Underground Groundbreakers of Today #4: Nadya Okamoto

In recent years, there has been a growing movement to raise awareness about menstruation and all things associated with it. Multiple states have gotten rid of the so-called “tampon tax,” which refers to how period products, which are necessary products for anyone who has a period, are taxed, while many other necessary products are not. There has also been more public pressure on schools to provide free period products for students who need them. An important player in this movement has been Nadya Okamoto, a 21-year-old Harvard student who began an organization called PERIOD when she was 16. In just a few short years, PERIOD has become the largest youth-run NGO in women’s health, and particularly popular in the United States. PERIOD has gained more than 350 chapters at colleges and high schools across the country.  

So who is this ambitious young woman? Nadya was born in New York City in 1998 and moved with her mother and sister to Portland, Oregon. They didn’t have a home of their own while she was in high school, and while commuting to school on the public bus, she talked to many homeless women and learned more about the difficulties of dealing with your period when you don’t have the most basic resources to do so. She heard stories of how these women used items like toilet paper, socks, paper grocery bags, and cardboard for their periods. She was inspired to do more research and learned how much of a struggle menstruation is for so many girls and women both in the US and around the world. She and her organization certainly have their work cut out for them: despite the success there has been so far in dropping the tampon tax in some states, there are still 34 states that tax period products, while male products like Rogaine and Viagra are not taxed. Period pain is the most common reason girls miss school, and in developing countries periods are the leading reason girls miss school. For such a common natural function for more than half of the world’s population, which lasts for about 40 years of someone’s life, Nadya has recognized that more needs to be done, which is why she has devoted so much of her life to it.

As if being a Harvard freshman and running an international nonprofit organization wouldn’t be enough for any teenager, Nadya decided to make a run for the Cambridge City Council in Massachusetts. Not surprisingly, she was the youngest person of the 26 candidates running. Her team was run by young people, and her platform focused on many urgent issues including affordable housing, climate change, and equality in education. She didn’t win, but her efforts were certainly impressive.

This Underground Groundbreaker profile is shorter than usual, but only because Nadya is so young and just getting started. She has already done so much to both help break the stigma of periods as well as provide resources and support to those who need it. She may not have won a seat on the Cambridge City Council, but I have a feeling that even higher offices are in her future, should she want to continue in that direction. I would not be surprised to see her name in the near future as more legislatures pass more sensible period-related legislation. No matter what she decides to do, with PERIOD or otherwise, Nadya is a great inspiration to girls and young women everywhere. I can’t wait to see what else is in store for her and for PERIOD!

To learn more about Nadya and PERIOD:

Underground Groundbreakers of Today #3: Mayor Satya Rhodes-Conway

The moment when Satya Rhodes-Conway, the mayor of Madison, Wisconsin, decided she could get into politics was when she was the most nervous: she was about to testify about affordable housing in front of the Madison city council. The feeling is understandable–while the representation of women in US politics is slowly but surely increasing, the overwhelming control of the profession by men sometimes makes it hard for women to break through. 

But then Satya realized something important.

“These are just people,” she thought of the (mostly) men sitting in front of her as she gave her testimony on as crucial of an issues as affordable housing. Once she reminded herself that the people listening to her weren’t necessarily any better or smarter than she was, she instantly felt more empowered and less nervous. This was the moment for Satya when it became possible to one day become an elected official too.

Before running for the Madison city council and eventually for the city’s mayor, becoming the city’s first openly gay mayor, Rhodes-Conway’s only other election was for chair of the Lesbian Bisexual Alliance (LBA) at Smith College, where she majored in biology. While she grew up in an activist household, her parents were mainly interested in specific issues more than electoral politics or state or local government. This background, as well as her scientific training, would come into play once she decided to run for mayor in 2017.  

Born in New Mexico and raised in Ithaca, New York, Satya received her master’s degree in ecology from the University of California, Irvine, after graduating from Smith. After living and working in California, she moved to Madison for a new career opportunity–and never left. In 2002, she got her first taste of campaigning when she volunteered to knock on doors for now-Senator Tammy Baldwin’s House reelection campaign, which she enjoyed doing. Baldwin is something of a hero for Satya, as she was the first openly gay woman elected to Congress, the first woman elected to Congress from the state of Wisconsin, and the first openly gay person elected to the Senate.

Satya became more involved in local politics when a friend running for the Madison city council asked her to manage her campaign, something she had never done before. While her friend didn’t end up winning her election, they ran a campaign they were proud of. Satya’s talent for managing did not go unnoticed, leading her to be recruited by other candidates for office and to becoming more involved in local politics such as the county and school board. Her work on campaigns and local issues in the Madison area put her in touch with city council members, which eventually led to the testimony on affordable housing mentioned earlier.

In 2007, Rhodes-Conway decided she was ready to run for city council when the member in her district was retiring. It was a tough race–there were four candidates running in the non-partisan primary, where she was one of two candidates to advance to the general election. After she won the election and had served on the council for a while, people started asking her to run for mayor. She didn’t want to run at first since she liked the current mayor, but this changed after she decided to step down from her post in 2013 to return to her job as Managing Director of the Mayors Innovation Project, an organization that helps mayors and their advisers “put cities on the high road of equity, sustainability and democracy.” Throughout this time she was continually being asked to run, and finally decided seriously considering it in 2017.

“I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I don’t even know where it is”: Learning on the fly while running an intense campaign

Rhodes-Conway describes her campaign for mayor as even more intense than the one she ran for city council years earlier. She ran a grassroots campaign, making an effort to speak with people all across the city and recruiting volunteers to knock on doors, just as she had for Tammy Baldwin more than fifteen years prior.

Rhodes-Conway won the election in April of this year, with 62% of the vote. Her upbringing to be attentive to issues greatly benefited her in her campaign, which focused on four main issues: affordable housing (not surprisingly), rapid transit, being prepared for climate change, and racial equity. I was particularly interested in her proposed initiatives for climate change, both because it is such an urgent issue and due to her background in science. Before Rhodes-Conway got into office, the city had established a goal of being 100% renewable by 2030, and she is now working to maintain that goal. New initiatives now that she is in office include making a carbon footprint reduction part of community requirements; training apprentices to install solar panels, building more solar city buildings and working with the private sector to fund these projects; and analyzing the impact climate change has had already.

