The Undercover Introvert

Democrats Need to Celebrate Black People All Year Long

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Hello, Democrats, and Happy Black History month!

We’ve made a point in this country of officially celebrating black achievement and excellence throughout the month of February since 1976. But, as Democrats, we should really be celebrating black folks all twelve months of the year. Why is that, you ask? Well, despite the difficulties faced by black voters, they have historically turned out to vote, and they overwhelmingly vote Democrat.

As a rule, black folks don’t vote against their own interests. This gets proven time and again with every single election. Don’t forget, it was black people — and especially black women — who turned out to vote in the Senate race in Alabama last December, and we showed up and showed out in the 2016 presidential election as well, supporting the Democratic candidate in both races. We get called the backbone of the Democratic Party — a lot; most notably and recently by Democratic National Committee Chairman Tom Perez — and no truer words have ever been spoken. This is even more impressive when you consider the widespread voter suppression designed specifically to target communities of color. Gerrymandering, the loss of vital parts of the Voting Rights Act, strict voter ID laws, and disenfranchisement after felony convictions all play a part in making sure black people never make it to the ballot box.

And yet, many of us still do.

Did you enjoy watching Ralph Northam win the governorship in Virginia last November?

Thank black voters.

Did you breathe a sigh of relief when Doug Jones narrowly won over Roy Moore in Alabama?

Thank black voters, black women specifically, who we all know are magic.

Were you disappointed when trump won in 2016?

Well, guess who handled their collective business? If you guessed black voters, you win a prize.

We show up, and we vote democrat. So, why aren’t we regularly placed in positions of leadership? Why aren’t our issues valued across the board? Why is everyone ready to clap black women on the back for the Doug Jones victory, but disappear the instant we assert that Black Lives Matter?

What I’m suggesting is not to briefly sanctify us after every election because 98% of us voted against a child predator last December and 95% of us voted for Clinton in 2016 while 64% of white women instead voted for a train wreck. Don’t put us on a pedestal and then forget us until the next time you need us to turn out to vote. Valuing us means investing in our lives and our experiences, even in off years, even outside of the month of February. It means not recoiling or closing ranks when we attempt to take a seat at the table. It means practicing what you preach if what you preach is equality for all.

I’ve spent the last year and a half traveling almost exclusively in progressive circles. And I’ve been surprised and saddened to see how little diversity there is in many of our local groups. Contrary to popular belief, diversity doesn’t just mean looking out into a crowd and seeing a black or a brown face. It doesn’t just mean including us in pictures. It means seeing people of color in positions of leadership. It means valuing black lives and standing behind us in solidarity when we take center stage to demand equal treatment, not ushering us backstage to play a supporting role, as we’ve done since before the birth of this nation.

We’ve done a lot of desperate soul searching as a party since the devastating loss in 2016. We’ve struggled to regain our footing while simultaneously trying to figure out what happened and where everything went horribly wrong. But instead of looking behind us, we should instead focus on what’s ahead.

I submit that the answer to the question of how to win future elections lies in truly embracing equality across the Democratic Party’s platform, and that means understanding and appreciating a concept called intersectionality. I’m sure you’ve heard this term before, because it’s a buzzword that gets thrown around a great deal all of a sudden, but rarely seems to be understood.

Truly welcoming marginalized communities into the fold is the key to winning elections. We have to understand and acknowledge that inequalities based on race, class, sex, disability, gender identity, and sexual preference often intersect to increase injustice for many among us, and those voices need to be heard and valued. Not just in the month of February or during National Hispanic Heritage Month or National Pride Month or during an important election year.

Those of us who face daily discrimination on multiple fronts should be encouraged to speak, to run for office, to spearhead initiatives that will help other people who look like us. We aren’t window dressing for the Democratic Party. We are the Democratic Party. We aren’t easily swayed by artifice or tactics reminiscent of snake oil salesmen blowing through town every four years. There is power in our self-possession, our unending loyalty, our love of family, our courage to stand up in the face of widespread discrimination, and our deep reverence for this country.

We keep coming back to the Democratic Party. We aren’t showing up to the ballot box to save White America, as the news outlets reporting the Doug Jones victory would have you believe. We’re showing up to save ourselves the only way we know how — by choosing the candidate who most closely represents our interests and our values. For many of us, this is life and death, the difference between prosperity and ruin.

