Attendees listen to Democratic U.S. Congressional candidate James Talarico at Kingdom Builders Center in Houston on Sunday, July 19, 2026.
Elizabeth Conley/Houston Chronicle
“Talarico’s got a Black people problem.”
That was the frank analysis of Christian Alexander, a 36-year-old political podcaster and strategist for Houston Black American Democrats. I met him on Tuesday inside the Third Ward Multi-Service Center right past an abandoned convenience store and down the street from Texas Southern University.
Alexander wasn’t the only one with a lot to say about the Democratic U.S. Senate candidate.
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Already, James Talarico, the former middle school teacher and Presbyterian seminarian, had gotten a tough scolding over the weekend. During a town hall in southwest Houston, he’d said all the right things: about protecting voter rights, supporting Black candidates and fighting for public education funding. He’d touted his efforts, showing up at a handful of Baptist churches and historically Black universities and stopping for a plate of smothered chicken at Mikki’s Soul Food. He’d even pledged to spend $25 million on Black voter outreach – a level of investment he said was a first in Texas’ modern political history. But when Talarico’s campaign staff tried to wrap up questions after about an hour, Kandice Webber, a Houston nurse and political content creator, wasn’t impressed.
“Our people don’t trust you for this reason,” said Webber, who is Black. “And you cannot win without us. So you stay here, you answer our questions, or you suffer the consequences.”
The road to Blue goes through Black
The tense moment went viral, of course, even if it didn’t reflect the prevailing cordial tone of the town hall. But what Webber said, about Black voters being the backbone of any winning Democratic campaign, is true – and Talarico knows it. He’d said as much in his opening remarks. And after the primary, where U.S. Rep. Jasmine Crockett won 8 of 10 Black votes in Houston and Dallas, Talarico also knows that he can’t take for granted that those voters will show up for him in the general election.
Recent polling shows a majority of likely Black voters do plan to support him over his ethically challenged, dismally unfit opponent Ken Paxton. But to flip this seat, Talarico needs the unlikely voters – the young, the disaffected and the ones not quite persuaded yet. Webber, the influencer, later posted another video in which she said “real Black folks” were going to sit the election out to teach “white moderates” a lesson about earning the support of Black voters.
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I don’t doubt that Talarico’s earnest pitch – about fighting for the bottom and middle at a time of yawning inequality – resonates with many Black Americans. I think it resonates with many people, period. But what would it take for Talarico’s Black doubters to truly believe him, to want to head to the ballot box and give this self-described choir boy a chance?
On Tuesday night, ideas abounded. About a hundred or so Black Houstonians filed into folding chairs, ready to give their advice. They grabbed platefuls of catered spaghetti, jalapeño rice and shrimp empanadas from Savoy and homecooked red beans and rice, potluck-style. Speakers included Kamala Harris’ former communications director Ashley Etienne and Harris County Democratic Party Chair Traci Gibson. Social media influencers – including Erika Harrison of Black Girls Who Brunch, Juli McShaye of Pretty Petty Politics – were peppered throughout the first few rows. A chunk of 90 minutes was slated for community members to take the mic and air their thoughts.
James Talarico, it should be noted, wasn’t there. (Though a campaign staffer reportedly was.)
Because as Alexander, the young political strategist, put it, while Talarico might have a Black people problem, it isn’t a problem for Talarico alone. Black voters feeling taken for granted is a longtime Democratic problem (that, yes, Talarico currently embodies). The event, hosted by state Rep. Jolanda Jones, was partly to remind all Democrats that “the road to Blue goes through Black.” And too, it was partly a collective catharsis.
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In response to U.S. Senate candidate James Talarico’s recent town hall, state Rep. Jolanda Jones hosted a Democratic listening event, “The road to Blue goes through Black” in the Third Ward Multi-Service Center on Tuesday, July 21, 2026.
Regina Lankenau
The young and the disaffected
Wearing a baseball cap and a black T-shirt with rapper Petey Pablo’s grinning face, Alexander stood out from a crowd that skewed 45 and older. But it’s people like him, he said, who Talarico and other Democrats most need to court. “The country is in shambles,” he said, ticking off the reasons: two financial crises, several senseless wars, a pandemic and runaway inflation. The youngest have been hit the hardest.
