It’s taken 250 years for America to elect a Black woman as governor. This week, that barrier finally fell when Keisha Lance Bottoms won the election for Georgia’s governor.
Similarly, in New Mexico, Deb Haaland became the first Native American female governor in U.S. history, while in Michigan, early on Wednesday morning, Dr Abdul El-Sayed became the first Muslim to be elected to the U.S. Senate. And these are only a snapshot of the many firsts being celebrated across America right now.
These achievements are undoubtedly cause for celebration. They are milestones that deserve to be recognised and recorded in history. Yet there is something uncomfortable about celebrating them in 2026. One can’t help but ask: why have these barriers taken so long to break? And what does their breaking mean at a time when diversity and inclusion are increasingly treated as political liabilities?
For people who rarely see themselves reflected in positions of authority, the answers reach beyond election night.
Imagine growing up hearing politicians debate your community while rarely seeing someone from your community participate in the decision. Your race, your religion, your gender or your sexuality, all being hashed out by people who have the power to shape your life but little experience of living it.
Well, for many individuals, not only in America but across the globe, this is the reality. Representation in politics is sorely lacking. And while the midterm election results give many communities something to celebrate, these milestones have arrived amid an explicit federal campaign against diversity initiatives.
In January 2025, President Trump ordered the dismantling of federal diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programmes, characterising them as wasteful and discriminatory. The Presidential Action described the programmes as illegal and immoral infiltrations of the Federal Government. And while, yes, there are legitimate questions that can be raised about whether inclusivity programmes work, portraying diversity itself as evidence of declining standards risks reinforcing the very prejudices those programmes seek to address. It invites us to question the competence of people from under-represented backgrounds while leaving the advantages that have historically helped others reach positions of power unquestioned.
Particularly in the case of politics, candidates from under-represented backgrounds should be able to demonstrate their competence without their identity being treated as a qualification against them.
Now, I’m not saying that politicians are required to embody entire communities simply because they belong to one. There will be voters from Black communities in Georgia who disagree with Keisha Lance Bottoms, the same way that there will be voters from Muslim communities in Michigan who disagree with Dr Abdul El-Sayed. But greater representation creates room for those differences, allowing individuals to participate without being expected to speak for everyone who shares their identity.
I am also not claiming that these election results prove that voters endorse DEI programmes. There are a wealth of reasons that people vote for any one candidate. My argument is that these election results challenge restrictive assumptions about whom the public trusts to lead them.
The public have chosen people whose backgrounds have thus far been absent from these offices at a time when inclusion is so frequently presented as something institutions should retreat from. And there are several reasons why this is significant, not only in the U.S., but also here in the UK.
Firstly, governments decide which services receive funding, what discrimination protections exist and whose difficulties warrant action. Different lived experiences can help decision-makers recognise problems that have been or are being overlooked. For example, an inaccessible public service, an assumption about religious practice, or a barrier to healthcare.
Lived experience does not automatically produce good policy. It does, however, influence which questions get asked and what issues receive attention.
That is why these politicians must also face scrutiny. A historic election cannot substitute for affordable housing, accessible healthcare, or protection from discrimination. Constituents deserve to know what their representatives deliver.
The test is whether broader participation and representation helps institutions understand and serve the people affected by their decisions. An inclusive election photograph is only a beginning; its consequences and impact must be measured over time.
Secondly, however, for those of us in the UK, the U.S. midterm elections may seem distant from our own problems. After all, we have the entire Atlantic separating us. Yet America rarely stays in America. It travels through the platforms, employers, and institutions we encounter daily.
For example, in March 2025, Reuters reported that U.S. embassies instructed overseas suppliers and grant recipients to comply with the administration’s anti-DEI requirements or risk losing payments. These letters were sent to a wide range of firms, from utility suppliers to car manufacturers to education providers. If a firm was affiliated with the embassy in any way, the U.S. saw fit to pressure them into compliance.
Likewise, in April 2025, PoliticsHome reported that British universities receiving U.S. funding were being asked to confirm that their projects contained no DEI elements at a time when the UK higher education sector was already facing severe financial pressures. These examples demonstrate how America’s influence extends well beyond its borders, and its politics and governance should not be overlooked simply because they are an ocean away.
Finally, these victories also invite us to examine who holds power closer to home. Who represents our communities in Parliament and local government? Whose experiences shape decisions in our workplaces, schools and public services? And who still struggles to be heard?
Britain has its own inequalities to confront. Seeing barriers fall elsewhere should encourage us to question those we have grown accustomed to and whether the institutions making decisions about our lives reflect the people they serve.
Image credits: Simon Gagner on Pexels