentucky’s; where openly hypocritical representatives like Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell are consistently reelected, though her experience canvassing exposes her to Kentuckian’s true feelings.
“I just don’t understand why people bitch about something and then they refer right back to it. You can’t claim that you hate your Republican senator and be like Yes, I’m gonna vote for them again. It’s the same thing with Kentucky. You cannot claim that you hate Mitch McConnell, but keep voting him in. You’ve been voting for him for 25 plus years now. I don’t understand. They’re pulling themselves back. Old ideas aren’t working anymore.”
Political regression is complex to dissect, though easily discernable as part of the game.
“When we recently lost in November with Abby, at times I felt like; Was my work even worth it? Was it good enough? Because obviously, it was not good enough to the 10,000 people who decided to vote the other way,” she reflected. “But then I realize, at the same time, [the United States of] America is a democracy. They voted who they voted for. You’re just gonna have to see what that person does for you for the next four years.”
This is evident as Conway’s victor, Republican Matt Bevin, lost his 2019 reelection; defeated by Democrat Andy Beshear, who replaced Conway as attorney general in 2015. And too, with the country’s recent party switch.
In addition to New York, I asked Tessa, What’s next?
“I’ve never been one of those people who look 10 years down the line.” She responded. “You never know what’s going to happen, the universe creates it.”
“Today, when I was on a call with [our] Chief of Staff, he told me [Omar] didn’t even know- she knew that she wanted to run for Congress, maybe ten years down the line, five years down the line, but when she ran for office, she literally decided that in one day. She didn’t know she was going to be a congresswoman the next year. I think we all have our timelines. You kind of just have to let things play out.”
Of course, though, her eyes are always on the prize, and options bountiful.
Whether becoming the first Black female White House Press Secretary, a position not yet held by a woman of color, or our generation’s Oprah Winfrey, Tessa Howard is one to watch.
She can be found on LinkedIn and Instagram @thetessahoward