When I asked the mayor what her most important takeaways were from the campaign, she told me, “I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I don’t even know where it is.” For an introvert like Satya, running for political office can be one of the scariest and most energy-draining experiences. She was constantly getting interview requests and had to put herself out there in ways she never had before. But she always stayed focused on why she was running, making sure the campaign was always reflecting what was important to her, and working as hard as possible to produce a campaign that she and her team could be proud of, no matter the outcome.

“I’m just me”: On being a “first” and who inspires her

I asked Mayor Rhodes-Conway to reflect on what it means to her to be the first openly gay mayor of Madison (and one of only a few in the nation), and who her Groundbreakers are. While she certainly recognizes the significance of being the first openly gay mayor of her city (but emphasizing “I’m just me”), what’s more important to her is the significance of that fact to others, particularly LGBTQ members of her community and young LGBTQ people. Seeing themselves represented in political office is extremely important, just as it would be for any minority or historically marginalized group. She also asked the city council to raise the Pride flag in the city for the month of June (Pride Month). The municipal building was also lit up in the traditional rainbow and there was a celebration with rainbow cake. Soon, in a great show of solidarity, the governor of Wisconsin had the flag raised at the state capitol (which also happens to be in Madison).

As for her Groundbreakers, two of them have already been mentioned here: her activist mother and Senator and fellow Smith alum Tammy Baldwin. They helped shape her early political life. Her other Groundbreakers are a group: the women who were in leadership positions at Smith College, something I as a fellow alum also identify with. Just like seeing an openly gay mayor is powerful for LGBTQ youth, seeing women leading organizations is important for women who are developing their voice and sense of self. In short: Representation matters.    

Having the opportunity to speak with Mayor Rhodes-Conway was a great honor for me. Even though she is only my third interview in this project of writing about Groundbreakers of Today, I realize that speaking with these Groundbreakers is as much an opportunity for me to learn as it is to gather information for these blog posts. Hearing the journeys people have taken to where they are today always provides a great deal to think about. What I took away from Satya specifically is the importance of focusing on issues versus individual politicians or even parties in elections. This is a much-needed, refreshing take–particularly in the climate that we are in today, having developed and passionately-held policy positions is going to be extremely important as we approach the 2020 election season, both for president and other offices. Candidates would do well to look to examples set by people like Mayor Rhodes-Conway in how they run their campaigns.

Satya has certainly come a long way from that nervous woman testifying in front of the Madison city council. Though she is a self-admitted introvert, she often had to step outside her comfort zone in order to achieve her goal of being elected to serve her city. And like many other women who feel hesitant about entering the political arena, Satya didn’t see herself ever being elected to office–until she realized she could. I imagine that this is how many of my Groundbreakers–both past and present–may have felt at one time, before they eventually realized that whatever they were fighting for was more important than any fears they may have had. The strength and dedication they all have to what they believe in serves as a continual inspiration to me as I continue this project. 

Underground Groundbreakers of Today #2: Liv Coleman

The 73rd House District of Florida, encompassing Manatee and Sarasota Counties in central Florida, has only had one Democratic representative in the Florida House of Representatives since it was established in 1967. The district elected Donald Trump by 25 points in 2016. Even Democratic residents of the district have barely had any contact with any Democratic candidates or the party itself.

So Liv Coleman knew she was in for an uphill battle when she decided to run as a Democrat to represent the 73rd District in the 2018 midterm elections. Her opponent was Tommy Gregory, a Trump-supporting Republican. Even being aware of all of the strikes against her, she would find that various other factors would make it even more difficult. Despite all of these obstacles, she still ran a campaign that was groundbreaking.

Like many people who ran for office in 2017 and 2018, Liv was motivated to run after Trump’s election and participating in the Women’s March in January 2017. Though she had some experience volunteering for the Democratic Party in the past, Liv didn’t have much experience in campaigning before deciding to run for the House seat. Her background is in education, political science, and East Asian studies, and she is an Associate Professor of Political Science with a focus on Japanese politics at the University of Tampa, as well as the chair of the department. Education has run in her family, and it is such an important issue to her personally and politically that she made it the cornerstone of her platform in her campaign. 

Naming her platform “Make Florida Schools #1,” Liv supported many much-needed improvements to the state’s public school system, including: more funding for higher teacher pay, bringing back public funds that have been diverted to private schools through voucher programs, eliminating high-stakes testing, and tuition-free community and technical college for at least a two-year degree. Making her case even more compelling was the fact that the Manatee County School District is the county’s largest employer. More generally, she ran so that her district would have strong representation for the public good instead of for special interests. These are issues that are (or should be) important to every voter, regardless of party, but unfortunately what should be basic issues beyond debate end up getting politicized in our hyperpartisan system, leaving hardworking people and students in the lurch.

While the Republicans had a number of candidates for the House seat in what became a tough race, Liv was the lone Democrat and had to fight to get any attention at all. At the same time, Tommy Gregory was known to have attended a meet-and-greet hosted by Peter Gemma, a white supremacist who is also involved in the Holocaust denial movement, which was not covered in the press until after there was a lot of public pressure to do so. This is just one example of the lopsided situation in which Liv found herself.

Knowing the odds against her, Liv, along with her assembled campaign team and her political science knowledge, examined the voting data of her district to see where she might make some headway. While the district is certainly heavily Republican, with 50% registered with that party, 25% are registered Democrats, and 25% are not registered with a party–that group, however, tended to lean Republican, as evidenced by the margin of victory Trump had over Hillary Clinton in 2016. The only way for voters to hear Liv’s important ideas was to speak to them directly, both at meet-and-greets and debates–but this, too, would prove to be a struggle. After bringing attention on social media to being excluded from a local discussion forum with Gregory and another Republican candidate, Liv finally got her rightful place in the debate. Her remarks quickly became popular online with people in the community who were similarly frustrated with the political process.

