05/10/2026
As a white woman organizing and running in a primarily Black district, this work has been humbling.
I do not say that for sympathy. I say it because it has forced me to listen, reflect, and understand history in a way I was not taught growing up.
When I started working at Warren Truck in 2021, I ran in two elections. The second time, I ran against a Black man who had held the seat for a long time. During that race, a woman said, “Why would I vote the Black man out for the white girl?” The man next to her started laughing — and honestly, so did I.
I could have gotten offended. I could have made it about me. But I understood where that comment came from. That experience does not compare to anti-Black racism, but it did humble me and remind me that every community carries history I may not fully understand.
That history includes generations of harm that white people and white institutions caused Black communities.
This year, I learned more about Fannie Lou Hamer. I learned about the forced sterilization she endured — what people called the “Mississippi appendectomy.” It disgusts me that she was alive during my parents’ lifetime, yet so many of us were never taught the truth about her strength, her suffering, and her fight.
That is why I do not get mad when I hear mistrust. I understand that what happened in this country is not ancient history. It is recent. It is relevant. And many of us were intentionally kept ignorant of it.
But I also believe we have to stop letting the elites use race, gender, and poverty to keep working people fighting each other.
I see people in every community being taught to fear, resent, or avoid each other. I have dated across racial lines, worked across racial lines, organized across racial lines, and I have seen prejudice show up in every direction.
That does not mean all prejudice is the same. It does not erase history. It means we have to be honest enough to name the pain without letting it control the future.
Poor white people were taught to blame Black people for their suffering. Black communities were forced to survive harm caused by white people and white systems. Women of every race have been expected to carry families, communities, pain, and labor while men and institutions fight for power.
Enough.
The people at the top benefit when we stay divided. They benefit when we fight each other instead of fighting poverty, corruption, exploitation, bad schools, unsafe housing, medical neglect, and the systems that keep our children struggling.
This is why I keep saying: this is a woman-led movement.
Not because men do not matter.
Not because race does not matter.
But because peace, children, families, healing, and community have to be centered again.
The revolution I believe in is not about revenge.
It is about truth.
It is about accountability.
It is about working people refusing to be divided anymore.
Woman revolution means peace.
Woman revolution means community.
Woman revolution means children first.
