Eugene Daniels moves through the world with his mother’s voice echoing in his mind. You belong in every single room you find yourself in, she would tell him.
Politico’s White House correspondent has carried her voice with him through the walls of the White House, on Air Force One, and on the campaign trail with Vice President Kamala Harris.
Since Daniels began writing about her, starting when she won her Senate race in 2016, he’s become one of the consistent expert voices on Harris.
His voice is a breezy and familiar bellow on Politico’s podcast “The Playbook Deep Dive.” He was one of three Black journalists who interviewed Harris on Sept. 17 in Philadelphia. He was sworn in as president of the White House Correspondents’ Association over the summer.
By many measures, Eugene Daniels is the expert in all things Kamala Harris. He’s also a self-proclaimed “walking Beyoncé encyclopedia” with a fashion sense that mirrors his bold style of reporting, speaking and showing up in the world.
Vice President Kamala Harris and Eugene Daniels, WHCA treasurer and White House reporter for Politico, pose for photos during the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner. (AP Photo/Carolyn Kaster)
It’s a long way from his days writing for student media and hosting radio shows, with dreams of being on-camera.
He sees himself as extending a legacy that began long before him and will continue long after.
Poynter spoke with Daniels about what he’s learned covering Kamala Harris, what he would tell the next generation of political reporters, and what it means to bring yourself into every room you enter. This conversation has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity.
TyLisa C. Johnson: Take us back. What are your journalism roots?
Eugene Daniels: I was in college at Colorado State University, and I was on track to do what I had told everyone I was going to do my entire life, which was be a lawyer and then a politician. [laughs] And I was in a class and realized, like, wait, I don’t want to do this.
There’s so much sometimes, good people can get twisted up in politics and change the way they operate, and start doing things that don’t seem that great. I realized that I didn’t want to have to deal with that. So I went to a professor, Pam Jackson, and I’d taken one journalism course. I went to her and I said, “Oh my God. What am I going to do? I can’t do this. This plan I’ve had my entire life is out the window.” And she said, “Maybe you don’t want to be a powerful person. Maybe you want to hold powerful people accountable.” And it just clicked for me.
I dove headfirst into everything student media and changed my major, and I did the CTV, which was our college TV station. I wrote for the college newspaper. I wrote for College Avenue, which was our magazine. I had a late-night talk show called “Daniels After Dark,” which was part “Chelsea Lately,” part Oprah, part like, “60 Minutes.”
Johnson: Yes, Daniels After Dark! We need a revival.
Daniels: [Laughs] No, I’m very glad that that cannot be found. And I had a radio show. I just leaned so deeply into this idea that at the base and the foundation of all of this is storytelling. The rest of it — where you put it, how you package it — you can figure out, sometimes, on the back end, which has really served me in my current role.
Johnson: I love that it’s serving you in your current role, because all those foundational blocks really do come full circle. What are the defining moments for you that you feel brought you to this moment where you’re covering the vice president, who could potentially become the next president of the United States? That moment you describe, where your professor is essentially like your purpose could be holding these people accountable, seems like a really defining moment. I’m curious if there are other moments that come to mind?
Daniels: It’s like a core memory, if you’ve watched “Inside Out.” So that one is one.
My first job was in local TV in Colorado Springs, and I was this multimedia journalist and I wanted to be a reporter full time on camera. I jumped through all the hoops that everybody does when they’re making that transition. I worked with the voice coach. My editing and stuff was great because I was already shooting things. I worked with the writing folks.
And when I went to the final test, the final boss of it, the general manager, he told me that my voice was too Black to be a full-time reporter in Colorado Springs.
And so that would be a defining moment, because from there I changed tracks. I had gone from thinking I was going to be in local TV for much of my life as a journalist, to shifting to a digital news outlet called Newsy, and moving to Columbia, Missouri, a college town, at 20-something years old.
That moment, the “your voice is too Black” moment, taught me, one: Racism is alive and well. It was 2014 maybe, so it was a completely different world in which you didn’t say much. You kind of took it and moved on, which is what I did. I left very confused and hurt. What I took from that is a lot of people are going to have a lot to say, and you don’t always have to listen.
