Part Nine: Thoughts On The Obama Inauguration And The Republican Party

[Excerpts from my article posted on Chattanoogan.com, January 2008]

Thoughts On The Obama Inauguration And The Republican Party - And Response
by Jean Howard-Hill
posted January 26, 2009

The day was like none I had seen. I had been asked by the Chattanooga Times Free Press to give my reflections from the day for a feature Sunday article. I wrote:

Coming from a lineage of slavery, and as an infant of the civil rights era, I rejoice to see this day! For it was just yesterday that Fannie Lou Hammer was beaten in a Mississippi jail for registering to vote. Blacks were lynched, hanging from trees as strange fruit for wanting to be free and to exercise their rights as citizens. Even my own story is one of personal impact of racial hatred. I was born in Alabama, because my family fled from Georgia to Alabama, and then to Chattanooga to escape the KKK and segregated schools and inferior facilities. The beatings, the dogs, the hoses. The injustices and inhumanity. Who among us dared dream this day would come? But at last, it has.

Casting my vote for Obama, I swelled with pride. Seeing him accept the nomination, I wept. But when he was sworn in as the 44th president of the United States of America, I saw with my own eyes, the prayers of many generations answered. No words can adequately express what I feel. There is weeping. There is joy. There is hope. Yet there is fear predicated from knowing, not all of America will celebrate. Not all will rejoice. But there is hope that we are on our way to removing racial barriers that stain our nation’s history. There is hope in a nation whose people looked beyond the color of one’s skin and elected one of color to lead our nation. Yet as in the days of Nehemiah when the wall was completed and you could not distinguished weeping from those who rejoiced, I too both weep and rejoice. My heart is heavy because the pain inflicted from an era of inhumanity and my personal experiences has left many scares. Yet my spirit rejoices to see this day.

I capsulated those thoughts and sent them off, but they did not totally reflect all that I truly felt. I wasn’t sure if any writing could do that. However, I knew I had to leave a record of those emotions and feelings that embodied my very soul, so that my daughter would know and have a better feel of this historical moment, as she passed it on to her children and her children’s children.

From the eve of the inauguration until dawn, I was restless. I tossed and turned. My heart was with the Obamas. I prayed for President Elect Obama, his wife and his two daughters. I saw the beauty of family in them. The preciousness of their two daughters found a special place in my heart. I thought about just how they must feel, and that perhaps even they weren’t so sound asleep knowing what lie ahead of them.

When I did doze off, the racial realities of yesterday dominated my thoughts and brought about restlessness throughout the night. The horrors of slavery, the civil rights era, and my own personal experiences of racial injustices caused me to be overwhelmed.

I remembered my own history. The segregated lunch counters, having to drink from the “colored only” water fountains, being chased by whites as we took short cuts through white communities, attending segregated schools and using out-dated text books, being called a nigger, my father being called boy, the humiliation and insults, the fear of not feeling safe, and especially losing the birthright to my birthplace because of the Klan that sought to take my father’s life, all played before me in a recap of my history.

I awaken with so many mixed emotions about this great historic day. I was happy, yet I was saddened. I rejoiced, yet I wept. I had hope, yet I felt so frustrated. Because although many celebrated, and especially those of us who came from a lineage of slavery, I knew as an African American Republican, today’s political milestone was still an upheaval for those like me, who knew the true story of racial discrimination, black tokenism, and the white walls of silence that still existed within the Republican party.

While my sisters and brothers of color celebrated, I felt like those who after the Emancipation Proclamation were still held by the clutches of their slave masters with none to afford them real and true freedom. African American Democrats had something they could call a milestone in racial equality, because their party had moved beyond racial hatred and political lines of color to elect the first African American president. But for me, I felt even more the fist of the Jim Crow laws of the Republican Party like a noose around my neck, so much that I felt politically strangled. That noose restricted those of color in the party who were not among the token chosen, or those who went along to get along and be included. My spirit was still bound by a form of Republican slavery, which ignored the cries of those who were victims, and silenced those who spoke out against it. It was bound by secret Republican Jim Crow laws that barred those of color who dared think themselves equal to whites, and relegated even those who were qualified to bow down and get behind those who had lesser qualifications or no qualifications at all to serve or be elected. My party had become a party where you need only have money and the ability to crush those who you felt to be a threat in order to rise to power. I knew this all too well because I was among those bound, blackballed, crushed and silenced.

