When President Joe Biden signed executive orders on voting and civil rights protections this week, he reaffirmed the national realization that the fight for fair, broad access to voting most likely saved American democracy in 2020.
Trump did what Democrats couldn’t do: He unified multicultural America against him.
But it also highlights the fact that former President Donald Trump did what Democrats couldn’t do: He unified multicultural America against him.
This argument unlocks a deeper exploration about how Biden won. It wasn’t one specific niche of voter alone that sent Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris to the White House. It was a multicultural, disproportionately young wave that had been building for years that toppled Trump.
In this election cycle alone, 16 million Latinos voted — a 30 percent increase from 2016. Exit polling showed that as many as 6 in 10 Latinos voted for Biden, 7 in 10 when we count just Latinx youth, helping deliver the narrow margins in Pennsylvania, Nevada and Arizona that propelled him to the White House.
In Georgia, with a Latino voter population of 4 percent, more Latinos voted early than had voted overall in both 2016 and 2018. The same was true for Asian Americans.
But before we get too swept up in this encouraging news, we need to look at the fact that the number of bills put forth that would potentially restrict voting rights is three times higher than a year ago. This signals a national, GOP-led push for election laws that hark back to white segregationists in the South passing Jim Crow laws in the late 19th century because they were scared of integration.
Earlier this month, Ronna McDaniel, chair of the Republican National Committee (RNC), blew the whistle, saying the committee is encouraging state legislatures to take up measures about poll workers’ access and to pass “meaningful voter ID laws.”
In my 16 years leading the voting advocacy organization Voto Latino and working to enfranchise American Latinx youth in a country where someone turns 18 every 30 seconds, I’ve always felt the urgency of now. As an immigrant to the U.S. from Colombia, I was raised under Gov. Pete Wilson, the originator of show-me-your-papers resolutions that pit neighbor against neighbor.
We fled a broken country where civil rights leaders, judges and journalists were routinely targeted for pointing out corruption or seeking equity. Thirty years later, Trump was doing the same in America.
The day after Trump was inaugurated, millions around the world joined hands under the Women’s March banner to repudiate his platform.
And then the masses galvanized against him. The day after Trump was inaugurated, millions around the world joined hands under the Women’s March banner to repudiate his platform. Women who normally shrank from running for office mobilized in droves; in 2016, Emily’s List had 600 women request to run for office. By mid-2017, over 16,000 had sent in requests.
The anti-Trump revolt crossed gender and race. It stoked the embers in women repelled by his misogyny and documented abuse, in Americans of all creeds chilled by his “Muslim ban,” in Black people bearing the brunt of continued police brutality, in Latinos threatened for simply being brown. Republicans like those in The Lincoln Project took a stand and fought for our nation.
What makes America unique from struggling democracies is that we believe that our Constitution is achievable. We believe in the aspiration to be just, to be equal, to fulfill the promise of equity regardless of creed, orientation, gender or color. Democracy was not imposed on us — it is innate to us.








