I sit here, in pain, and feeling selfish for it. Anyone who worked as hard and beautifully as Soror Chisholm did has obviously earned a reward and rest and peace in the hereafter. Why do I feel selfish? Another national treasure has been lost, and one who inspired so many in different ways. I look to the hills and wonder from whence cometh our help?
Every bright, shining star that falls from the firmament (I'm in mourning, bear with me) reminds me of not only how impermanent everything is, but how little time those who want to work for good may actually have to make a difference. I feel time slipping by me, as I dither, and I know my heroes didn't dither. Shirley A. Chisholm knew that waiting around was not going to help her neighbors.
Circumstances came together, partly out of Soror Chisholm's determination, partly out of the divine order of things, and she was able to first run for state office, then in a gutsy move, US Congress in 1968. How inspiring that she was the first Black woman elected to Congress. I don't need to go into all of her political maneuverings: we don't need further evidence of her moxie. But the Sista was tough, and the Sista was tight. Sometimes misunderstood, but pioneers often are.
So I'm sitting up, reflecting not just on Soror Chisholm's life, and Soror Jordan's life, and, even Soror Hamer's life, but on their legacies, and my inheritance. And I don't feel well.
I've always acknowledged my heritage, not just ethnic, but political, and socio-economic. And I've become disenchanted with the Democratic Party, that's no secret. I also believe that the current manifestation of the CBC is rather weak in actual power, but strong in emotional power (with its constituents, anyway). I wonder what Soror Chisholm would think of this generation? Several of her peers are still in office; what is their cache? Has so little changed between 1983 and 2005? What have Black politicians and voters been doing? Why are we stuck in an-almost 30-year old rut? Do we value the struggles so cheaply?
I further wonder what Soror Chisholm would say to me, someone arguing against electoral capture, but still clinging to the majority. I mean, it's true, if Blacks are going to try to build upon what limited progress we've made, the "easiest" way seems to be within the Party Structure. But I balk at remaining tethered to such an inefficient structure. If I move away, I am guaranteed a lifetime of hard work with local tangible results, but an atlas-like task of national campaigns. Soror Chisholm seemed like a progressive woman who would have supported Lenore Fulani's third-party runs. But she would have worked deals right where she was, in a two-party system.
I think I mourn, not just for the life of a visionary, but what she represented to women, Blacks, and marginalized people throughout the country. She stepped out of her box, stepped out of race constraints, and stepped out of gendered dictates for the most part. And I don't see that happening nowadays.
I'll continue to look towards the hills, but with reservations. And I think that sums up the problems of the "Black Electorate." I don't think Soror Chisholm was content to look to the hills.