This day brought to mind that my struggle to remove that noose began around the 2001 Inauguration of President G.W. Bush. Both my daughter and I were there for that occasion, just as many were gathered today. Now eight years later, and even after having written the book, Black Eyes Shut, White Lips Sealed in 2004, still no one was willing to right the wrong or to even speak of it openly. Though well documented the wrongs that had been done, no one dared even acknowledge what I had written. African Americans being purposely and cruelly excluded from the Republican Party was not something which caused public outcry. Perhaps it was because it involved those in elected and appointed power, who were tied to the Republican money base. It was like a secret revealed as loud as thunder, being silenced by a whisper not to make my story known, with hopes that in time, it would go away. But because it is a story of truth, truth never dies. It only bides its time.

No matter how I have pled for help and to have this wrong made right, I have seen those from the local to the state, to the national levels ignore that plea, and white republican lips remain sealed tight. But what grieves me most was that those sealed lips were among those who counted themselves as people of faith and religious conviction. As I witnessed this, I have come to the place where I no longer believed in the god of the white Republicans I have encountered within the party; those who speak religion but practice their own brand of righteousness. I do not know their god – a god who allowed for a double standard of justice for some, and injustice for others, based upon the color of their skin. Theirs is a god of tokenism, who prefers only one or two of color and not the masses. A god who tolerates racial hatred, and is willing to turn his head and pretend it does not exist. A god who lacks compassion, and tolerates injustice. I fear their god, because of the hypocrisy, cruelty and bigotry I see in those who claimed to follow after such a god.

But for my own faith and knowledge of a God of Justice whose standards do not change, and who has no respect of person, I would have lost my faith.

I sat thinking about all of this, as I grew heavier and even more grieved in spirit. I tried so hard to lift myself up in the glory of this moment of history which I witnessed in this day. The more I tried the heavier and more grieved I became.

As I retired for the evening, I went on to Chattanoogan.com after not having gone on for a few weeks. There were postings that further vexed my spirit, and made my burden of the day even heavier. I saw those who spoke of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., yet rendered a deaf ear to my plea against racial injustices within the Republican Party. I saw those who had practiced racism, exclusion and mean spirited politics, gather, and some now being supported to move on to seek other levels of elected office. I saw many of whom, whose qualifications did not begin to equal mine be in positions of elected and appointed Republican leadership. I saw those with money gather in support to ensure they got the money they needed to further this practice. I saw the same old political regime, some even crossing party lines, covering and supporting each other, to ensure their own support, re-election and appointment. I even saw how being on the so called “wrong end” of politics had affected my ability to be appointed to a local position, because of his alignment with my opponent. I saw how blackballing is not just political, but it has far greater impact. With all of this so obviously starring me in the face, I became overwhelmed with injustices to the point that I cried out to God.

“Lord how long will you allow your name to be used and your righteousness mocked by those who clothe themselves in it, only for their individual and selfish political and financial gain? How long will the people remain blinded to all of this? How long will you remain silent and allow those whose hearts are breaking to continue to be subject to those whose god is their own greed, and selfish quest for power!? How long will you sit back before you judge right from wrong?”

I felt my frustrations mounting, and I knew on this of all days, neither my heart, nor my spirit could bear this insult. On a day when the world was witnessing a new level of freedom, I realized just how out of touch the old Republican regime was. The old way of politics as usual, sickened me. I wanted no parts of it.

There was silence.

It was as if there was a pause in the heavenlies where that which was in heaven was attentive to that which was on earth. I froze in that moment of time. It ended as I looked and this e-mail had come in from one of my former UTC students who happened to be white, and now was in law school. It came at just the right time. It was as if God was using this e-mail to speak to me, to let me know that there was a new generation who was different, and that there was hope for change among a new generation, just as it had been with Democrats. In part, the e-mail read:

January 20, 2009

9:14 p.m.

Hi Second Mom!

