The other day, I was at a party goods store with my kid, checking out the Halloween costumes he liked. We were torn between Chucky and the Joker. Walking down the aisle, I noticed something interesting—Kamala Harris and Donald Trump masks placed side by side. Just out of curiosity, I counted: there were five Kamala masks left and four Trump. The unsold inventory got me thinking; did it mean something? Are people buying masks to show support for the candidate, or to make fun of them? Of course, it’s hard to know for sure without knowing how many were stocked to begin with.
Fast forward to just a few days after Halloween, and the U.S. will be celebrating—or ‘boo’ing—the election results. Here in San Francisco, where 85-90% of voters consistently back Democrats, the buzz around Kamala Harris’s candidacy is palpable. With her hometown nearby and her splendid career rooted here, you can really feel the excitement building up.
Yet, there is another side to this. Trump supporters in urban California—where there’s a large immigration population—are a quiet minority, as they often feel the pressure to keep their political views to themselves to avoid judgment or being socially excluded.
Trump isn’t exactly popular around here—not just in San Francisco, but across the greater Bay Area, including Silicon Valley. Sure, Elon Musk might be on board with Trump, and some of the young techno-optimists who look up to Musk might be a bit confused about where they stand. However, most Bay Area voters are from the progressive left, center-left, and centrists.
So, while about half of Americans will vote for Trump, if you zoom in on San Francisco, the situation is quite different. In the 2020 election, only around 13% of voters here went for Trump, which still surprised some people, as it revealed that one in seven of their neighbors turned out to be a (silent) Trump supporter. This year, even fewer are expected to vote for him due to Kamala Harris’s local popularity.
Among many sentiments working against Trump here, in my view, a significant part is his inflammatory rhetoric toward ‘minorities,’ especially immigrants who are not white, Christian, or not yet naturalized Americans. I put ‘minorities’ in quotes because, in reality, they make up the majority here. Over a third of residents in the Bay Area were born outside of the U.S., and when it comes to racial demographics, Asians, Latin Americans, and African Americans together make up about 55% of the population.
Trump’s repeated attacks on immigrants—such as painting all Muslims as potential terrorists or calling Haiti and African nations “shithole countries” while saying we should get more people from places like Norway, or calling the coronavirus the “China virus” or the “Kung Flu”, encouraging xenophobia and the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes—spread racial bias and division. That kind of rhetoric does not go over well in a community that values diversity and inclusion.
Despite everything Trump says, do all Trump supporters fit the stereotype of conservative nationalists? The community here treats me like I’m one of them, and I’m very comfortable here and feel like I really belong. Do I need to feel uneasy sharing space with Trump voters because I’m not white and not Christian and don’t speak English like natives? Lately, I’ve become increasingly curious about why Trump supporters in my neighborhood choose him over Harris, and where they might be hiding out because I don’t know anyone personally within my immediate circle. So, I decided to talk to a few of them to listen to what they think and what their perspectives are in the midst of this largely Democratic community.
I first spoke with F, who works for a local organization that helps the homeless. One day over coffee, F introduced me to B, who’s an educator at an all-girls Catholic school. Both are Trump supporters, and mainly because they’re deeply concerned about life ethics. They feel that the Democrats’ stance, especially regarding abortion, has gone too far.
The controversy around abortion rights was never clear to me. My reasoning was simple: people should have choices—whether that’s carrying a pregnancy to term or opting for an abortion. The pro-choice stance lets everyone decide what’s best for their unique situation.
However, F and B offered me a different perspective. For them, the issue is not just about personal choices—it’s also about how these policies affect society as a whole. They brought up countries like Denmark, where prenatal screening for Down syndrome has become routine since 2004, and as a result, most pregnancies with this diagnosis end in abortion.
While the government says it wants to give parents informed choices, promoting prenatal testing though a taxpayer-funded healthcare system also hints at a desire to lower the number of congenital disorders, which often come with lifelong medical costs. F and B’s point is that this sends a subtle message: some lives are seen as more acceptable than others. Their example led to the realization that abortion rights can have wider social impacts and is thus more complex than being solely a matter of choice.
I also spoke with “C,” another Trump supporter, who grew up in a multi-ethnic Democratic family but who is now an Independent who leans more Center-Right. C used to vote for Democrats, including Hillary Clinton in 2016, but now they’re backing Trump, hoping that his economic plans will address the nationwide inflation. At Chipotle—C’s favorite fast-food stop—they’ve noticed how meal prices have shot up by 50% since before the pandemic, while wages have stayed almost the same. This makes living single in the city feel pretty unsustainable.
However, C’s distrust goes beyond just money. They’re also concerned about losing personal freedom and choice under a prolonged Democratic administration. In particular, they vividly recall how, in their opinion, the Democratic Party overstepped during the pandemic with quarantine measures, restricted business operations, and all the vaccination and mask mandates. They think that violating individual rights during a national emergency goes against our constitutional protections.
