On the eve of South Carolina, I worry very seriously about the fate of African American voters in November 2008. Ever since FDR, most African Americans have firmly been on the side of the Party of Progress. We've been through a lot together, from the New Deal to the integration of the armed forces, from federal desegregation orders to "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow".
More after the leap...
My grandmother's generation had FDR and Eleanor. My mom's generation had the Kennedys. And this 30 year old black woman cast my first vote for President in 1996, in Florida for William Jefferson Clinton. He was inaugurated on a crisp January day during my sophomore year of high school, and I remember the celebrations included many of my childhood idols, like Maya Angelou and Michael Jackson. The only other presidents I remembered were Reagan and Bush I, but I felt like I knew about the others. I remember my parents cursing and changing the channel every time "the Gipper" and his successor appeared on the screen. I remember their despair on Election Night 1984, as our violent, Rust Belt city rusted out some more. I remember them talking about FDR, JFK, and his brother... if we could only get the right Dems in office, that somehow, everything would be all right.
The time had come in 1992. When I remember my teen years in the 1990s, I remember a distant Y2K far on the horizon, but I also remember an exuberant economy, styles in music and fashion that I haven't completely gotten over (sheepish grin), and President Bill Clinton. Sure, he offended my young activist soul over Sister Souljah, over welfare reform, and especially over Rwanda (I mean, were me and my geeky friends the only people in America who knew what was going on in the spring of 1994)? But all in all, he seemed to be a great President. At least, from our vantage point in Detroit. The 1980s were all crack wars, plants closing, and Reaganomics for us... the 1990s saw the comeback of the American auto industry with SUVs (yes, evil, I know), and of our city in the guise of a centrist mayor, federal empowerment zones, and by the end of the decade, greatly reduced crime. The city of my early teens was no more by the time I returned from college as a teacher.
For most of this decade, I have looked at the 1990s with nostalgia, for reasons both political and personal. Don't stop thinking about yesterday. I was seriously considering joining the Clinton campaign a year ago, and received an invite to a February 2007 house party. I had very warm feelings towards the Clintons, despite my teenaged idealistic disappointments, and thought perhaps I'd work for the sure winner this time.
What a difference a year makes.
My huge concern is that a Clinton nomination will leave a huge wound in our party, especially among African American voters under 45 who have not voted in any election before 1980. Many of those who are counseling wisdom here are invoking Democratic nomination processes that those of us under 45 (in other words, those of us younger than the Boomers) do not have the lived experience to contextualize. I think it would surprise many Boomers, Silents, and Greatests if they realized how difficult historical imagination is for many of us. I only begin to attempt it because there is a very, very strong oral tradition in our family that goes back deep into slavery. (My family was one of the lucky & favored ones -- skilled tradesmen on both sides). Therefore, I grew up hearing my grandfather talk about FDR, and working for the CCC, or selling the very papers that announced the stock market crash. Then again, I grew up next door to my grandparents and they shared some of my rearing. Thanks to the changing society of the past 50 years, very, very few folks I know had that experience.
Because of the race factor being injected into the campaign, I am afraid we're burning bridges. Perhaps I don't have the lived experience to put this into perspective, but I remember every election since 1984. I remember Jesse Jackson's runs in 1984 and 1988. I just don't remember hearing the kind of bitterness and acrimony on the part of plugged-in African American voters back then. There is a sense, justified or not, that Obama is trying to walk the tightrope between being relevant to the black community and not running on race or as the leader of black America, and those people won't let him.
Normally I wouldn't worry about this much. Primaries are the time when all the various factions in both parties vie for primacy. This is natural, and I'd say that even the Clintons' "strategy" isn't quite beyond the pale. I always figure it could be worse.
The problem is that today on the Warren Ballentine talk radio show, I heard Warren and callers talk very seriously about the fact that Cynthia McKinney is eyeing the Green party nomination for president. Until today, I had never put two and two together. Despite her detractors, Cynthia McKinney is well respected by many in both the African American and progressive communities as a strong antiwar voice.
Worst case scenario: The frustration that some African Americans feel about "the race thing" siphons off needed votes into a Cynthia McKinney run for the Presidency.
Florida 2000? Ohio 2004?
How about the Black Vote 2008?
Although I do support Obama, I will vote for the Democratic nominee in November. And I hope that I am representative of the black community, who has pulled the lever faithfully since at least the 1930s. I hope that I am not just being paranoid, and that there is no chance of this happening. The media seems to be moving the election to Hillary vs. McCain... what if this is the election with both Perot (Bloomberg) and Nader (McKinney)?
I think you'd at least agree that it would be a major mess. We cannot allow this to happen. John Edwards is right. All candidates and their campaigns must call for a moratorium on the race stuff, coded or overt, and mean it.
We can't wait until Convention to start repairing these bridges. I think it needs to happen now. All three of our top candidates have their strengths, or else thinking Dems would not be supporting them. We all have our preferences, but we are not each other's enemies. The Democratic party is supposed to stand for diversity as strength. Will we betray our own history in this, the most historic and open election since 1928?