Liv ran her campaign about as cleanly and conscientiously as one could. She was able to outraise even her own expectations, despite being quite outfunded by her opponent. She ran a grassroots campaign on small donations, and accepted no corporate PAC money. She even, surprisingly, received support from Forward Majority Action PAC, a DC-based Super PAC, on the hope that certain Florida suburbs might flip for Democrats in the unstable political climate. She also had a number of important endorsements, including from EMILY’s List and the Planned Parenthood PAC. Liv ran a positive and upbeat campaign, in the spirit of one of her Groundbreaker heroes, the late Senator Paul Wellstone of Minnesota. Growing up in Minnesota, Liv saw how Wellstone fought for everyday people in a positive, grassroots way, which was an important inspiration for her.

Perhaps the starkest demonstration of the hyperpartisan environment in which Liv and many others were running, an issue such as guns, which was a particularly sore one in light of the recent massacre that took place in Parkland, Florida, earlier that year, was kept quiet during this campaign. Even though a poll conducted by the Florida Republican Party revealed that a majority of gun owners were in favor of stronger gun regulations, she was told by so-called “experts” to avoid the issue. She smartly realized that besides being the right thing to do, discussing the issue would also appeal to the suburban moms whose votes she would need to even have a chance. But Gregory was supported by the NRA and seemed to get away with not mentioning it in front of certain audiences.

Liv’s greatest challenge and frustration, besides being a Democrat running in a very red district, was being both a woman and a tenured college professor. While she had no issue calling herself the broader term of “educator,” a local reporter took it too far by calling her a “schoolteacher.” She also heard the all-too-familiar contradictory refrains of “Smile more,” “Smile less,” “Dress up,” “Dress down.” Her youthful look also did not help matters, particularly running in a district with one of the highest populations of people over 65. Despite all these frustrations, Liv did her best to engage with traditionally female-dominated professions, such as teachers and nurses.

On November 6, the results were in, and they weren’t surprising: Gregory won the race with 61.9% of the vote (64,285 votes), while she carried 38.1% (39,614 votes). Even knowing all of the obstacles, this was of course disappointing–but there were reasons for hope. As she puts it, even in a district as red as this one, about 4 out of 10 voters came out for her. Perhaps most interestingly, Liv fared better than both the Democratic candidate for the seat in 2016 and Hillary Clinton in that district. The 2016 House candidate received 34.92% (36,678 votes) in what was a presidential election year, which generally means higher turnout. So for Liv to have performed as she did in a midterm year is actually quite impressive.

What’s more important than the numbers is the groundwork Liv helped lay with her candidacy. She was definitely the underdog, but in many ways that wasn’t the point. What was particularly striking about Liv’s campaign was how the rarity of a Democrat actually running and engaging with people in the district was noticed by the few Democratic voters in the area. In her travels door-to-door in the brutal Florida heat, she heard from people that her campaign was the first contact they’d ever had by a Democratic candidate or the party. So while she was a clear underdog and winning was very difficult, Liv has helped cast a mold for other Democrats who may be inspired to run. She also helped send a message that Republicans should not take certain districts for granted–they may have won this time, but if forward progress continues, there may be closer races in the years ahead.

Speaking with Liv and writing about her experience has forced me to think about my definition of a Groundbreaker. Of course, someone who wins an election despite all the odds, such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, is easy to define as a Groundbreaker. But Liv’s story is more nuanced. Like many candidates across the country, Liv was just a “regular person”–not a career politician, despite being a political scientist!–who was shaken, like many of us, by the election of Donald Trump and wanted to do her part to try to do something about it. She is a Groundbreaker because, though she did not win, to me, hers is an example of how the parts of campaigning that are less spoken about–meeting with people, putting yourself out there despite long odds against you–are just as important as the more obvious ones like raising money. 

Liv hopes that her campaign can be an example to others like her, particularly her students, who want to do something to fight for change in their communities. Her decision to run despite the electoral history and, more importantly, despite the fact that Republicans usually run uncontested in her county, shows both her courage and the strength of her convictions. It also forced a discussion of issues that wouldn’t have happened in a one-candidate race. As she eloquently puts it, “I am drawn to any person, famous or not, who strives to do what is right, even or especially if it comes at significant personal cost.” She was heartened to find such people in her own community, many of whom likely gave her their votes. While her local Democratic Party organizations were critical to the success her campaign did have, the statewide Florida Democratic Party was not particularly helpful to her. The Florida Democratic Party, as well as statewide Democratic Party organizations in other red states, would be wise to look to her example for how to run future campaigns; with some patience and dedication, one day District 73, and others like it, could turn blue. Her fearlessness to run in the face of overwhelming odds should serve as both an inspiration and a call to action to others who feel outraged at our current system. Her experience shows me that it is worth fighting for what’s right, even if progress doesn’t happen as quickly as we hope. 

If you would like to learn more about Liv, you can follow her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/LivColemanFL/) and Twitter (https://twitter.com/LivColemanFL).

Underground Groundbreakers of Today #1: Virginia (Vigie) Ramos Rios

NOTE: After taking a hiatus for a while to decide the best direction for Underground Groundbreakers, I have decided to shift the focus from historical figures to people doing great work today. I explain further in my post below, but I’m very excited about this new direction and the opportunity to speak with people doing work that’s making a difference. Please enjoy!

By now, you likely have heard of rising star and youngest woman ever elected to Congress, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. She has taken the political world by storm first for defeating the powerful long-term incumbent Joseph Crowley, the “party boss” of Queens, and now for giving an inside look at Congress to people who were never interested in politics before through social media.

She didn’t win her campaign alone, of course. She had an entire campaign behind her, as is seen in the recent Netflix documentary Knock Down the House, a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at four progressive women candidates during the 2018 midterm elections. Campaigns like these would not be possible without a strong support system.

I was inspired to take this direction with my blog by watching the inspiring women in Knock Down the House. To have the woman behind the scenes of one of the most important campaigns of recent times be my first profile has been a great honor. She is a great inspiration to anyone who supports progressive policies and candidates, and isn’t afraid of the inevitable challenges of getting them across the finish line. Even though only one of the candidates profiled in the film ended up winning (Ocasio-Cortez), the film offers a vision of what it would be like to have a coalition of progressives from all parts of the country represented in Congress, from the poorest parts of New York City (Ocasio-Cortez) and St. Louis (Cori Bush), to the mining towns of West Virginia (Paula Jean Swearengin), to the area around Las Vegas (Amy Vilela).

