Democratic Convention notes: Night Three
The Revs Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton moved me most among the parade of Wednesday’s mostly-fascinating speakers.
Jesse Jackson. Jesse spoke in vivid biblical imagery of darkness and light — we’re in darkness now, but we can and must choose in this election to move toward the light.
Al Sharpton. Al referred to casting out “the vile spirit that inhabits our body politic” (unconfirmed recollection). Of course I respond to this as I see our present post-2000 predicament in this very imagery: I think that this many otherwise decent people this deluded for this long can only be accounted for by supernatural forces of darkness.
Whether this is literally true or metaphorically true I’m not sure even matters. The point is we’ve not been ourselves for at least four years now, and the time is upon us to cast off these forces that bind us.
Al’s further imagery that African Americans’ votes are soaked in the blood of Goodman, Schwerner, and Chaney, and in the blood of four little girls in Birmingham, and are therefore (answering Mr. Bush) not for sale, I found particular powerful.
Sharpton video accessible here. Like him or not, the man can preach, and preach with power.
Elizabeth Edwards. I didn’t know what to expect. What I saw was depth within depth, joy and hope bubbling up from a deep place. I think she’s the kind of person I’d treasure as a friend.
John Edwards. John made me proud as a Southerner and as an American, no surprise (video and transcript). And I don’t think he was at 100%; he’s got even better in him. Delivered some complex content while sustaining audience interest (no small feat). I’m not keen on the emphasis put on defeating terrorism militarily — “You cannot run, you cannot hide, we will destroy you” — as I don’t think that even makes much sense, but I realize it’s a necessary emphasis to help those who think otherwise turn their trust to Kerry.
More important to me is this, and yes, I’m persuaded Sunny John really means it. I think his commitment to “the least of these” (all us non-elites, we working folk, the teeming multitude of us) is completely genuine:
We choose hope over despair; possibilities over problems, optimism over cynicism. We choose to do what’s right even when those around us say “You can’t do that.” We choose to be inspired because we know that we can do better — because this is America where everything is still possible.
What we believe — what John Kerry and I believe — is that you should never look down on anybody, that we should lift people up. We don’t believe in tearing people apart. We believe in bringing people together. What we believe — what I believe — is that the family you’re born into and the color of your skin in our America should never control your destiny.
Of course it’s a dream, but it’s a dream undergirded by the whole arc of scripture and (IMO) common sense, sufficient reasons, I think, to dream it wholeheartedly, too.
Finally, I’m struck by how Kerry doesn’t need to be the charismatic center of attention to win this and effect change. He brings his own formidable strengths, yes, but more important he is surrounded by, and complemented by, talented, smart, caring, and passionately determined people the gifted likes of which I don’t remember ever seeing assembled in one place before. This is a movement, baby, a healthy one whose words and deeds align, one that’s drawing more of us all the time. There’s no single point of failure; it depends on no one man. I’m thinking this is excellent news.
