Throughout his life, Jessie Jackson has raised people up - up from poverty, up from despair, up from lack of self-love, up from a racially biased society. And he raised me up…….But I get ahead of myself, I will start at the beginning.
I am a cis-gendered white woman. As a child, I attended a progressive Presbyterian church with my family. My mother had an unofficial but very real role - she was the one who stood up when a hymn started, showing the assembled congregation when to stand (it was at the end of the third line of the intro). So, we always sat in the same place, the third pew from the front on the left hand side. That stuck with me through my life. Enter a church, go to that pew.
At the end of the 60’s I served as a VISTA volunteer in Appalachia. One of my most enjoyed tasks was to help run a tutoring program at the Black church in town. I got to work with wonderful community leaders. This was a time of ferment with the death of Martin Luther King and civil unrest, but they aways made me welcome. When it came time for the SCLC convention in Charleston SC, I got permission to drive a number of Black community members to the convention at the AMC Zion church. We arrived and, without thought, I led my friends to the pew I always took - third from the front, left side, in front of the pulpit.
It was an amazing experience. The loss of of Dr. King still rang through the feelings of all there. There was rejoicing around the successful resolution of the hospital workers’ strike and resolve around the beginning of the Black sanitation workers’ strike. The power of the meeting can be understood by someone who has attended a service at an AME Zion Baptist church. But the thing that stood out most of all was the presence of Operation Bread Basket out of Chicago led to Rev. Jessie Jackson. He preached about the rights of Black people and talked about how they were organizing. Then he began his legendary call and response, calling out with the congregation repeating:
I MAY BE ON WELFARE...BUT I AM SOMEBODY…
I MAY BE POOR…BUT I AM SOMEBODY
I MAY BE HUNGRY..BUT I AM SOMEBODY
I MAY BE BLACK…BUT I AM SOMEBODY
The church rocked with a roar of repetition, of pride, and of strength.
Then Rev. Jackson looked down at the third pew, where I sat with my Black community members, as far as I could tell, the only caucasian person in the sanctuary.
I MAY BE WHITE…BUT I AM SOMEBODY
And the roaring response
I MAY BE WHITE…BUT I AM SOMEBODY
My community members smiled at me with a special pride. My heart rose. I was lifted up. I felt part of something so much bigger than I was. A minority, I was made part of the whole.
And that stayed with me to this day. Thank you Rev. Jackson. And may I say back to you, in the words of today:
BLACK LIVES MATTER
BLACK LIVES MATTER
BLACK LIVES MATTER