I went to Newsy, and it was all on camera. This is another defining moment. I was doing anchor practice with the head of news at the time. I was doing a Tom Brokaw voice, because I thought that’s what you did when you’re in front of a camera. And she looked at me, her name was Christina Hartman, and she said, “What are you doing?” And I said, “I’m anchoring.” She was like, “I hired you for you, so I want you to sound like yourself. I don’t know who this person is.” And so another kind of defining moment of just wrapping yourself in who you are.
Then I came to D.C., as a part of Newsy, and I was poached by the head of video at the time here at Politico. We were doing this partnership between Newsy and Politico, and she was like, “Do you want to work here?” And I was like, “Damn right.” And so I came over to the video team, and it was during the run-up to the 2020 election.
They wanted the video team to do more original content and focus on being reporters and doing it in a different way. I went to the editor at the time. I was like, “Hey, you guys want me to do this, but I’m not on the politics team. I’m not in the meeting.” And she was like, well, that’s silly. So they put me on the politics team, and I started going to the meetings. And I was doing this kind of dual role eventually, because Andrew Yang, who was doing relatively well, especially compared to his experience level and politics, no one was covering it. We didn’t have anyone covering him.
And so I went to them and I said, “Hey, look, I think I can write. I write these scripts. I went to college for writing and journalism, and I just know that I can do this. If you think I’m bad, you just moved me back over to the video team, I’ll shut up, and I’ll never ask again.” And they let me.
It ended up kind of working out, and they also got double work out of me, which was like the writing of I’d go on a trip with Yang, and I’d write a story and I’d do a video of it at the same time.
And then after the election, they asked me what I wanted to do. And I said I want to bring back “Off Message,” which was a podcast that Politico had in the past. And I said, but I want it to be a video thing, and weekly I talk to new power in D.C., and that would be the thing, and I do it every week. I do a video, a podcast, and I’d write a long-form story. And I was very happy with that concept. And they came back to me and they said that’s great, and we want you to cover new power, but we want you to do it on the White House team, and we want you to focus on Kamala Harris, the incoming vice president. Because, they were like, there’s no better example of new power than this Black woman becoming No. 2.
I was very excited, and I was very happy with that. And then they came to me and they’re like, we want you to do that, but we also want you to do that as a member of the Playbook team that we’re currently building. All of those moments kind of led to this, and what was really interesting and kind of a lot of foresight on the parts of the editors, and then I guess me at some point, was Harris was always going to be kind of an important figure. I think a lot of people didn’t know how important, obviously.
Joe Biden is old, and was always old, and he had talked about being a bridge. And the obvious answer, to where’s the bridge going, was to Vice President Harris. That was either going to be in 2024 or 2028. Either way, they wanted to make sure that we were covering that and covering her with the same amount of fervor, and with a critical eye as we were President Biden, because this is someone who, at any point, could be No. 1. So I think it has helped to change the way we here at Politico, maybe in journalism, think about the vice presidency and covering it, because that’s not how it used to be at all. That was a long-winded way to say that I guess I have a few core memories.
Johnson: You’re such a bold and strong representation of what it means to bring your full self into a space. You have such fresh energy. You’re obviously an excellent reporter, but you also bring your Blackness. You’re not shy about your queerness. You just have such a nuanced perspective. In contrast, the D.C. reporting landscape can seem like a really buttoned-up media sphere. I’m curious about your observations of the trials and tribulations of being a younger, Black, queer journalist in that space and in that landscape. It seems like you’ve had such a journey that has brought you into being more comfortable with bringing your full self in that space. Can you speak to that?
Daniels: I came out “late” in life. I came out at 27 and after I did that, I said “I spent 27 years pretending to be someone else. I’m not doing that again.” And I was like, I don’t care what jobs I have. I don’t care what it does to relationships. I don’t care.
And I think that moment gave me a strength that I didn’t know that I was going to need or have, or even had, to do that now, right?
