Through My Lens: The Fight for Freedom and Change will Live On

As I stood on the far left of the stage, less than 100 feet from where the Vice President soon took the platform, my heart races with anticipation.

I held my camera in one hand and my phone in the other, determined not to miss a single, pivotal moment. Nearby, a rally staff member urged me to make room for the “real” press. 

I heard her, but my focus remained steady; I’ve earned my place here, arriving early to capture this historic event. The atmosphere is electric, with thousands of voices rising anticipating Beyoncé’s performance and Kamala Harris’s entrance. 

As I framed the vibrant crowd through my lens, I almost missed a profound realization: I was witnessing history.

This just wasn’t my first presidential rally—it’s also the first led by a Black woman as the Democratic nominee for the United States.

Kamala Harris’s candidacy is a significant milestone, a recognition long overdue. Few people realize this isn’t her first run; she previously campaigned but withdrew in December 2019, citing limited funds as one of the reasons.

 
Yet, like many resilient Black women before her, she refused to let that defeat define her. 
She persevered, triumphing to become the Democratic nominee in the 2024 election.

At that moment, the event’s gravity hit me, and my thoughts drifted to my grandmother, born in 1937, who once fought for the right to vote. 

For the early years of her life, she didn’t have that right—only securing it at 25. 

This rally is a full-circle moment that bridges generations of struggle and resilience, even though I wasn’t alive when that circle began.

Standing there, I realized I’m not just a spectator; I am part of a larger narrative, a story unfolding right before me. 

This moment isn’t only about Kamala Harris—it’s about all the women who fought to have their voices heard, paving the way for future generations.

Eager to share my experience, when I arrived home; I called my grandmother.

Before she could speak, I scream, “Mawmaw, you’ll never guess where I was today!”

Without waiting for her to ask, I said, “I covered the Kamala Harris rally for school, and she was less than a hundred feet away from me!”

As she expressed her excitement about my journalism journey, I interrupt her and asked, “How does it feel to see a Black woman so close to becoming the next President of the United States?”

A long silence fills the air, longer than I expected. My grandmother isn’t one to show much emotion, but in this moment, I hear her heart. 

I listen to the words she isn’t saying, and I mouth her first words with her she begins, knowing she is about to thank God for being alive to see this.

“I never thought I would live to witness this,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “And to see you, capturing it? My God is an awesome God.”

Chaplin Eva Smith

Her joy made my eyes swell.  What a day it has been—I am overwhelmed, exhausted, and filled with gratitude.

My grandmother is the reason I want to keep telling stories of marginalized communities. Her life, and her struggles growing up during the Great Depression and Jim Crow, inspire me to share her story and the stories of so many others. 

I am the next generation. I will grab the torch when my grandmother’s hands are too tired to hold it, fighting for the rights and freedoms of future generations as she did for me.

That journey began at the Kamala Harris rally. I did not just witness history—I became a part of it, fully immersed in a historic moment. 

I am more Determined than ever and I know I will never stop telling this story, and continuing to advocate for freedom, and change like the strong and resilient Black women before.