I was six when I followed my father into the D.C. Rainbow Coalition offices.
It was chaotic, in the way that offices tend to be. A Xerox machine sat where it seemed people should be able to walk. Paper stacks of varying sizes appeared to have outlasted their utility and been set aside until further notice. But most memorable were the buttons. They said "PUSH for Excellence," but they happened to be the most randomly scattered items in this bare-bones, frenetic base camp for Jesse Jackson's 1984 Presidential bid.
I don't know how, at that age, I realized that black people simply were not elected US Presidents. But I knew of at least one who was certainly going to try. As we walked back to the Metro station, I asked my dad if Jesse Jackson would win. Though he was volunteering with the Jackson campaign, his grunted reply told me not to hold my breath.
Now, it has come to our attention that Jesse Jackson said some things. Things that aren't pretty. Things that refer not only to Barack Obama's purported arrogance, but also to his family jewels. My initial reaction to merely hearing that Reverend Jackson spoke disparagingly of Senator Obama was anger, followed by dismissal. Finally, I was confused. The aging activist -- the melodic orator -- had been crude? So crude that I couldn't see the clip on network TV?
It made sense once I glimpsed the footage of Jackson's remarks, picked up on a mic he didn't realize was "hot". I saw Jackson cock his head to one side and whisper furtively to his FOX News co-commentator, who had more sense than to offer any response. The words were familiar, almost gossipy. He dispensed with titles and called the Senator by his first name. Jackson expected his on-screen counterpart to share the sentiment that Obama had been "talking down to black people." He was attempting to commiserate about the younger, yet exponentially dynamic candidate who had captured the world's eye in a fraction of the time it took for Jackson to build his own legacy. And, to beat all, Obama had done so despite the reluctance and suspicion of veteran Civil Rights leaders like Jackson himself.
Then came the funny part. Jackson, still whispering, told us of an operation he wished to perform on Obama. A subsequent jab of his left arm suggested he would not be providing anesthesia. Forgive the colloquialism, but I think the expression is: LOL.
Jackson spoke like the old man who's lived on the block long enough to see it yield a new generation. He felt like taking Obama down a notch, if for no other reason than he's old enough the be his daddy.
But there are other reasons his feathers were ruffled. Jackson's slip revealed a very human side of the Reverend. As he looks back on his activism, which dates at least as far back as Obama's toddlerhood, he feels a certain ownership of the opportunity for a black man to now be the Democratic nominee. And it stands to reason; without Selma 1965, we would never have arrived at Iowa 2008. And D.C. in 1984 was one of many stops along the way. (The Rainbow PUSH organization would remind us of his historic bids in 1984 and 1988.) But, erroneously, Reverend Jackson also lays claim to the right to exhort black folks to be responsible for their families, as Obama has done recently and consistently.
So let us have our laugh at Jackson's coarseness. Let's rally around the concept of being above the fray and setting aside such pettiness in favor of actual issues. But by no means should we allow this matter to be scandalized, or framed as another blow to Obama's supposed Achilles' heel - the black church. (Which, by the way, is nonexistent as a single, collective entity.)
Jackson blew off some steam during what he assumed was a personal exchange. But when it comes to the remainder of the 2008 Presidential race, he'd do well to channel his energy to helping bring to fruition the equality of opportunity he's devoted a lifetime to. Somehow, I expect that's just what he'll do.