I am who I am. I’m going to wear what I want to wear, and my hair is going to be what it’s going to be. My nails are going to be what they’re going to be, and if people have an issue with it, that’s absolutely their prerogative, but what people think about me is their problem. That’s easier said than done a lot of the time, but that’s the core of how I try to operate.
What I have found is that, for the most part, at least in front of my face and in person, around D.C., at the White House, on the Hill, or wherever I end up going, is that people are drawn to that. There is something about you being yourself that gives others permission, at times, to do the same thing. I have felt, often, a lot of love about it, about just fully being myself.
That doesn’t mean that there’s not detractors. There are many of them online who have many problems every time I either go on television or they see a picture, who love calling me all types of names on Twitter, in my DMs, on Instagram, in my emails, letters to Politico that they send me. It’s hard. That part of it is really difficult, if I’m being honest. And it is an unfortunate aspect, and a reminder of kind of like we’re not where we thought we were on some of these things, and people have backwards views of it, and they think it means you know something about them. If I’m walking around with a bright pink suit on from head to toe with a heeled boot, and it doesn’t.
What I often have to come back to is something that my mom told me when I was a kid, which is: You belong in every single room you find yourself in. And when you’re a kid, you have no idea what the hell your mom is talking about when she says something like that, I’m like, “You’re weird. What rooms am I going to be in?”
But as I’ve gotten older, that is the thing I always try and come back to, is no matter what I’m wearing, no matter what I’m doing, is focusing on that aspect of it, which is, there’s a reason that I’m here. Only I can do what I am attempting to do in this room. Then, you try to ignore the hate that you get.
Then I’ll get a letter from a mom or teacher who will say their kid saw me with nail polish, and now they finally feel okay wearing nail polish to school. Or I’ll be at the DNC or the RNC, and parents will come up to me and be like, my kid is queer. They wanted to be a reporter, and they didn’t think they were going to be able to be their full self, they thought they’d have to wear a navy suit and a tie, and now they feel like maybe they don’t have to. Those kinds of things are a good reminder of the power of leaning into who you are.
Also, if you’re fully embracing who you are and you’re into bringing it to work, there’s more brain space to focus on the work, because you’re not trying to hide anything. That’s what I really learned. Once I came out, I realized that I have much more brain space to not focus on, like, “Oh my God, what do I sound like? Oh my God, is my wrist too limp? Is this nail polish too much?” I can just focus on the work, so it’s also been a benefit to the actual work that I do.
Johnson: I love hearing that you have your mom’s voice on replay. You’ve been open about how important it is to you to bring your family along with you in your reporting journey. What reporting story were you most excited to share with your family?
Daniels: The one that I was most excited about involved my grandmother. When I was on the video team, it was during the primary. We knew South Carolina that year was going to be the make or break for Joe Biden. Both sides of my family are from South Carolina, from the Myrtle Beach area. The video team was trying to figure out, what are we going to do? We knew I was going to South Carolina, and we’re like, but how are going to do Man on the Street, talking to voters? How are we gonna do this?
And the head of video said, Eugene, why don’t you interview your grandmother? And I was like, that’s weird. You’re not supposed to interview your grandmother. And she was like, why not? She was like, it’s not your views, it’s hers.
So I went to South Carolina and did this hourlong sit-down with my grandmother. I talked to an elected official in the state, and also a young activist for the Democratic side. And sitting down in my grandmother’s sitting room with cameras around us, and talking about not just the politics and policies, but also using it as an opportunity to have her retell or tell new stories about our family, about her experience growing up in Jim Crow South, like all these different aspects of opening up the window for people to kind of understand more — it ended up working out really well for people to understand more things, because then we had the summer of 2020.
That was one thing that I felt like I had accomplished, was like putting out into the world kind of an explanation of what Black people have had to and have to still go through in the country. So like my grandmother telling stories, a story about how when she was a kid, a kid of six, and her mother would drive them into town and have a bucket for them to use the restroom in, because the bathrooms for Black people were so gross, and she just would not allow them to use it, and how they had to use a bucket outside. It was both, for me, a really good, strong story journalistically, and it was obviously the personal aspect of it. And now my family has, like, an hour of Nana telling stories about our family. I’ve done a lot of really cool stories and I’ve had a lot of amazing opportunities, but I always go back to that one. That probably will always stick with me.