Our conversation then shifted to gun control, which always brings up a lot of emotions in the U.S. In 2023 alone, there were over 675 mass shootings, including the tragic school shooting in Nashville. Even here where I live in San Francisco, gun violence persists despite California’s strict “open carry” ban. A street party shooting that injured nine people occurred just a year ago. Besides that, minor’ shootings resulting from individual conflicts are becoming increasingly commonplace.
I argued that we don’t really need guns in a society with strong public safety measures. If you are worried about self-defense, there are many non-lethal alternatives such as martial arts or pepper spray. Think about its societal impact—gun violence is already becoming so deeply engraved in American culture that it risks being passed down to future generations, almost as if it were a part of our national DNA.
C disagreed, opposing government restrictions on gun ownership while supporting background checks. They emphasize that the right to own guns is protected by the Second Amendment of the United States Constitution and assert that law-abiding citizens have the right to self-defense. C argues that our focus should be on the real causes of violence—such as mental health issues, drug abuse, and poverty—rather than on gun control.
While I’m definitely for stricter gun regulations, I appreciate that C acknowledges the need for healthcare, welfare, and support systems for those who are struggling, even though some Republicans who advocate for smaller government often dismiss these initiatives as “socialism”. Both freedom and safety are essential components of a healthy society; therefore, perhaps the real debate should center on how to eliminate gun violence from our daily lives. By tackling its root causes, as C suggests, we can reduce the number of frustrated, angry people who might resort to gun violence, ultimately diminishing the perceived need for gun ownership.
Before we ended our conversation, I asked C how they felt about Trump’s stance on immigrants, given that C’s mother is an immigrant—a group, as mentioned, that Trump often targets in his rhetoric. C doesn’t fully agree with Trump’s attitude towards immigrants; they believe immigrants who follow the proper legal process to enter the United States should be welcomed, regardless of the origin. Yet, they still support his policies on tightening border security, particularly in response to the high cost of having an open border, citing the trafficking of illegal drugs such as fentanyl, cocaine, and methamphetamine as major concerns. C’s point is underscored by San Francisco’s ongoing fentanyl crisis—one of the worst in the country. It’s a hard reminder that the issue of border security goes far beyond undocumented immigration.
C was open to discussing politics with me, yet they feel that their views are usually not well received in conversations. Even within their family—especially with their father—there is a lack of enthusiasm to engage in political discussions. The same is true for their childhood friend, who introduced C to me.
F, too, expressed no shame in supporting Trump, though he is not their first-choice Republican candidate. However, they have been cautious about when to share their political opinions due to a fear of social ostracism. Only in certain areas of the city, such as Marina District, does a small community of Republicans and conservative-leading independents provide a sense of belonging.
I was only able to speak with a handful of Trump supporters, but none of them resembled the loud, die-hard Trump fanatics I see on TV and social media. No one had MAGA hats on, shouting about mass expulsions of immigrants and restoring the country to its former greatness. Instead, they were very thoughtful and shared with me several arguments I even agree with.
These conversations also made me realize that I have a habit of automatically taking anything Trump says as negative. Surrounded by a strong anti-Trump sentiment, it’s easy to go along with it and overlook other perspectives. However, this way of thinking is problematic because if we continue to act in this manner, each one of us contributes to the nation’s divide. Engaging with supporters of the opposing party doesn’t mean one has to agree with them, rather, it helps in understanding their views and even appreciating some aspects of their candidate’s positions. Being open minded and setting aside preconceptions enables fruitful dialogues, which are more important than ever, especially at a time when the country feels so divided, with half of the population supporting Harris, the other half backing Trump.
When we look at polls or watch rallies, everything seems polarized—like oil and water. However, when we engage in one-on-one conversations, the picture becomes much more nuanced. Although elections force us to choose one side, we are far more complex in reality. We might fully agree with certain ideas while questioning and even opposing others. Our views aren’t always fixed, but constantly evolve as we reflect on different perspectives, shifting fluidly between various viewpoints.
No matter who wins the election, it’s important to remember that the results aren’t simply ‘black’ or ‘white.’ The outcome is shaped by a collection of many ‘shades of gray’, leaning slightly darker or lighter depending on who comes out on top. Thinking of it this way can help keep emotions in check, and make the election seem less overwhelming. Our hope for a positive future shouldn’t depend entirely on who the next leader is.
Whoever you plan to vote for, make sure you cast your vote, and have a blast on Halloween! It’s the one day of the year when you can dress up as anyone you want. Whether you wear a Harris mask, a Trump mask, or even a hotdog costume, friendly strangers will smile at you. In the end, behind the masks it turns out we are not so scary.
Cover Image: Kamala Harris digitally edited as the Hamburglar, a nostalgic McDonald’s character. Source: Instagram.com, and ‘Trumpkin’ pumpkin carving entry at a contest. Photo by Haruna Kamei.
L’articolo People and Politics, Behind the Mask proviene da ytali..
4uMagazine
