With All Due Respect

Defending America with Grit and Grace

By Nikki R. Haley

In the end, all the candidates honored our request not to comment—that is, until a former presidential nominee, Mitt Romney, reopened the wound with a statement a few days after the shooting. In a tweet, Governor Romney called the flag a “symbol of racial hatred” and called for its removal from the capitol in order to honor the Charleston victims. President Obama tweeted, “Good point, Mitt.”

I respected the moral sense that led both these men to make their positions clear. But they were making my job harder. That day I called Mitt and lit into him. I am trying to hold a state together, I said, and this isn’t helping. He had been a governor, he should know that.

Mitt said he felt compelled to speak out against the flag because he hadn’t been forceful enough in his 2012 run. I told him the situation was not about him. Less than a year earlier, riots had broken out on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri, following the shooting of a black teenager by police. Just months earlier, Baltimore had erupted in violence following the arrest of an African American, Freddie Gray, who died in police custody. There were groups on both sides of these incidents who were now threatening to bring their protests to South Carolina. I didn’t want my state to become another Ferguson. Mitt’s comments might have made him feel better, but they decreased the chances of South Carolina coming through this crisis in one piece.

Still, the statement had already had its effect. It forced each of the Republican candidates to put out statements of their own on the flag. Thankfully, they all made it clear that whether it remained on the statehouse grounds was an issue that should ultimately be decided by the people of South Carolina.

(Haley 2019, 38-39)

In many parts of society today, whether in popular culture, academia, the media, or politics, there is a tendency to falsely equate noise with results. Some people think that you have to be the loudest voice in the room to make a difference. That’s just not true. Often, the best thing we can do is turn down the volume.When the sound is quieter, you can actually hear what someone else is saying. And that can make a world of difference.

My speech was an appeal, not to pretend we didn’t have differences, but to avoid demonizing those we disagree with. Appealing to the worst in our fellow Americans was fueling an endless cycle of cheap political point scoring. It might make some people feel good, but it accomplished nothing constructive. And it was dangerous.

As if to prove my point, sensationalist pundit Ann Coulter tweeted after my speech, “Trump should deport Nikki Haley.”

(Haley 2019, 63-64)

The truth goes back to the Wee Miss Bamberg pageant when I was five years old. When you’re in a pageant that is based on selecting a white queen and a black queen, and you’re disqualified because you don’t fit either category, you learn early that labels matter. But I was lucky because my parents taught me that no matter how much people try to label you—and they will—you don’t have to live by those labels.

I’ve always thought being a woman made me special. I am proud of being a woman, but it doesn’t define me. I am a big fan of all women, whether in business, science, politics, or elsewhere. I love seeing them do well in every field. It inspires me. Women have challenges, but so do men. And I believe God has given us gifts to overcome these challenges. We have to manage more roles—mom, wife, daughter, professional person. But we are also great at balancing our lives and establishing priorities.

Labeling people based on race, gender, and other characteristics has gotten way out of hand in America today. It’s destructive and, ironically, it’s limiting. We are all much more than the sum of our labels.