It was a good reminder for political journalists that normal people matter a lot, right? The everyday voter, they’re the ones why this thing is moving the way it’s moving, right? Wherever this election is going, it’s not because we did it. It’s because the voters did and so, it was also a good reminder to always try to come back to the actual voters.
Johnson: What are your thoughts about what else political reporters are getting right and wrong at this moment?
Daniels: I think the thing that we have learned over the last few years is to not be so sure of ourselves as like the royal we. We should follow the reporting and show our work and not think we know everything right. Because if the last nine years have taught us anything, it’s that our politics are very confusing and getting more confusing. Less and less are voters sitting in these boxes that they were put in.
I think we’re getting that right. I think we’re learning, we’ve learned that lesson in large part. There’s tension where we’ve still got some growing pains. Still, I think we’re on the right track.
What we’re getting wrong? That’s a good question. I think that there is still a lack of focus on voters sometimes, or not wanting to understand why people are doing what they’re doing. Sometimes as reporters, it’s like people say, I’m voting this way, or I’m not voting, or whatever, we kind of leave it there. The question is the why? Why do people feel left behind? Who do they feel has left them behind? Is their anger pointed at the person who did it, or is it pointed at someone else? And what does that mean? There’s all these interesting stories, kind of within the why voters are feeling the way they’re feeling. And I think, I don’t think we focus enough on that.
I think we, after like 2016, we spent a lot of time in booths and diners talking to Trump supporters trying to understand, and I feel like we lost some of that, like we’re not spending as much time as I think we should talking to Black men about why they feel the way they feel about the Democratic Party.
We’re not spending enough time talking to Black women to ask them, “What does it feel like to be the foundation of a party and not always get the credit that you think you’re due?”
And talking to white men about why they feel left behind by everybody and what that anger does.
We’re not talking to queer people enough to talk to them about why they feel like these trans ads are scary, and what that means to them, not just politically, but policy-wise. What does that change in our politics?
Because so much of culture and understanding the people of this country should be the foundation of political coverage and it isn’t always. The good thing is that’s something that we could fix.
Johnson: What role do you believe political journalists play in actually shaping public opinion? How do you personally reconcile and balance the kind of influence that you have with your responsibility to inform?
Daniels: The responsibility to inform is something that gives me a lot of anxiety, if I’m being honest. When I got into the career path, Pam Jackson said, “You want to hold powerful people accountable,” but she also said, “And you want to tell the stories for those who can’t tell them themselves.” They are North Stars for me; I’m always moving in that direction.
The idea that someone will watch me say something on TV or read Playbook or listen to the podcast and use that information to influence how they feel about their country and possibly influence the way they’re going to vote is an enormous responsibility that I think that all of us as journalists should take really seriously and think about when we’re writing, because it is about putting a mirror up to the American people and being like, this is it. This is what you got and you make the decision.
I work really hard to make sure I’m not putting my thumb on the scale. And it’s not about me deciding who is right or wrong. There are certain things that are fact, that’s different. But it is about pulling myself and all of my feelings and emotions out of it, and thinking of it as kind of like a higher calling, of a public service. I’m telling you what you need to know to go make that decision.
And I think that that responsibility is one that should be at the center of all of journalism, right? Whether it’s the really deep dive, investigatory stuff, or whether it’s like a small item in Playbook, right? It’s like people are going to see this. Once you put it out in the world, you have no idea where it’s going. Is it as nonpartisan? Is it true? Did you show your work? What are the facts that you’re trying to present here? Is this something that across the spectrum voters can understand?
And often, when I’m thinking about journalism, I’m thinking back to Nana. Always, back to Nana and the women in my life. But I’m thinking about my 87-year-old grandmother sitting in South Carolina on a fixed retirement income. And it’s like, OK, what do people like her need to know to do their jobs? Or to live their lives, to make their decisions? That’s kind of how I think about it, which also puts a lot of pressure on the work, which is good, because we get a lot of opportunities and experiences that a lot of people will never get. So there should be pressure on us to get it right for the voters.
