Dysfunction and Profanity at Kamala Harris’s First Michigan Rally

The Harris-Walz rally at the Detroit Metro Airport was a logistical disaster, but it did showcase the newest girl-boss identity of the Democratic Party. The new populist angle promises good times for everyone. But through the rhetoric of the rally, major weaknesses were revealed, and they can be exploited.

Despite registering for the event two days before, details never arrived. On the day of the event, nothing specific was available from any of the local Detroit newspapers either. Once at the airport, there were no signs or chaperones to direct toward the rally. I chose airport parking lots at random and found an inconspicuous Harris for President tent with volunteers running around in a frenzy. It was 5 p.m., and Vice President Kamala Harris would be taking the stage in two hours.

A very nice woman named Linda said she had been patiently waiting since 1 p.m. She said she had first been directed to the departures terminal, then the arrivals, before coming to this location. Linda claimed that many people had shown up at the check-in counter looking for Harris. They were still searching with no one to help them.

But even here, at the right place, none of the volunteers seemed to understand the basic information on how to get to the airplane hangar where the rally was being held. Linda asked why this was all so confusing. She had come from far away to show support for the party, and in return, they had made things very difficult. A volunteer assured us that the event was made deliberately obscure for security reasons. Either this explanation was untrue, and the reason was total incompetence; or it was true, and completely stupid.

We waited for 30 minutes, and then the volunteers had some bad news. No more shuttle buses were coming. The venue was at capacity, with an estimated 15,000 people. But then a yellow school bus arrived, and the volunteers celebrated as though witnessing a miracle. We were the last to join the rally. What was odd about the mismanagement for public attendees was that, outside the hangar, the roads were lined with coach buses. They were not from the airport. People had been bused in from elsewhere. The event was likely organized internally.

Once through security, I saw a black youth choral group singing about emancipation. The hangar was full, though the crowd seemed much smaller than 15,000 people. I have a suspicion that, maybe, this many people registered for the event and only half showed up. The first speaker upon my arrival was Lt. Gov. Garlin Gilchrist. He took the stage and started shouting banalities, with the enthusiasm of proselytizing divine truths. He yelled about a future free of poverty, free of pollution, and free of limitations. He celebrated love and compassion. Then he told the crowd, “You don’t know how small Trump’s brain is,” while pinching the air to gesture something small.

His speech was followed by ghetto rap music.

The next notable speaker was United Auto Workers President Shawn Fain.

He continued with the same forceful and angry tone. It’s not what he said that mattered, it’s how he said it. Fain started his speech by affecting a working-class, no-nonsense attitude. He screamed phrases like “Go big or go home” and called Harris a “badass woman.” His liberal use of profanities that revealed something interesting in the Democratic strategy. The harder he cursed, the more the crowd cheered; when Fain screamed, “I’m fucking angry,” there was a deafening uproar of support.

The careful deployment of naughty words to signal irreverence and passion was used throughout the evening. Gov. Gretchen Whitmer had the honor of introducing Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, Harris’s running mate. Her entire speech was the girl-boss preview to Kamala’s bad-b**** feature presentation. Gretchen came in with high-energy, stating that she “woke up in Big Gretch mode this morning.” Her index finger seemed to dictate every gesture: finger wagging in disapproval, finger snapping for emphasis, finger pointing at everything. Her description of Walz was a salt-of-the-earth fiction: “We all know the type of guy… a dad, a coach, the guy who makes bad jokes, who always has jumper cables in the car.” Her wholesome curation, however, was concluded by announcing Walz as the only guy that curses more than herself, and that he “gets shit done,” a phrase she repeated. More excitement.

Waltz carried the energy faithfully. Instead of leaning into his progressive reputation, he portrayed himself as the fed-up centrist who’s just sick-and-tired of Trump and his foolish shenanigans. When he talked about abortion or queer propaganda in schools, Walz told conservatives to “mind your own damn business” and deferred to freedom. He also used his trademark “weird” snub several times when referring to anything MAGA.