So, as Black History Month 2018 comes to a close, don’t let that be the end of your appreciation of black excellence and achievement. When you look around you and see no POCs in positions of leadership, ask yourself why that is. Step back when voices that don’t mirror your own are speaking, and truly listen. Instead of momentarily holding black people up after elections, try supporting them as they run for office or champion their issues. The Democratic Party will thrive when diverse voices are appreciated, encouraged, and heard. Black History is American History and American History is Black History. Our successes and failures are intertwined with your own, our futures irreversibly bound, and none of us is free until we all are.

**This is adapted from a speech I gave to my local Democratic Party

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Now That You’ve Marched, Organize

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I marched in one of the hundreds of Women’s Marches on January 21st, 2017, surrounded by thousands of fellow activists. We were pissed off, empowered, and vocal in our demands. For so many of us, it was our first time getting political. Last year, the march felt like the beginning of a movement. It was powerful. You could feel the energy humming in the air, as though change was rushing forward with deliberate speed. We were going to make a difference, that collective energy assured us, and the next 4 years was going to serve as proof of our commitment.

For many of us who marched, the next 12 months bore no resemblance to what our lives had once been. We got involved, we found initiatives to support and groups to join that were doing good, necessary work. We put our representatives on notice, calling, writing, and visiting their offices as often as we could. We tracked legislation. We joined our local Democratic parties and dove into canvassing and phone banking to get good people elected and find additional volunteers. Many took the ultimate step and decided to run for office. Resisting and community organizing became our part time jobs on top of the full time jobs we were already working to support our families. We kept the promises we made to ourselves and each other during those marches, when we could feel the power running through the crowds.

I have to admit, I wasn’t excited for the Women’s March this year. It frustrated me to see that many of the folks who were the most eager to attend were ones I hadn’t seen do much at all in the 12 months since the inaugural march. Some of these folks contact me from time to time to ask when the next march or protest is. They have their signs ready to go, they assure me, and want to know who we’re going to stick it to this time. When I tell these folks about a petition gathering event for a ballot initiative or encourage them to canvass to get a municipal candidate in office, they are not interested in getting involved. I’ve learned over the last year that there are many people who only want to attend marches. I don’t understand this, because marches don’t actually change anything. Hard work and organizing in your community makes change. Getting people into office who will represent your values and do what is best for their constituents makes changes. And, bonus, once these people are in office, we won’t have to march or protest to show our displeasure at how out of touch they are. That’s the point of all this, isn’t it?

Marching is cathartic. The energy is infectious in that big crowd and many of those marching are also working hard in their communities. It’s good to have an event to blow off steam that’s built up over the last several months of bone wearing work. Attending that first Women’s March was transformative for me, and it lit a fire under my ass that is still blazing. I know that to be true for many of my sisters and brothers in arms, and I’m thankful for them because they keep me motivated when the struggle seems endless and futile.

But marching simply to march doesn’t create change. A march without follow on action doesn’t do anything at all.

So, if you find yourself fired up after this year’s Women’s Marches, take that energy and funnel it into organizing in your community. Midterm elections are insanely important and we’re running out of time to get ready. All 435 seats are up for grabs in the US House of Representatives as well as 33 seats in the US Senate. There are 14 gubernatorial races this year, as well as hundreds of state Senate and House seats, and thousands of county and municipal offices. Everything is at stake. Let that electric energy carry you into this year with renewed focus. Get involved, if you haven’t already. It’s not too late. Your local Democratic Party needs you desperately. Your local branch of the ACLU or NAACP. And if no one is organizing in the way you think your community needs, pull some friends together and create your own group. It’s hard work, but rewarding. You’ll meet some of the greatest people you’ve ever known. You’ll be inspired each and every day. And when that change starts rolling in on that fabled Blue Wave, you will know you did your part, which is a feeling I can’t describe to those who haven’t yet felt it.

Marching engenders solidarity, but that solidarity is merely illusory if you don’t turn that heady feeling into action. I’m illogically optimistic for the direction of this country. I’ve seen what can happen in 12 short months when a determined group of ragtag members of the resistance work tirelessly. So, don’t just march, organize.

