Kendall Qualls, army veteran, business executive, and all-around straight shooter, recently announced he’s running for governor of Minnesota. Now here’s the twist: He’s black. That alone shouldn’t be headline news, but in a state such as Minnesota and a party such as the GOP, it kind of is.
When I talked to Qualls, he didn’t hold back. Minnesota, he says, has been on the decline for 20 years, and he points the finger squarely at Democrats. But not just any Democrats. “The uber-left Democrats — the socialist Democrats,” as he calls them, who think capitalism is a dirty word. “That’s one of the biggest issues,” he told me. “That’s why you’re seeing more and more black Americans coming to the point of Republicans.”
It’s not a fluke. For decades, black voters have leaned hard into the Democratic Party, understandably so, given the legacy of the Civil Rights Movement. But a shift is happening. A new crop of black political leaders is saying, “Thanks for the history, but let’s talk about now.” And now, they’re all about faith, family, education, and personal responsibility. Groupthink and government dependency? Hard pass.
Professor Tasha S. Philpot breaks it down in her book Conservative but Not Republican. She says black political identity has long been tied to “group consciousness.” Journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones calls it being “politically black,” which basically means sticking together based on shared identity, not necessarily shared beliefs.
Philpot puts it plainly: “When group consciousness is high, Blacks regardless of ideology will identify with the Democratic Party.” But when that group consciousness fades? “Democratic Party identification is most likely to weaken among Blacks with low levels of group consciousness.” Translation: The more you think for yourself, the more open you might be to the GOP.
Need proof? Look at Winsome Earle-Sears, Rep. John James (R-MI), and Rep. Byron Donalds (R-FL). Earle-Sears is a Jamaican immigrant, a Marine veteran, and Virginia’s lieutenant governor. James flew Apache helicopters before making it to Congress. Donalds went from a rough youth to a seat in the House. These folks didn’t wait for permission. They just got up and did the thing.
Earle-Sears once told the Assemblies of God that when she worked at the Salvation Army, “I had aspirations for some of the women they didn’t have for themselves. I couldn’t force them to accept available opportunities.” James credits his father’s grit under Jim Crow. Donalds believes in resilience over grievance. These are not “woe is me” narratives. These are “watch me work” stories.
And speaking of work, Kendall Qualls is doing plenty. He’s the founder of TakeCharge, an organization “supporting the notion that the promise of America works for everyone regardless of race or social station.” His message? Stop waiting on the government and start building your community. He and his wife, Sheila, run the Washington Academy, a school that’s all about faith, excellence, and moral clarity. If there’s a blueprint for black Republicanism, Qualls might be it.
When we talked, he said something that stuck with me: “I’ve been married for 40 years. My wife and I have five children. I tell people, we adopted one of them. I can’t remember which one because I love them all the same. We just lived our life based on the ethos of our faith. And that’s what the black community was before we had help from the government. It was rooted in faith, family, and education. Nothing special, just faith, family. And you know what? That formula works.”
There it is. No hand-wringing. No hashtags. Just values, and those values are his platform.
Now, if you think Qualls is just talking to black folks, think again. Minnesota’s education system is in shambles. “In 2019,” he told me, “the Minneapolis Federal Reserve published a paper that said that Minnesota had the largest academic achievement gap between black and white students in the nation.” And it hasn’t improved.
His solution? To “walk away from the Democratic Party.” Why? “We know [education is] a pathway out of poverty, and [Democrats are] shutting that door here in Minnesota.” And if you’re wondering what Qualls is for, it’s “economic prosperity, academic excellence, school choice, parental rights, and making our communities safe again.”
Then came the culture talk. Some folks get squeamish when you bring up culture, like it’s some kind of blame game. Qualls doesn’t play that. He says, “What I tell people is the culture that we have today is not black culture. It is failed Democratic policies that have corrupted the culture that was once prideful.”
He went deeper, saying that “what people need to understand is when you stand up for those things that are right culturally and for your family academically, politics is downstream from that. It’s downstream from culture.” To be clear, Qualls isn’t bashing black culture. He’s trying to bring it back to what made it strong in the first place.
And here’s what really sets him apart. He doesn’t lead with party. He leads with principle. “I don’t identify as a Republican. I identify as my faith first, father, husband first, all those things — and my politics is last on the list.”
Now that’s identity politics I can get behind.
At the end of the day, the rise of the black Republican isn’t about switching teams. It’s about flipping the script. It’s about grit over grievance, community over complaint, and agency over apathy.
Leaders such as Qualls, Earle-Sears, James, and Donalds aren’t just challenging assumptions about race and party. They’re expanding what it means to be black, politically and culturally. And frankly, it’s about time.
Erec Smith is a research fellow at the Cato Institute and an associate professor of rhetoric at York College of Pennsylvania. His primary work focuses on the rhetoric of anti-racist activism, theory, and pedagogy.
This article was originally published at www.washingtonexaminer.com
