Hi James,

I’m calling you by your first name because the last time we met—when I reminded you it was our third meeting—you told me that, at this point, we were basically friends after trying to convince me to ruin my diet at brunch.

That same day in Dallas, during a meeting with Black leaders, you told us that if we ever had concerns, we should bring them directly to you.

So that’s what I’m doing.

For the sake of time, I’ll be direct.

James, I don’t think you’re going to win this race.

During our meeting, I offered one piece of advice: as you work to broaden your coalition, don’t take the Black vote for granted. I acknowledged that today’s political climate is deeply divided and that building a winning coalition requires threading a very difficult needle. But I also warned that Black voters are not a constituency that simply falls in line. Respect has to be earned.

After watching your convention speech, I don’t believe you took that advice.

To be transparent, this concern didn’t begin with your speech.

It began when Keith Edwards attacked Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett. It grew when a caricature was made of a prominent and highly qualified Black woman. It continued as some of your online supporters repeatedly labeled me a “genocide-loving Paxton bot” simply because I offered measured criticism of your campaign—even after I privately raised many of these same concerns with members of your staff.

James, my family’s Texas roots trace back to enslavement.

As I listened to your speech, I couldn’t ignore what was missing.

You proudly referenced an ancestor who was eager to sign the Texas Declaration of Independence. Yet you never acknowledged that the Republic of Texas was founded in defense of slavery and that the declaration itself explicitly protected the institution of slavery.

That omission leaves me with two possible conclusions.

Either you were unaware of the historical significance of the document you celebrated, or you understood that history and chose not to acknowledge it.

Neither possibility inspires confidence.

If it was ignorance, then the listening and learning you’ve spoken about throughout your campaign has fallen short.

If it was intentional, it raises an even more troubling question.

Throughout this campaign, critics have challenged whether you’re “Texan enough.” Your response was to emphasize how deeply your family roots run in Texas.

But the particular roots you chose to celebrate run through the generation that helped establish Texas as a slaveholding republic.

Whether intended or not, that is not a politically neutral choice.

Should Black Texans simply overlook that history? Were we expected not to know it? Or were we expected to separate the celebration of those roots from the institution they helped preserve?

These are questions your campaign should be prepared to answer.

You shared what your ancestors were doing in 1829.

Because my own family history was shaped by slavery, forced displacement, violence, and generations of erased records, I cannot tell you with certainty what my ancestors were doing that same year.

But I know enough about history to understand the world they were living in.

Whenever I publicly criticize your campaign, I’m asked the same question:

“What do you want him to do?”

Here’s my answer.

First, publicly condemn the harassment directed at Black Texans by individuals claiming to support your campaign. Political disagreement should never become personal intimidation.

Second, openly acknowledge the role race has played in the 2026 Senate campaign and reject efforts to minimize or exploit racial divisions.

Finally, present a clear policy agenda specifically addressing issues affecting Black Texans—including voting rights, criminal justice reform, and economic opportunity. Don’t simply ask for Black votes. Show Black Texans what your administration intends to deliver.

Respectfully,

Dom

The Marathon Continues.