Johnson: If I was a young journalist reading this, I’d be like, Wow, that sounds really important, but also kind of scary. What advice would you give to young journalists entering political journalism today, especially when it comes to navigating ethics and bias and these ideas of objectivity that are ever-changing?
Daniels: Be scared. I think that’s fine. It’s fine to be scared. It’s fine to do a job in a career that feels too big. Learn everything you possibly can learn from the people around you, but then mold it and make it your own.
I would tell them the same advice my mother told me: You belong in every single room you find yourself in. You have to find a way to find news organizations and allies within news organizations who are going to uplift and hold all of the things that you hold important about yourself, they’re going to hold it as important to them about you.
I would say you don’t know everything, and that’s OK. It is completely OK to not know everything. That is the core of who I am. I’m just like out here being nosy and asking questions, asking really smart and interesting people, whether they be politicians or voters, about what they think, and then telling other people about it.
Stay focused on those aspects of it. Remember why you wanted to do it and stay with that, because there’s a lot of shiny objects that can pop into this career. There are a lot of terrifying moments, and so if you can find a way to hold on to why you got into journalism, that’s the most important.
Johnson: We’re a few days from the election and you’ve been covering Kamala Harris for years at this point. You recently interviewed her for NABJ. In some ways, you’re the Kamala Harris expert — almost like Maggie Haberman, but for Kamala Harris. What are the most fascinating things you’ve learned covering Harris?
Daniels: The most interesting thing that I’ve learned about Harris, because she’s really like the first big principal that I’ve covered: You have to go in thinking you don’t know anything and that things can change and that any preconceived notions that you have, even if they’re based in your own reporting, aren’t always as useful as you want them to be.
I think back to the beginning of the first year, where I started hearing people say, “The office is a mess.” You have to follow those storylines where they take you. We wrote some really tough stories, that some people on her team are still upset about, in that first year.
Then things changed a little bit. She got more comfortable. Changes happened on her team. Now that’s the storyline: How did they do that? What does that look like? How long can it actually last?
If you follow the story as it’s going, especially for someone like Vice President Harris, you end up discovering new things along the way, things that they as a politician are trying to keep a secret, often. How they operate as a person. Why they feel like they got into it and what they share with the people around them, so you have to stress test whether or not those things are true.
All politicians say a lot of stuff about being for the people. Is that true? That’s a question that you’re always having to figure out and ask, including with Vice President Harris.
I’ve learned to follow her story as it’s going and not think you know the twists and turns. If you asked me six months ago, would the person I’ve been covering all this time be the presidential candidate? Hell no! Right? You have to be ready for new things.
I feel really fortunate that Politico threw me on the beat. There are a few of us who have been around the Harris beat for a long time, when it wasn’t as sexy, when it wasn’t that interesting. There’s a deeper understanding of this complicated figure that you’re covering, and the people around them that influence all the ways in which they think, or, at least, show themselves.
Always be tough and fair. That’s the whole thing. Bringing the context of this country, and who we are as a society, all of that to bear when you’re covering those people.
Johnson: You give back to the profession because you see yourself as an extension of the advancement — all the matriarchs, Black people and queer people who came before you to make this possible. What are your hopes for the future of the advancement, for black and queer journalists?
Daniels: My greatest hope is that we are seen as equal to our counterparts and I think as Black journalists, as queer journalists, people often question our loyalty, they question whether or not we are able to be unbiased. They think that our backgrounds are some kind of bias, when, in fact, I look at them as a superpower.
It is a superpower to bring your full self to work and to lean into understanding Black people, and queer people and the marginalized.
I think my greatest hope is that the next generation doesn’t have to deal with that as much, because it’s something that we’re dealing with every day. The Black people covering Kamala Harris, people always have something to say about how tough we are with her. I’ll tell you one thing, her team believes that I’m tough on her, and are just as tough on her as we would be on Joe Biden or Donald Trump.
So that’s my hope: that we just are seen as just as good and are judged on the work and not our background.
Correction, Nov. 5, 9:15 a.m.: Daniels was sworn in as the White House Correspondents’ Association president over the summer.
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