I traveled recently from Baltimore, the city where my mother grew up, to Portland, Maine, where my dad did. It’s easy for many to see differences between one of the Blackest cities in America and largest city in one of the whitest states in the country.
Picture a mountain valley somewhere in the Alleghanies, Appalachians or Blue Ridge. It’s a safe bet what you just imagined didn’t include a metal pipeline more than three feet wide running down a steep ridge or crossing a pristine stream.
As someone who’s been organizing since I was a teenager, I can tell you that it’s hard to get people to focus on two things at once. Pick a real need and work on it in real time – that’s the way to win people over.
The racial divisions that have split our country for centuries don’t just live in people’s hearts and heads. Some of them exist in concrete and pavement running right through certain neighborhoods. They are structural racism in the most tangible sense.
As an organizer who’s spent much of my life fighting for civil rights and access to the ballot box, I reflect on the work and words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. often, not just around the federal holiday for his birthday.
It strikes me that the days we’re living through represent a metaphor for our national dilemma. January 6th and the weight of history that date carries are in the rearview mirror, at least on the calendar.