I recently had the great privilege of speaking to Virginia (Vigie) Ramos Rios, who managed Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s wildly successful campaign for Congress in 2018. You may not have heard her name before, but she was instrumental in Ocasio-Cortez’s victory in the primary over incumbent Joseph Crowley in June and in the general election in November. To say that hearing Vigie’s story first-hand, starting with her journey working on Bernie Sanders’ 2016 campaign, to managing a campaign for the New York City Council, to eventually managing Rep. Ocasio-Cortez to victory was an inspiration, would be a massive understatement. I am thrilled to be sharing her story and hope that others, whether hopeful candidates or budding managers, can be motivated by her example. [She also happens to be a fellow alum of my alma mater, Smith College!]

Vigie’s path from barely knowing anything about this senator from Vermont to managing arguably the most revolutionary campaign of the 2018 election is fascinating to say the least. While Vigie told me more when we spoke on the phone than I could ever cover here, I will do my best to convey her journey and her amazing accomplishments the way I heard them.

“I didn’t know there were so many of us”: Working on the Bernie Sanders Campaign

You could say, on paper at least, Vigie’s journey to managing AOC’s successful campaign began when she started volunteering for Bernie Sanders’ presidential campaign in 2015. But that leaves out an important part of the story, one that gives a deeper view of why she believes so strongly in and works so hard for the progressive cause. In 2013, Vigie was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS), an illness more common today than in years past but still not widely known. I first learned about the CFS as a fan of Golden Girls, in an episode where Bea Arthur’s character, Dorothy, struggles with the illness. As its name suggests, the illness leaves people constantly exhausted for seemingly no reason. Besides greatly affecting her physically, having this illness left Vigie in dire straits financially, eventually leading her to declare bankruptcy. It was this experience, unfortunately shared by many across this country, that drove Vigie to work for real progressive change, particularly in our deeply flawed healthcare system.

Vigie actually heard about Bernie Sanders from, as she put it, her “Baby Boomer mom.” After reading about his platform, which of course included revamping the country’s healthcare system to a Medicare for All model, Vigie felt inspired and looked into volunteering. She eventually came on as a volunteer to collect signatures so that Sanders would appear on the ballot in the Democratic primary. This effort was made difficult by the fact that they could only begin collecting signatures in December 2015, AKA the heart of winter, and there weren’t as many people to ask in Queens as there were in Brooklyn and Manhattan. Add this to the fact that Vigie was still dealing with her chronic fatigue, and this effort alone is admirable.

Working on the Sanders campaign gave Vigie a great deal of experience that would prove invaluable for her later work. She worked with a fundraiser, and, perhaps most importantly, learned from a lawyer how to clean up signatures on petitions–the key to any campaign, particularly a fledgling one. During this time, she also ran the Flushing, Queens office of the campaign.

It was when she was sent to California to work on the campaign that Vigie grasped how meaningful the Bernie Sanders campaign had become throughout the country. She worked tirelessly in two California congressional districts, which are huge geographical areas. They also included some of the reddest parts of one of the bluest states in America, ranged from urban to rural, and included some of the worst air quailty in the state. While all of this may seem like it would have been a challenge, Vigie found fellow progressives among them. At a rally in Bakersfield, north of Los Angeles, surrounded by so many like-minded people, she heard people all saying the same thing: “I didn’t know there were so many of us.”

“This was just the beginning”: Becoming a Campaign Manager

Bernie Sanders did not end up winning the Democratic primary, but Vigie felt no less inspired in her work for progressive change. She knew the excitement she had seen both in New York and California was just the beginning of a movement. After the campaign, she worked for an organization for activists, and ended up becoming campaign manager for Jabari Brisport, a Brooklyn activist running for the New York City Council in 2017. She had met Brisport while running the Flushing office during the Sanders campaign. While the campaign did not result in a win, it was successful in that Brisport became the first Green Party/Socialist candidate since the 1930s to win a significant percentage of the vote, 30%. This was Vigie’s first experience as a campaign manager, and the work greatly excited and inspired her. It turned out that it would be just the beginning of her journey managing campaigns.

It is almost hard to remember a time when Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was not very well known, both in mainstream media and particular in the social media universe. But in 2017 she was almost completely unheard of, except by those who worked with organizations such as the Justice Democrats and Brand New Congress, and local Democratic Socialist groups (Vigie would organize the Queens branch of the DSA in 2018). Vigie saw Ocasio-Cortez speak at a Medicare for All rally in 2017, and thought she had real appeal and potential. She gave AOC her information, but actually did not get asked to become her campaign manager until February 2018, when the campaign was really in motion.

When Vigie came on board, however, she found she had her work cut out for her. They had no lawyer to check and clean up petition signatures and no print shop for flyers–all with two weeks before the campaign would kick into high gear. Fortunately Vigie’s experience with the Sanders campaign proved extremely valuable: she found a friend of the lawyer she had met during her time with Bernie to help clean up their signatures, and found a union/small business print shop in Queens to use instead of the DNC’s in Boston.

The Primary and Beyond: “We won, now the real work begins”

Vigie and the rest of the campaign worked nonstop all the way up to June 26, 2018, the day of the primary. As the campaign and many of her supporters knew, they were facing an uphill battle: not only was her opponent, Joseph Crowley, the fourth-ranking Democrat in the House, he was also the chair of the Queens Democratic Party. Even her most ardent supporters worried that Crowley was just too tough of an opponent, but that did not stop anyone’s enthusiasm or willingness to work hard. The issues Ocasio-Cortez was fighting for were too important to succumb to defeatism.

With Vigie running things, however, the campaign really came together. When June 26 came, they remained as optimistic as possible. Like a good and smart manager should, Vigie made sure that people were able to vote right up to when the polls closed at 9 that night. This was not only the right thing to do, but it was in an effort to make sure that as many people voted as possible, and if Ocasio-Cortez were to win, that the vote totals and margins would be as big as possible.

And, of course, to the surprise of many, particularly those in media who had barely heard of her, she won–and not by a little. She received 57% of the vote (almost 16,000 votes), while Crowley received 42% (almost 12,000 votes)–a margin of 15%. This was earth-shattering, to say the least. Crowley and his followers clearly assumed that a primary challenger, particularly someone as unknown as Ocasio-Cortez, would be easily beat simply by Crowley’s usual supporters in the district showing up. What they didn’t account for was the number of people both in the Bronx and Queens who met Ocasio-Cortez and were energized by her platform and what she stood for. The constant knocking on doors and boots on the ground made all of the difference in her victory.

