Olivia: Most people think they know Kamala Harris's story: tough prosecutor, then politician. But the book reveals a core contradiction that started almost on day one of her career—a decision that put her directly at odds with the community and family that raised her. Jackson: That’s a great way to put it. It’s a tension that runs through the entire book. And that book is The Truths We Hold: An American Journey by Kamala D. Harris. Olivia: Exactly. It’s a memoir that got a lot of attention, a New York Times bestseller, but what many people forget is the context. She wrote this before she was Vice President. Jackson: Right. And what's fascinating, and what makes this book so much more than a standard political memoir, is that it’s written by the daughter of two dedicated civil rights activists. Her parents met in the movement. That context makes her choice to become a prosecutor—to willingly join the very system they fought against from the outside—so much more compelling and complicated. Olivia: It’s the central question of her career, and it’s a question that really began with a single, dramatic case she stumbled upon as a law school intern. It’s a story that tells you everything you need to know about her approach.

Olivia: So, picture this: it’s 1988. Kamala Harris is a summer intern at the Alameda County District Attorney's office. It's a Friday afternoon, the courthouse is emptying out, and she's reviewing a pile of case files. Jackson: The classic intern grind. I’m picturing stale coffee and stacks of manila folders. Olivia: Pretty much. But then she comes across one case that stops her cold. A woman had been arrested in a drug bust. But reading the report, it was clear she was just an innocent bystander. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The problem? It was late Friday. If nothing was done, this woman, who had done nothing wrong, would spend the entire weekend in jail. Jackson: Oh man. And a weekend in jail isn't just a weekend. That could mean losing your job, not being there for your kids… the domino effect is huge. Olivia: Exactly. Harris writes, "Everything was on the line for this woman: her family, her livelihood, her standing in her community, her dignity, her liberty. And yet she’d done nothing wrong." So, this young intern, with basically zero authority, starts running through the courthouse. She finds the clerk of the court and pleads with him to get the case called. She convinces him to go find the judge, who had already left the bench for the day. Jackson: Wow, so as just an intern, she had the nerve to do that? That's incredible. Most interns would just stamp the file and go home. Olivia: She says she was terrified, but she did it. And it worked. The judge came back, reviewed the case, and ordered the woman's immediate release. She was able to go home to her children in time for dinner. And for Harris, this was a lightning-bolt moment. She realized that the person with the power to right that wrong wasn't the defense attorney or an activist outside—it was the prosecutor. Jackson: That’s a powerful story. But Olivia, that's one person. The critics of her 'progressive prosecutor' stance, which the book has been both praised and criticized for, would say that's not systemic change. That’s a feel-good anecdote. How does she justify building a career on that one moment when the system itself produces so many wrongful arrests? Olivia: That’s the exact question the book wrestles with. Her friends and family, steeped in activism, asked her the same thing: "Why would you want to be a part of that system?" Her answer, and the core of her philosophy, is that you have to fight to change systems from the inside. She argues that it’s a false choice to say you’re either 'tough on crime' or 'soft on crime'. Jackson: Okay, so what does that look like in practice, beyond that one case? How do you scale that empathy to an entire system? Olivia: A great example she details is the "Back on Track" program she launched as San Francisco's District Attorney. This was for nonviolent, first-time drug offenders. Instead of just sending them to prison, which has a terrible recidivism rate, the program was incredibly rigorous. Participants had to plead guilty, get a job, go to parenting classes, get a GED, and do community service. Jackson: So it’s about accountability, but also about building a path forward. Olivia: Precisely. And the results were stunning. For typical offenders convicted of similar crimes, the reoffense rate was over 50 percent. For graduates of the Back on Track program, it was less than 10 percent. It was so successful that the Obama Justice Department adopted it as a national model. She argues that this is what being a progressive prosecutor means: holding people accountable, but also recognizing their humanity and investing in their redemption to make communities safer in the long run. Jackson: I can see the logic. It’s about being smart on crime, not just tough. But that tension never really goes away, does it? The system is still the system. Olivia: It never does. And that same tension, that same philosophy of fighting for the vulnerable inside a massive, flawed system, wasn't just limited to the courtroom. It became the blueprint for her biggest battle as California's Attorney General: the foreclosure crisis.