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Lessons Learned from a Year of Insane Activism

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When I say this year has been bananas, I’m not kidding. In the last twelve months of focused, frenzied, nonstop activism, I’ve learned lesson after valuable lesson about what it means to truly make change in my community and beyond. This kind of rapid learning on the fly is what happens when you get thrown into the deep end to sink or swim, right? Turns out, I can swim, but not as fast as I’d like. Yet. Still, the experience has been invaluable, even if a little batshit crazy. Here are some of the things I know now that I didn’t know this time last year:

You can’t champion every cause

Initially, I joined every organization I could find (and even helped start one) and went to meetings or an activity every night of the week and all day on the weekends. This feverish insanity went on for months. It helped to fully immerse myself in the local political climate, becoming knowledgeable about all of the issues that mattered. Unfortunately for poor, introverted me, there were way too many issues that I cared about. I ran myself ragged and fell into a perpetual state of bleary eyed exhaustion that wasn’t emotionally or physically healthy, nor was it sustainable long term. It took going through a hurricane to realize that I needed to prioritize and carve out personal time or I was going to burn out all together.

People will disappoint you

I’ve met more people in the last year than I have in the last decade. No joke. Riddled with anxiety and unable to remember a person’s name for the first twenty times I ‘meet’ them, I think I’m doing pretty damned well holding it together socially. I’ve met some seriously kickass people since the 2016 election. These folks are closer to me right now than people I’ve known for decades. We’ve been battle tested and run through the ringer together. I’m stuck to these fellow activists like glue and would drop everything to show up when they needed me.

But there are also people whose conduct, lack of interest, overall shitty attitude, and unwillingness to follow through on anything they commit to doing are constant sources of frustration. My mother didn’t raise a goldbricker, so if I say I’m going to do something, I damned well do it. I can’t understand people who don’t show up or complete a task they’ve volunteered to undertake, but they are out there. Everywhere. I’ve tried to come to terms with this, but it still burns me up every time.

You won’t always get it right

This was another lesson internalized the hard way. I don’t think there’s a task I’ve taken on this year that has been done the right, most expedient way the first time. I recalculate. I reassess. I go at it from another direction, keeping in mind what didn’t work the last time. It’s labor intensive and aggravating to the point that I’ve considered tearing my hair out by the handful or screaming my throat to bloody ribbons. Instead, I soldier on, wiser for the inevitable fuck ups, because what else is there to do?

You will fail over and over again

Seriously, this kind of work is unpaid and unforgiving. You try, you fail, and you try again. That’s the long and short of it. Get used to falling short, to nonstop hustling that never manages to reach the goal, to pouring blood, sweat, tears, and expletives into the cause only to end up right back where you started. Don’t let it discourage you. Just keep on keeping on.

There is always work to be done

I’ve learned to juggle more causes than I’d have believed myself capable of a year ago. And when one campaign ends, another three are right there to take its place. Causes multiply depending on the number of organizations you join, and the tasks are never ending. Training is sparse, there are no guidebooks, and you’re going to do a lot of guesswork, but when in doubt, act like you know what the hell you’re talking about. You’ll figure it out along the way. I sure as hell did.

You will be more fulfilled than you ever imagined

This is the real shocker from 2017. I’m exhausted, running on caffeine, chocolate, and cheese, constantly frustrated, and feeling like I’m being pulled in thirty different directions at once. But I’ve also never been more certain that my life is serving some higher purpose than I am right now. I honestly feel like I’m making a real difference, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything in the world, even though I sorely miss my cozy little existence of binging on books and Netflix while ignoring the rest of the world.

You will realize that giving up isn’t an option

After every heartbreaking loss or setback, I’ve found that my resolve only strengthens. I’m not quite sure what happened to the Negative Nancy I used to be 12 short months ago, but nowadays getting pushed down only makes me spring back up with even more piss, vinegar, and old fashioned determination. I will see this through, whatever the cost to my personal life or sanity, because I already know the high price of complacency.

I have many more lessons to learn, causes for which to fight, and frustrations to mitigate with lengthy happy hours spent bitching, commiserating, and planning with my fellow activists on balconies shaded from the Florida sunshine. I wouldn’t have it any other way, honestly and truly.

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