Things didn’t slow down once Ocasio-Cortez won the primary–on the contrary, they got even busier. The campaign become inundated with press and media requests. The months between the primary in June and the general election in November were just as much work, if not more, than what had come before. The day of the general election, November 6, Ocasio-Cortez won 78% of the vote, with more than 110,000 votes. While it is true that the primary was more consequential in this case because of the level of the person she defeated, Vigie points out that getting over 100,000 in this district was quite an achievement in itself.  

What’s Next? Looking to the Future + the “Unsung Heroes”

Now that the successful Ocasio-Cortez campaign is over and she is making waves in office, what is Vigie up to now? Currently, she does speaking engagements for the Party of European Socialists. She also serves as an adviser to Tiffany Cabán, who is running to be the next Queens District Attorney.

After hearing Vigie’s remarkable and inspiring story, I was eager to hear who motivates her. I was expecting to her to list names of leaders of important movements that came before us, but her answer was actually even better than that. First, she named her parents: her mom taught her the importance of knowing what’s happening in your community, and her dad organized throughout the world. But then she said that she is more inspired by the countless names we never learn, the “unsung heroes.” For me, and for this ongoing project of shining the spotlight on people whose name most people might not know, Vigie’s answer was simply perfect. She encapsulates what I envision in an Underground Groundbreaker, and I don’t exaggerate when I say she is the ideal person to be my first profile of people doing great, important work today.

Always a Groundbreaker at Heart: Frank Robinson, 1935-2019

Lovers of baseball, particularly ones of a certain age, were saddened on Thursday to learn of the passing of Hall of Famer and manager Frank Robinson. Since I myself am *only* a mere 28 going on 29, my sole memories of Robinson are of him as the feisty and no-nonsense manager of the Montreal Expos/current Washington Nationals. But I remember hearing as a young baseball fan how he was the first (and as of now, still the only) player to win the Most Valuable Player (MVP) award in both the National and American Leagues. I later learned that he was the first black man to become a manager in the Major Leagues–so while he was not related to Jackie Robinson, the first black player in MLB, he was a groundbreaker in his own right.

This post is somewhat different from my usual posts, as Robinson did receive many of the accolades he so rightly deserved for his abilities during his lifetime, including the two MVP awards, becoming the first black manager, and being elected to the Hall of Fame the first year he was eligible (see stats here if you are interested in learning more). So in that sense, Robinson by definition does not fall into my criteria for an Underground Groundbreaker–fortunately for all of us who love the game, there are still many ex-players and fans out there who remember him well, as well as plenty of videos, photographs, etc. At the same time, however, and judging by the condolences that have been pouring in, in his own quiet way he too was a Groundbreaker.

In my posts on Negro Leaguer Josh Gibson and Negro Leaguer turned MLB coach Buck O’Neil, I provide some history on the Negro Leagues and how, even though there were plenty of players who did make it to the Major Leagues, they were something of a treasure trove of players who would never play on a Major League field. It’s a tragedy that we likely will never know about some of these players and how skilled they were. Jackie Robinson, of course, was the first player from the Negro Leagues to be brought up to the Major Leagues, and many stars such as Willie Mays and Hank Aaron followed in later years.

Born relatively late in 1935, Frank Robinson did not play in the Negro Leagues at all; as Michael Bauman explains, “Robinson was part of the first generation of African American players to be developed entirely within the Major League Baseball pipeline, rather than coming up through the Negro Leagues as his contemporaries […] did.” In this sense, while Robinson surely experienced discrimination just as any Negro League player would have, not having that experience that some of his fellow players did was certainly a difference. He was part of the first group of black players to be accepted, at least officially, by the Major Leagues. So from the outset, he was already something of a groundbreaker.

One story about Robinson really told me exactly what I needed to know about him and his quiet fierceness. An article by Mike Klingaman in The Baltimore Sun from 2016 told the little-known story about Robinson’s struggle to find a house when he was traded to the Baltimore Orioles from the Cincinnati Reds in 1966. He and his wife were repeatedly rejected from all-white neighborhoods in the city despite their residents being fans of their baseball team’s newest player. In a telling moment, according to the article, in one neighborhood “15 white kids recognized Frank and swarmed around” and Robinson “gave all of them autographs.” Kids often have more wisdom than adults give them credit for.

In that same article, Robinson, at age 80, was asked about his experience during that time. He said:

“I didn’t ever want to set African-Americans backwards and have people say, ‘See, I told you so.’ That was my thinking,'” he said. “I didn’t have a torch and I stayed out of politics. I wasn’t out there to change laws. I really admired the people fighting for changes, but my job was to play baseball.”

His story did have a happy ending, though. With some help from the team’s ownership, he and his family did eventually settle in a Baltimore neighborhood that was more integrated than other sections of the city at the time. His neighbors became good friends, and when the Orioles won the World Series that year, he made a special effort to celebrate with them. The neighbors also temporarily had his street named for him during the World Series, which everyone, black and white, was excited about.

So in this sense, while Frank Robinson was not the same type of iconic figure as Jackie Robinson, who faced horrific racism during his career, he was certainly not spared from it either. And, despite all of this distraction in his first year in Baltimore, he still managed to win the Triple Crown that year and help win the World Series for his team. How he handled all of that while dealing with the turmoil in his personal life is quite admirable.

Robinson was especially a groundbreaker in that he became the first black manager in the Major Leagues–and not just a manager, a player-manager. Jackie Robinson had advocated for MLB to hire black managers. Unfortunately, he didn’t live to see this happen. But when Frank was hired to manage the Cleveland Indians in 1975, he was honored that Jackie’s widow, Rachel, was in attendance for his first game and threw the first pitch (fun fact: Frank hit a home run that day that ended up winning the game for his new team).

Robinson recognized the gravity of becoming the first black man to manage a Major League baseball team. In an interview with the Baseball Hall of Fame, Robinson explained how while he was hesitant about accepting the job, he knew that if someone as qualified as he didn’t do it, the opportunity might not have presented itself again for quite a while. So while he wasn’t out in the streets fighting for racial equality, he was doing so in his own way in the sport he loved.

