met jesse jackson He died on Tuesday at the age of 84.when I was working on Capitol Hill in 1988. As I recall, while running for president, Jackson held rallies and gave speeches on the steps of the Capitol. Luckily I was near the front so I was able to shake his hand. I remember him being tall and having a very strong grip.
Like all the historical figures I’ve met in my life, I’ve always followed him, read books about him, and paid attention when he made headlines.
But I knew Jackson well before I met him. When he ran for president in 1984, he Including LGBTQ+ rights as a central pillar of his political platform. He was the first major candidate to support LGBTQ+ rights, and I’ve always admired that about Mr. Jackson. Believe me, in 1984, at least in my memory, no one was declaring support for our community.
Related: Reverend Jesse Jackson, civil rights pioneer and LGBTQ+ rights advocate, dies at 84
This is all part of his famous “Rainbow Coalition,” in which he included LGBTQ+ people along with BIPOC communities, women, and others, advocating for their inclusion in the Democratic Party and a broader fight for equality.
I remember having a conversation about Jackson once and saying it wasn’t ironic that our Pride flag and his coalition share a rainbow. Jackson valued inclusivity and always tried to include us.
For those of us who came of age in the 1980s, Jackson was more than just a preacher and a civil rights activist. He was always a valuable ally.
Jackson’s advocacy for our community became even bolder in the early to mid-1980s, as it coincided with the rise of discriminatory organizations such as: jerry falwell’s moral majority.
Falwell’s political group preached devout Christianity but was restrictive in using the Bible as a weapon against us in the midst of the AIDS crisis. It was a time when gay men were dying, lesbians were organizing care networks because the government wouldn’t do it, and fear was overwhelming.
Related: 12 far-right groups with extreme anti-LGBTQ+ positions that threaten civil rights
Jackson did something that was neither safe nor politically expedient. He showed up, and that meant something. Frankly, that was a no-brainer at a time when most people avoided our community.
Mr. Jackson entered hospice care. He joined hands with people suffering from AIDS, humanize them. And in 1984, from the podium at the Democratic National Convention, he loudly uttered the words “lesbian and gay” and asserted that we are part of the American family.
This generation cannot understand how Jackson’s words and actions were like a thunderbolt. I didn’t feel like anyone actually acknowledged our presence. Although I was still in college and reclusive, I remember the fleeting comfort his speech gave me. I felt vindicated, if only temporarily.
At the time, I was far removed from the AIDS crisis, but reading about the devastation of the plague and reading about Jackson made me realize how important it was because we were being treated as an epidemic, a curse, a punchline. Believe me, jokes about AIDS were pervasive and memorably offensive.
This was important because too many leaders tried to adjust their proximity to the community. People died of disease, families and communities were torn apart, and politicians tried to find ways to be “sympathetic” without sounding like they were endorsing what was then known as the “homosexual lifestyle” or “homosexual disease.”
But not Jackson. He had the empathy and foresight to accommodate us. He understood that giving dignity to one group does not take away dignity from another group, which still seems revolutionary in some parts of American politics.
At the end of the day, we’re all just humans. Jackson understood that.
And I think part of that was Jackson understanding that there are mistakes in life and that he made mistakes, and he apologized for them, and he recognized human frailty. When Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated on the balcony of a Memphis hotel in 1968, Jackson was by his side. Jackson knew that speaking out was dangerous, but silence was even more dangerous.
His Rainbow Coalition blended black, white, brown, poor, immigrant, and LGBTQ+ people. A coalition of people who have been laid off. The declaration “We are a people” does not mean that we live in silos.
In the wake of Mr. Jackson’s death, the contrast between the inclusive world he sought to create (a world filled with rainbows) and the exclusionary world the current administration seeks to impose on LGBTQ+ Americans became suddenly clear.
While Mr. Jackson spent his life expanding the definition of “us,” Donald Trump is shrinking it, systematically, aggressively, and unapologetically erasing it. Just as Jackson spoke of rainbows, Trump speaks of storm clouds.
And the symbolism of the rainbow has come under fire.
recent Pride flag removal The statement from Stonewall National Monument was a slap in the face to our history and Jackson’s rainbow legacy. Stonewall is more than just a park. This is the birthplace of our modern liberation movement. The same goes for rainbow crosswalks, rainbow flags on federal websites, rainbow flags on federal employees’ desks, and rainbow flags at U.S. embassies abroad.
Related: Hundreds of people fill the streets near Stonewall as New York City residents raise Pride flags after President Trump ordered them removed.
For Jackson, rainbows were all about hope. For Trump, that’s a threat.
Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition brought LGBTQ+ visibility into the mainstream of national politics. The Trump administration has branded the rainbow flag a “divisive” symbol that violates institutional neutrality.
After all, what Jesse Jackson offered in the 1980s wasn’t just rhetoric, it was honesty. At a time when LGBTQ+ Americans were treated like trash and people with AIDS were ignored by the government, he insisted on seeing us as human beings.
Jackson incorporated us into the Rainbow Coalition. The rainbows on either side were no joke. It was a reminder that inclusivity doesn’t make us weak, it makes us strong in different colors.
Jackson understood that when you stand by the most marginalized, the dying, the marginalized, the poor, the ridiculed, you don’t cloud America. You’re making it brighter. And perhaps that is the greatest lesson he left us.
Source: Advocate.com – www.advocate.com