I was just thinking of you today during the Inauguration. I was just thinking of things that you had to go through during your lifetime and how significant it is for you to see Obama become the President. I'm sure you are excited, and I am too. :) It's just amazing to me that in one person's lifetime that there can be such racism and segregation to see the dream of Martin Luther King, Jr partially realized. It is truly amazing. And not just that, but the fact that he was born the child of a single, moderately incomed mother with the odds stacked against him and he made it. I'll admit... I was not a huge Obama supporter, but I can realize the importance of this day and the struggles and adversities he has faced to get to where he was... I just wish that you were representing the people of Tennessee as well. I also want you to know that I, and my family, voted for you during the election. I know the outcome isn't what we had hoped, but I am, and forever will be, a Lady J supporter! I know that you have a heart for people, and I truly hope that you are given the opportunity to share that with more than your students at UTC.

Paige

I e-mailed her back saying:

Dearest Paige:

I needed this e-mail.

It was a very emotional day for me today. Also, I realize just how much Republican racism has played a part in blocking me from doing just those things you mention.

Thanks for the encouragement. It meant so much to me. It gives me hope in your generation, and the generations to come.

Also happy to hear about your successful semester in law school. You can do it. I have faith in you!

Let me know when the wedding will take place. You know I will be there.

Love you sooooooo much,

Your Second Mom

Her response was:

January 20, 2009

10:43 p.m.

It was an emotional day for many people, and it has also been an uplifting, amazing, inspiring day for MILLIONS of people. I personally believe that educators, LIKE YOU, have a huge part in events like today. You have one of the most important jobs in the world - you inspire, teach, and lead young minds. I know you have had a HUGE impact on me, and I carry lessons you taught with me... Like I told you, when I came to school and they said that there were 3 branches of government, I quickly said there were 4. I want to thank you for all you do everyday. It may go unrecognized by some, but not all.

I also have a renewed hope in my generation. It makes me proud to be an American.

Also, something I meant to tell you in my last email - one of my professors today called class off and we all sat and watched the Inauguration speech. She reminds me a lot of you. Her name is Shirley Howell, and is a Torts professor here at Jones School of Law. She told us a moving story about being in an elementary school classroom and seeing National Guard armored vehicles outside. Going from that to today is truly remarkable and worthy of MUCH celebration.

In a simple e-mail exchange, God used one of my former white students to encourage me at the very moment when I wanted to just throw up my hands and walk away from politics forever.

I had seen those less qualified and even unqualified move to the front of the line in leadership in the party, while those African Americans like myself who were more than qualified were blackballed and excluded. Yet the party talked of inclusion and paraded those of whom it could control to attempt to make the case that the party was inviting of African Americans. I saw how many African American Republicans were used and when they no longer were willing to conform, they were let out to pasture. I also saw how they pitted one black against another through limited and undeserved appointments and political goodies.

The reality is that if I was a white Republican, I would have a place at the table and no doubt, would have been appointed or elected to office. It wasn’t about winning an election or getting an appointment. It certainly was not about the political goodies. It never was. It was about political equality and opportunity for all races within the Republican Party. It was about doing what was right. For me, it was about truly loving and serving the people, putting aside differences and breaking down barriers that separate good people from doing good things, for the right reasons, and not about selfish gain or power. She was right. I did have a heart for people, and because of that, I ached to know that not even they fully understood this.

As new history unfolded and past history was reflected upon throughout the day, I thought about how I had come into the Republican Party in 1979 during the Reagan era as a promising young Democrat, who had a bright political future. I thought about the price I had paid, as well as the price other African American Republicans have paid to wear the Republican label to no avail. As someone of color who is Republican, it is like wearing a scarlet letter which causes you to be suspect to those of your own race and relegated to abuse by those who find you dispensable and insignificant to their political base. Since most African Americans are not openly Republicans, the party has adopted a policy of doing whatever they wish to the few who are there, because we carry no political capital. Getting other African Americans to understand this and why someone of color has to cross the line, as the lamb for the slaughter in order to effect change also carries it burdens and bruises. It is difficult for most to understand. Therefore, you risk everything to make that lonely and treacherous journey of change. I had taken that risk in 1979 when I decided to become a Republican.