In 1981, Robinson was named the manager of the San Francisco Giants, making him the first black manager in the National League–yet another groundbreaking moment in a career full of them.

At the end of his Hall of Fame induction speech, Robinson made a statement that I believe finely encapsulates who he was a baseball player and a man. He thanked all of the black players who paved the way for players like him. He spoke directly to Rachel Robinson, who was in the audience, expressing his belief that if Jackie had not made the sacrifice of being the first, that the door may have been closed off to others for years–similar to his feelings about becoming the first black manager. This got me thinking–surely if it hadn’t happened in 1947 as it did with Jackie, it would have happened eventually, right? But knowing the history of this country, and what Frank had to deal with just to find a damn house, it did make me think twice.

Though I was not born early enough to have seen Frank Robinson play, I’ve greatly enjoyed learning more about the player and, more importantly, the man. While he was known to have some ‘tude particularly in his later years as a manager, his intensity was only due to his great respect for the game he was involved with his entire life. I am glad that he received the recognition he was due in his lifetime. And while he was not a trailblazer or civil rights activist in the same way as Jackie Robinson, I will also always think of him as a Groundbreaker at heart in his own quiet way.

Sources & Further Reading:

Michael Baumann, “Remembering Frank Robinson, a Trailblazing Baseball Titan.” The Ringer. https://www.theringer.com/mlb/2019/2/7/18216306/frank-robinson-obituary-hall-of-fame-orioles

Mike Klingaman, “Fifty years ago, Frank Robinson’s search for housing in Baltimore helped in ‘opening the door for others.'” The Baltimore Sun. https://www.baltimoresun.com/sports/orioles/bs-sp-frank-robinson-housing-0124-20160122-story.html

Mike Peticca, “Frank Robinson’s debut as Cleveland Indians player-manager was historic.” Cleveland Plain Dealer. https://www.cleveland.com/tribe/index.ssf/2017/05/frank_robinsons_debut_as_a_pla_1.html

Frank Robinson entry on Baseball Hall of Fame website: https://baseballhall.org/hall-of-famers/robinson-frank

Maxwell Kates, “Frank Robinson.” Society for American Baseball Research (SABR). https://sabr.org/bioproj/person/c3ac5482

[Image from Baseball Hall of Fame announcement of Frank Robinson’s death: https://baseballhall.org/discover/robinson-left-mark-on-and-off-the-field%5D

Groundbreaker #10: Shirley Chisholm

“I am not the candidate of black America, although I am black and proud. I am not the candidate of the woman’s movement of this country, although I am a woman and equally proud of that. I am the candidate of the people and my presence before you symbolizes a new era in American political history.”

–Presidential announcement, 1972

If you’ve been following the news this election cycle, or read my recent post on some of the women who were recently elected to Congress, then you know that more women of color than ever are now headed to Capitol Hill this January.

But you may not have heard of (or only recently heard of) the first black woman elected to Congress: Shirley Chisholm. She was in Congress from 1969 to 1983, but her boldness is still having an impact today. Fortunately she is already somewhat known and is getting even more of the recognition she deserves lately (more on that later), but I still consider her an Underground Groundbreaker because she is not as much of a household name as she should be. And we could all stand to learn from her example even in 2018 and beyond.

Shirley Anita St. Hill Chisholm was born in Brooklyn in 1924. Her parents were born in the Caribbean, where Shirley would live for part of her childhood. She and her sisters lived on her grandmother’s farm in Barbados beginning when Shirley was five, getting their education at a one-room schoolhouse. She returned to New York when she was ten, in 1934. She would credit the education she received in Barbados for her ability to write and speak well, and considered herself a Barbadian American throughout her life.

After graduating from Girls’ High School in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, Shirley received her bachelor’s degree from Brooklyn College in 1946. She married Conrad O. Chisholm, an immigrant from Jamaica, in 1949. She would go on to earn a master’s degree in elementary education from Teachers College, Columbia University in 1952. After leaving school, she held various positions in early childhood education in Brooklyn and Manhattan, including running day care centers. In the late 1950s and 1960s, she got involved in local politics, including the League of Women Voters. Most of the organizations she volunteered with were mainly run by whites.

Chisholm’s first elected position was as a member of the New York State Assembly from 1965-68. She quickly established herself as a strong legislator, including fighting the English requirement for the state’s literacy test (yes, New York State and City both have quite a history of voter suppression tactics!). Her other accomplishments included expanding unemployment benefits to include domestic workers (of which her mother was one); fighting for black representation on Assembly committees; and the establishment of a program to help underprivileged students receive the remedial education they needed while also being able to attend college.

After her time in the Assembly, Chisholm decided to make a run for Congress in 1968. Using the slogan which would forever describe her (and is the title of her autobiography), “Unbought and Unbossed,” she became the first black woman elected to Congress, as well as the first black representative from Brooklyn. She would go on to be reelected six times and have a very productive career as a representative.

Once in Congress, Chisholm was both innovative and strategic. After being assigned to the House Agricultural Committee, which seemed rather useless to a representative from the nation’s biggest city, Chisholm eventually used the position to help expand the food stamp program, and help create the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants and Children, also known as WIC, which still exists today. In perhaps a controversial move, Chisholm voted for Hale Boggs, a Southern Democrat, over the legendary civil rights leader John Conyers, to be House Majority Leader. She did this in order to gain a seat on the Education and Labor Committee, where she had wanted to be all along. She did not waste this opportunity, eventually becoming the third highest-ranking member of the committee.

In another controversial but arguably shrewd move, in 1972 Chisholm visited George Wallace, the racist, segregationist governor of Alabama who was running for president at the time, in the hospital after an assassination attempt. She used the goodwill from this visit two years later to gain Southern support for her bill to give domestic workers the right to earn minimum wage; Wallace lobbied the required number of Southern congressmen to help the bill pass.

By the time she retired from Congress in 1982 to take care of her second husband who had been injured in a car accident (she and her first husband divorced in 1977, though she kept his name), Chisholm had amassed an impressive resume of accomplishments. In addition to those mentioned above, she served as Secretary of the House Democratic Caucus and was a founding member of both the Congressional Black Caucus and National Women’s Political Caucus in 1971. She was an ardent supporter of the Equal Rights Amendment and women’s rights. She also was a supporter of increased spending on education and health care, particularly for the poor in cities like New York. She also fought to reduce spending on the military and opposed the draft, and was an outspoken critic of the Vietnam War and the development of weapons.