As Tyler Smith, a 26-year-old candidate for state House, explained, our generation has seen corporations rake in record-breaking profits while everyday Americans shoulder record-breaking debt.
Smith, who spent years at the state Capitol with Everytown for Gun Safety, calls Talarico a friend. There’s no such thing as a perfect campaign, he said, but it starts with making sure young Black voters at least know “who James is.”
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And those voters, as Alexander noted, aren’t at church, where Democratic candidates have traditionally courted Black voters. “We’re at brunch,” he said. “We’re at the bars. We’re doing social things – and not in the traditional ways that our elders gathered.”
Even an “old curmudgeon,” as Carroll Robinson described himself, knows that. Tall and professorly in a crisp white button-down, Robinson is a former Houston City Council member and chair of the Texas Coalition of Black Democrats. Alexander calls him “The Seer.”
Robinson had a wealth of free advice.
For starters: “Get up on Black radio ASAP!” Like the late U.S. Rep. Mickey Leland who rode public buses, Robinson said, it’s about meeting people where they are – in the Super Targets and Walmarts. Stiff town halls and one-off commercials aren’t gonna cut it.
“You’ve gotta pound away at that infrequent voter” – white, Hispanic and Black – Robinson continued. That’s the only way for Talarico to make up the 300,000-some votes that will tip the scales. And you’ve gotta convince them of your policies, in their own right. “Telling us that Paxton is the devil isn’t enough,” he said.
But there’s something else, something less tangible.
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Though a lot of us (me included) feel overwhelmed by all the things that need urgent attention – the rollback of civil and voting rights, the unaffordable groceries and health care, the attack on critical institutions – the Houstonians who showed up at the multiservice center on a school night hadn’t checked out. They were there, present and engaged. They hadn’t given up hope.
Robinson motioned at the room, bursting with overlapping voices. “If you look at this audience, they’re not opposed to Talarico,” he said. “But they gotta know in their souls that when there are some tough decisions, he won’t sell them out.”
Bridging the divide
But how, in a world of competing priorities, does that play out?
During the listening session, one participant shared that she was tired of constantly hearing about LGBTQ and immigration issues. The grumbling crowd interrupted her, and Jones reminded everyone that Black voters aren’t a monolith.
Still, another woman echoed the complaint that Black-centric issues get short shrift. “Immigration this, immigration that,” said that woman, who identified with the African diaspora. “What about us?”
It’s a fair question – one that divides generations.
For 29-year-old Imari Reynolds, caring about immigrants doesn’t feel like a zero-sum thing, she said, particularly when Black immigrants are twice as likely to get deported. “And damn near all my friends are LGBTQ,” she added with a laugh.
When it was her turn at the mic, Reynolds stood proud in a T-shirt whose rainbow block letters spelled “have the day you voted for.” She didn’t mince words. “To all those saying you’re gonna stay home,” she said, “you don’t speak for me.”
The room buzzed with approving mm-mm’s.
Then came her mic drop: “If you stay on your couch in November, the Republicans will steal your couch come January!”
Hollering cheers erupted from the crowd.
More than a dozen Black Democratic Houstonians line up to air their concerns during “The road to Blue goes through Black” event in the Third Ward Multi-Service Center on Tuesday, July 21, 2026.
Regina Lankenau
A participant earns cheers from the crowd at “The road to Blue goes through Black” event in the Third Ward Multi-Service Center on Tuesday, July 21, 2026.
Regina Lankenau
The energy was, frankly, infectious. It reminded me of my own rambunctious Mexican family reunions: as fun and soul-nourishing and exasperating as they are edifying. I couldn’t imagine why candidates like Talarico wouldn’t prefer that kind of real-world spontaneity over prepackaged campaign stops.
Sure, you might get the odd speaker who confronts and challenges you. But that’s what it’s all about. As Alexander told me, real campaigning is about “active participation in communities you don’t belong to – even if it’s uncomfortable.”
Talarico, wherever you are, I hope you’re listening.
Regina Lankenau is an editorial writer, columnist and a member of the Houston Chronicle editorial board. She can be reached at regina.lankenau@houstonchronicle.com.