I thought about how I have given all of these years of my life as a Republican, heading national organizations and recruiting people of color to the Republican Party, only to find that the party wants our vote, but not the voice of real African American leadership at the table or in leadership. I remembered being called a nigger. I recalled how those I had recruited along with me were not welcomed. I knew how I had been targeted and excluded simply because I was a threat to those who could not control me and could not use me as a token black to do their dirty work.

I had come to know that if you are an African American Republican willing to be told what you should believe and what issues you should or should not address, then you are accepted. But to be an independent thinker who has the intellect and ability to arrive at your own decisions and core values, you become a threat if you are of color. That threat factor causes you to be quarantined and excluded. This is what has happened to me, and to many other of my Republican brothers and sisters of color across the country. Those who conform are put on display. But those who will not conform find themselves Republicans in name only. We talk about this among ourselves. We hurt silently. Some who because of positions that impact their livelihood simply close their eyes and just go along with the flow, accepting tokenism, and the noose around their necks, rather than have no place in the party. Sad to say, there are even those who have convinced themselves that to conform is the American way. While there are a few who have found a rare breed of white Republicans in leadership who can look beyond color, and accept us into their ranks. But this is something which is becoming indeed rare.

Watching the Obama girls today beam with joy and such political innocence, I thought about how my daughter beginning at the tender age of 5 had to witness political racism. I thought about the tears she shed, as she looked into my eyes and saw my hurt. Or as she sat there with those who didn’t regard her presence as being important, as they poured out racial cruelties. After the death of my husband, she was with me every step of the way, and was privy to the ugliness of politics. Because of this, I struggled to keep her spirits lifted, and to prevent her belief in the goodness of mankind from being tarnished. I did not want her to grow up believing all whites were racists. I did not want her to lose confidence in her ability to bring about change. Although it has made her strong, I prayed that Sasha and Malia never would have to face what my child had encountered most of her 21 years.

Despite the fact that I have come to know a form of racism which is religiously justified and deemed necessary to preserve a predominantly white republican powerbase, I have found among the grass roots, some white Republicans who do not adhere to these kinds of practices. They are rarely found among appointed or elected leadership, but they mostly are among those who have not been tainted by racist and mean spirited politics. Often they are on the outskirts of the political base and have no knowledge of what has been done. They simply vote Republican without regard for who the candidate is, which makes them a partner to injustices and racism. This is unfortunate because some of them are my sisters and brothers of whom I share in the knowledge of their God. Then there are those who have arose with courage to say racism is wrong. But for having some of them offer me consolation and support, my burden and my grief would be even greater to bear. Nevertheless, the general rule is to shun the one of color who is being shunned by the party, even if you know of the wrong. Out of fear of being the one to side with the one of color or be a witness to the wrong done, many would rather do so, than to lose out on the opportunities that are handed out by those in power.

I also have found something else to be strange within the Republican ranks. The word of someone of color, even if it is true and can be proven to be so, is almost never taken over that of someone who is white. When you see this happen, it crushes the very spirit of truth within the soul.

I saw how those with money gave in return for favor, and those who received using it for their personal gain, and to buy the favor and bind those who were elected.

These were all truths of which I reflected upon that battled with my peace, and competed with my sense of pride and excitement to see the first African American president elected. I also knew that my pain, just as had been done with my book, probably never would be revealed. I simply had lost faith and confidence in those who had it within their power to unseal it to do so. Yet on today, my story stirred within me, and could not be quieted. It arose as a cloud of witnesses and dominated even the historic moment of the day. I could not watch the inauguration without that cloud hanging over my head and penetrating my thoughts.

How I wished this was a true moment in history where the theme of unity and oneness of our nation was shared as a part of the Republican agenda. But the reality of it not being so made the cloud of my own history all the more painful.

Around 3:07 a.m., as a new day had been ushered in, I tried to close my eyes, and think about only the good that had happened within the historic moment of the day. Knowing that I too had to move on without seeing that milestone in Republican history where the party has moved beyond color and is inspired to govern with compassion and to do the right thing, I was convinced now more than ever that my work within the Republican Party was not finished, and perhaps never would be. For years I had worked so hard to make this happen. I had spent 28 years trying to bring the party of Lincoln back to its roots, and to provide a place where people of color could truly be represented at the table, to see it seemingly be all in vain. Change had to come to Republicans, but I did not know the course this should take, nor did I believe any longer that I could be that catalyst. I was tired. I was weary. I was worn. The battles I had fought had become far too impossible for a party that was not willing to change. I also wasn’t sure if remaining in the middle as an Independent was the answer.