Additionally, Chisholm, being the first black woman elected to Congress, had the great opportunity to set an example for hiring staff. Women made up Chisholm’s entire staff, half of whom were black. This was an important move, as Chisholm personally felt more discriminated against as a woman than as a black person.

In a bold political move, Chisholm decided to run for president in 1972. Though she did not become the nominee, her candidacy was historic in that she was the first black candidate of a major party to run, and the first woman to run for the Democratic nomination. The odds were stacked against her; her campaign was underfunded and she wasn’t taken seriously by the Democratic party as well as black male politicians. As she stated earlier in her career, her being female was more of an obstacle than being black; sexism trumped racism. While she struggled to get access to the ballot in many states, she had a diverse group of supporters. She resented not being taken seriously and being treated only as a symbolic candidate.

Post-retirement, Chisholm continued to remain active throughout the rest of her life. She taught and spoke at colleges, encouraged minorities to be politically active, and was active in various presidential campaigns. She died in 2005 at age 80 in Florida after a series of strokes. Her grave includes her famous motto: “Unbought and Unbossed.”

Fortunately for all of us, particularly those who support the progressive movement, Chisholm’s legacy has hardly been forgotten since her death. In addition to books written and documentaries made about her, Chisholm was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian award in the United States, by President Obama in 2015. Although it is a shame that she did not receive the medal during her lifetime, there is hardly anyone more deserving than she of such an award; it is particularly symbolic that it was awarded by the first black president.

Chisholm has also begun to receive more attention recently, particularly in her home city. Earlier this week, First Lady of New York City Chirlane McCray, also a black woman, announced that a statue of Chisholm will be placed at an entrance to Prospect Park in Brooklyn. There is a grave shortage of statues of women in the city (which McCray is trying to fix with her She Built NYC initiative), so this is welcome news. She will also have a park named after her along Jamaica Bay in Brooklyn, which will be the largest state park in the city. And perhaps most exciting, she will be played by star actress Viola Davis in a movie about her life, called The Fighting Shirley ChisholmThese are all really exciting developments that will surely keep Chisholm’s name in the public discourse for years to come.

Though times (and politics) have certainly changed since Chisholm was in Congress, and even since her death almost fourteen years ago, her life and career should be more well known than it is and especially be a model to learn from for young women and aspiring politicians, particularly progressive ones, but for anyone who believes in getting things done for their constituents, not representing moneyed interests. Rejecting corporate money is becoming more mainstream, but has been slow to gain traction since it is so entrenched in our political system. Chisholm, even when seemingly making friends with the enemy, only used those relationships to help the people who elected her. I hope that the women, particularly those of color, who are about to start their terms in just a few weeks, remember her example when navigating their way through the halls of Congress. It’s certainly still not easy being a woman or a person of color (or both) in our society or especially our political system, but the boldness and courage of Shirley Chisholm should remind us all, and those elected, to never forget who, and most importantly, what values, you represent.     

Learn more about this Groundbreaker!

If you have found what I’ve written about Shirley Chisholm interesting and/or inspiring and are curious about learning more, I would encourage you to look into some of the articles, websites and videos I’ve included below and in the course of my post. This is hardly an exhaustive list, but will definitely lead you to other sources.

Chisholm’s autobiograhy, Unbought and Unbossed: https://amzn.to/2KOS9m7

1974 documentary on Chisholm: https://amzn.to/2KNzoPO

Wiki bio: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirley_Chisholm

House bio: https://history.house.gov/People/Detail/10918

Profile from National Women’s History Museum: https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/shirley-chisholm

Profile from Equality Archive: http://equalityarchive.com/history/the-first-black-woman-presidential-candidate/

Article from Smithsonian Magazine: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/unbought-and-unbossed-when-black-woman-ran-for-the-white-house-180958699/

Gothamist article on Chisholm statue: http://gothamist.com/2018/11/30/shirley_chisholm_statue_nyc.php?utm_source=WNYC+%2B+Gothamist&utm_campaign=9e74c67e4f-RSS_EMAIL_CAMPAIGN&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_65dbec786b-9e74c67e4f-85709165&mc_cid=9e74c67e4f&mc_eid=811492602c

JSTOR article on the importance of Chisholm’s presidential campaign: https://daily.jstor.org/the-significanc-of-shirley-chisholms-presidential-campaign/

NYTimes obituary: https://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/03/obituaries/shirley-chisholm-unbossedpioneer-in-congress-is-dead-at-80.html

[Image from: http://www.pbs.org/the-contenders/people/shirley-chisholm/%5D

 

 

Groundbreaker #9: Buck O’Neil

“People say baseball’s dead. Baseball doesn’t die. People die. Baseball lives on.”

Continuing my baseball theme of this blog started with Josh Gibson, today I’ll be exploring the life and career of Buck O’Neil, another Negro League-era player. Unlike Gibson, however, he had the distinction of becoming the first black coach in Major League Baseball.

Buck O’Neil, born John Jordan O’Neil in 1911 in the Florida Panhandle, grew up surrounded by racism and discrimination, which he would experience throughout his life. Because segregated Florida only had four high schools just for black students at the time, O’Neil wasn’t able to attend school. But he was soon able to attend a college in Jacksonville after working in a celery field with his father, where he lived with relatives and finished high school and two years of college credits.  

After his time in college, O’Neil started playing baseball semi-professionally in 1934 and barnstormed playing in interracial exhibition games.” He was soon discovered and in 1937 signed with the Memphis Red Sox, a newly established team in the newly established Negro American League. In 1938, his contract was sold to the Kansas City Monarchs in the Negro National League.

O’Neil had a respectable career as a first baseman in the Negro Leagues when he had the opportunity to play, with a lifetime average of .283. He couldn’t play from 1943-45 because he was serving in the Navy in World War II. He was also part of the Monarchs World Series championship team in 1942. He played regularly until 1951, but also served as manager of the Monarchs from 1948 to 1955. Under his leadership, the team won two league titles, but unfortunately the League was on its last legs due to the exodus of black players into the Major Leagues. [For more background on the Negro Leagues, be sure to check out my earlier post on Josh Gibson.]

