My mom, Clida, taught my four brothers and me about her father's work to organize black voters in rural Louisiana in the 1950s. We carried her dad's legacy of activism with us. The civil rights movement was present in the daily life of my family in Detroit in the 1970s.
I'll never forget working to get my college, Wayne State University, to divest from the government in South Africa. This was the beginning of my activism, and the fight for social and economic justice has been a constant thread in my life. My activism led me to toss my hat in the ring for chair of the Democratic National Committee, where I will work to reclaim our history as the party that stands with working people.
Unfortunately, some political opponents continue to distort my record based on an old right-wing smear campaign — not my work in Congress, or my vision for the future of the Democratic Party.
Go back 25 years to 1991. Cameras recorded the brutal beating of Rodney King by Los Angeles police. Unemployment for African-Americans was 13 percent, and the war on drugs was driving up incarceration rates.
I was working with young people in my neighborhood of north Minneapolis and saw the challenges they experienced while looking for a job or trying to rent an apartment. I was a young lawyer hoping to bring more fairness to the criminal justice system. And I was trying to help folks in the community organize for a better quality of life.
I saw the Million Man March as a positive effort, and I helped to organize a group from Minneapolis to attend. Like many young African-American men at the time, including President Obama, I hoped the march would promote change in our communities, and I was proud to be part of it. Civil rights leaders, from Rosa Parks to Jesse Jackson, and artists such as Stevie Wonder and Maya Angelou supported and spoke at the event. Of course, a huge number of black men — some counts as high as 1 million — showed up as well.
My values — going back to my childhood — were always based on respect for all people and rejection of bigotry and racism. When I first heard criticism about Louis Farrakhan, the leader of the Million Man March, I felt the march's message of empowering young African-Americans was being attacked.
But I clearly didn't go deep enough. I defended the organizer of the march in writing, but I glossed over the hurtful and divisive language he directed at other communities.