I asked God for a visible sign of “His Will” for my life. My fleece was in two parts: If Obama won the democratic nomination and if he was elected president. This would be my sign that it was time for me to return to the safe haven and welcoming arms of the Democratic Party. This is where I wanted to be. For so long, I longed to be where I was wanted and could be accepted. The price I had paid in leaving to fight a battle which had to be fought within the Republican ranks was immeasurable. Only my daughter and I could measure it in its toll upon our lives. Although I refused to return defeated, I knew I had done all I could to bring about change and had many scars to prove it. Because of this, my leaving does not signal defeat. But rather, the end of an era, just as today’s events marked the end of an era and the beginning of something new. Whatever it signaled, what I was fully convinced of was that I have to continue to try to invoke a spirit of change, and carry it through impossible odds, overcoming the wealth and power of those who would resist change, driving it through the cruel and miry waters of racism, politics as usual and greed, to penetrate and bring down the political walls of economic and social resistance and racial barriers. It was a new day, a new generation; a new time and a new way of rebuilding America. This was something that had to be done in order to make it truly a land of the free and one which represents all people, regardless of race, religion and creed.

I share my innermost personal thoughts with you LaShunda, so that you can enter this into the archives of our family history and hand it down to your children, so that they can know and understand their political history.

Forever I love you my princess, and I thank you for being by my side during these years of political struggle. Now “together”, we will take courage to move forth to bring about good not for ourselves, but for those we have been called to serve. Let us never forget the lessons we have learned at the hands of hard taskmasters. Nor let us ever forget to be compassionate, caring and selfless as we fulfill our purpose.

I know the road has been rocky, and what you have had to endure beginning as a child until now, has been far too much for anyone to endure. Yet it has made you strong and it has baptized you with the political fire that is needed to make you resilient, yet unmovable. Because of what we have had to go through, it has made us longsuffering and has given us the patience that is needed to give birth to good things. It has given us compassion to serve and an understanding of the true meaning of being oppressed. It has taught us how to care for others, even if it means placing them above our own needs. It also has given us an opportunity to see how doing what is wrong can have such a devastating effect on not only those of whom it is targeted, but to the larger society as well. Because of this, let us never be partakers of doing intentional wrong. Never let us forget what we have come to know is wrong. Never be tempted to do wrong to others, even if it is done to you. Learn to forgive and go on, but understand that it is not always safe to forget. But never allow what you cannot forget to consume you or to tempt you to do a wrong to right the wrong done to you. Just know that for every seed that is sown, there is a harvest that in time those who have done wrong to you, shall reap it in multiple folds. So sow what is right, and according to that same principle of harvest, multiple goodness shall you reap.

My dearest LaShunda, you have a bright future ahead of you. I am grateful for the opportunities you also will have to effect and even witness change within your lifetime. Keep pressing towards making a positive difference, making your life count for good. This is your ancestral calling and lineage.

…And to my lineage which is yet to be born, as you read this even after I am dead and gone, may you also carry out the calling that is upon my lineage to serve others regardless of what position you may have in life, with love, humility, compassion and wisdom. This is the only way to preserve the freedoms that we have witnessed today.

Your Mom,

Jean Howard-Hill
jean.howard.hill@gmail.com

[Although the emotions of that day placed me at the crossroads debating if I should continue as a Republican and be forced to be an outsider or to wear the Independent label, I knew deep within, this was my calling. Not only this, but I believed in many of the core values of the party. So in order to remain true to my calling and to myself, despite the welcoming arms of the Democrats, especially Brenda Nunn and Sandy Smith, I had to stay and continue to fight the good fight. What bothered me even more was that the same Democratic Party Robin Smith had portrayed as ungodly, was the one with some of the nicest and godly principled people, welcoming me with open arms. ....Interesting indeed.]