Jackson: Okay, so we're moving from individual criminal cases to a full-blown national economic disaster. That’s a huge leap. How does she connect the two? Olivia: Through the idea of the American Dream. She starts the chapter by talking about her own mother, an immigrant and scientist, and the immense pride she felt when she was finally able to buy a small house. It was their piece of the world. Then, she contrasts that dream with the nightmare that unfolded for millions during the 2008 financial crisis. Jackson: The foreclosure crisis. It felt like the whole foundation of the country was cracking. Olivia: It was. And she tells the story of one family, the Santillans, to make it real. They were homeowners, Juan worked at the same plant for twenty years. They were persuaded to take out an adjustable-rate mortgage. Their payment started at $1,200 a month. By 2009, it had ballooned to $3,000, just as the economy crashed and Karina, the wife, lost her job. They lost their house. Jackson: A story that played out in millions of homes. And it wasn't just bad luck; the banks were engaged in some truly predatory behavior. Olivia: That’s what she uncovered. She talks about these infuriating, illegal practices. One was called "robo-signing," where bank employees would sign thousands of foreclosure documents a day without any review, just to push them through faster. Jackson: And I remember hearing about "dual tracking." Hold on, what does that even mean? The banks were doing what? Olivia: It's as cynical as it sounds. The bank would be telling a homeowner on the phone, "Yes, we're working with you on a loan modification, just send us these documents." And at the same time, in a different department, that same bank was moving forward with the foreclosure process on their house. They were simultaneously promising help while preparing to kick them out. Jackson: That’s just villainous. It’s a system designed for you to fail. So she saw this happening. What did she do? The federal government was pushing for a quick, national settlement with the big banks. Did she just go along with it? Olivia: Absolutely not. This is one of the most dramatic stories in the book. The proposed national settlement was for about $2.5 billion, which sounds like a lot, but spread across the country, it was pennies on the dollar. For California homeowners, it would have been a pittance. So Harris flies to a meeting with all the other attorneys general and the banks. She listens to the proposal, and then she does something no one expected. Jackson: What happened? Olivia: She walked out. She pulled California out of the national settlement negotiations. She said the deal was crumbs on the table and that she was launching her own investigation into the banks' conduct in her state. The pressure on her was immense. Even people in her own party told her she was making a huge mistake. One bank's general counsel even tried to pressure her by mentioning his parents were big supporters of hers. Jackson: That’s bold. How did she respond to that? Olivia: Her response was ice-cold. She looked at him and said, "Do I need to remind you this is a law enforcement action?" In the end, her gamble paid off. By holding out and fighting, she secured a settlement for California worth $20 billion—more than eight times what the state would have gotten from the original national deal. Jackson: Wow. So that wasn't just political theater. It led to real, tangible relief for people. Olivia: It did. And it led to the California Homeowner Bill of Rights, which she championed. It outlawed practices like dual tracking and gave homeowners a real fighting chance. For her, it was the same principle as the intern in the courthouse: see an injustice, find the lever of power, and fight for the people who don't have a voice.

Jackson: So when you connect the dots, from that young intern in the courthouse to the AG taking on the biggest banks in the world, what's the real 'truth' she's holding here? What’s the central message of the book? Olivia: I think it's the belief that systems are ultimately made of people. And while systems can be flawed, bureaucratic, and even cruel, they can also be changed by people with courage and a clear-eyed sense of justice. The book makes a powerful argument against cynicism. It rejects the idea that you should only protest from the outside. Her truth is that you have to get inside the room where decisions are made and fight for the levers of power. Jackson: It’s a redefinition of what it means to be an activist, in a way. Olivia: Exactly. And it reframes patriotism. She quotes her mother saying, "Don’t let anybody tell you who you are. You tell them who you are." The book extends that to the country itself. A patriot isn't someone who just accepts their country as it is, flaws and all. A patriot is someone who fights every day to make the country live up to its ideals. Jackson: That’s a really powerful takeaway. It definitely leaves you thinking. It makes me wonder, for our listeners, where in your own life—at work, in your community—is there a system you've been tempted to just criticize from the sidelines? Olivia: That's a great question. What would it look like to get inside and try to change it, even in a small way? We'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Find us on our socials and share your perspective. We read everything you send. Jackson: It’s a challenge to see problems not just as things to complain about, but as things to be solved. Olivia: And a reminder that the fight is always worth it. Jackson: This is Aibrary, signing off.