After the 1955 season, the owner of the Monarchs sold the team. O’Neil resigned as manager of the team and was hired as a scout for the Chicago Cubs in the major leagues, where he signed another black player and future Hall of Famer, outfielder Lou Brock. O’Neil was tasked with finding talent in black high schools and colleges throughout the country (see Kansas City Star article).

In 1962, O’Neil made history by being named the first black coach in the major leagues by the Cubs. He had been an unofficial coach, but the Cubs officially named him a coach because many umpires didn’t approve of his being in the dugout.While this was a major accomplishment, it was dampened somewhat by the fact that he was not a base coach during games and not part of the Cubs’ “College of Coaches” system, which rotated a few men through the role of manager. [The first black manager, Hall of Famer Frank Robinson, would not be hired until 1975.] At first O’Neil did not recognize the significance of his being the first black coach, but later understood when he saw his name in the papers throughout the country. Despite this, he acknowledged that “progress in organized baseball was painfully slow” and “still is” (see Kansas City Star article). O’Neil stayed with the Cubs until the 1980s, when he took a scouting job for the Kansas City Royals in 1988, and awarded the title of “Midwest Scout of the Year” in 1998.

It was perhaps his post-playing/coaching/scouting career where O’Neil made the biggest impact on baseball history. After sitting for interviews describing the Negro Leagues for Ken Burns’ 1994 PBS documentary Baseball, O’Neil was one of the leaders in opening the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum (NLBM) in Kansas City. He was the honorary board chairman of the museum until his death in 2006. O’Neil was also part of the 18-member Baseball Hall of Fame Veterans Committee from 1981 to 2000, helping six Negro League players to be elected to the Hall. Sadly O’Neil himself was never inducted, despite being nominated to a special ballot that honored Negro League players, managers, and executives in 2006, but he spoke at the induction ceremony for those Negro League players who were elected in July of that year.

O’Neil died at the age of 94 in August of 2006 of heart failure and bone marrow cancer. He has received many posthumous awards including the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President George W. Bush in December 2006. The Baseball Hall of Fame awarded him with a Lifetime Achievement Award in 2007, an award that would be named after him. The Buck O’Neil Lifetime Achievement Award will be given once every three years “to honor an individual who enhances baseball’s positive image on society, who broadens the game’s appeal, and whose integrity and dignity are comparable to the namesake of the award” (see Baseball Hall of Fame website). So far it has only been presented to three other people besides O’Neil himself: longtime baseball executive Roland Hemond, catcher and announcer Joe Garagiola, and Rachel Robinson, widow of Jackie Robinson.

At the end of his life, Buck O’Neil easily could have been bitter about the many missed opportunities in his life: the segregation of his childhood preventing him from going to a local high school; never getting to play in the Major Leagues; being named a Major League coach but not having that mean much; and not being inducted into the Hall of Fame even though he was on the committee that chose the inductees. But until the end of his long life, O’Neil was everything but bitter; he was charming and entertaining and always seemed happy, as he did at the 2006 Hall of Fame ceremony.

One touching story about O’Neil’s life was the friendship he developed late in life with Japanese superstar Ichiro Suzuki. Ichiro, who was a star in Japan and came to the Major Leagues in 2001, love learning about baseball history. He visited the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City when his team, the Seattle Mariners, were in town playing the Royals. After O’Neil died, Ichiro sent a donation to the museum in memory of him (see ESPN article). This friendship shows O’Neil’s undying openness and kindness towards younger players through all stages of his life.

As a baseball fan I had heard Buck O’Neil’s name in passing, but never knew much about him until I started researching for this post. While it is clear that O’Neil wasn’t outwardly resentful about the way his life went, it seems to me that baseball as a whole didn’t give him the treatment and recognition he deserved. He may not have deserved to be in the Hall of Fame purely on the strength of his numbers, but surely his many other contributions to the game would warrant him an honorary spot somewhere. As a walking encyclopedia of baseball and particularly the Negro Leagues, it is a real shame and a missed opportunity that his knowledge wasn’t appreciated and honored more. He did a good job on his own by helping open the museum and helping elect former Negro Leaguers into the Hall (even though he wasn’t chosen himself), and by appearing on Ken Burns’ documentary, but this seems like a bare minimum.

Although baseball is more diverse than it was during most of O’Neil’s lifetime, as time goes on both players and fans will know less and less about pioneers like O’Neil who helped make the game what it is today. I just hope there are others out there who thought to record some of his stories so they are not lost to time.

Learn more about this Groundbreaker!

If you have found what I’ve written about Buck O’Neil and the history of African Americans in baseball interesting and/or infuriating and are curious about learning more, I would encourage you to look into some of the articles and websites and videos I’ve included below and in the course of my post. This is hardly an exhaustive list, but will definitely lead you to other sources.

Wiki bio: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buck_O’Neil

Stats on Baseball Reference: https://www.baseball-reference.com/register/player.fcgi?id=oneil-000buc

Robert Bluestein, “The 20 Most Obscure ‘Firsts’ in Baseball”: https://bleacherreport.com/articles/1411064-the-20-most-obscure-firsts-in-baseball#slide15

Rustin Dodd, “Buck O’Neil and the Cubs: Kansas City icon left a legacy in Chicago”: https://www.kansascity.com/sports/mlb/kansas-city-royals/article110949822.html

Buck O’Neil Award, Baseball Hall of Fame: https://baseballhall.org/discover-more/awards/890

http://www.sportingnews.com/us/mlb/news/why-buck-oneil-still-doesnt-have-a-baseball-hall-of-fame-plaque/qi0c30oiqfa71ooi69ooazme2

https://www.theroot.com/quote-of-the-day-buck-o-neil-on-love-1790874584

More on Ichiro: http://www.espn.com/espn/feature/story/_/id/22624561/ichiro-suzuki-return-seattle-mariners-resolve-internal-battle

Joe Posnanski, The Soul of Baseball: A Road Trip Through Buck O’Neil’s America: https://amzn.to/2R85rw1

Buck O’Neil’s autobiography, I Was Right On Time: https://amzn.to/2r1VuVG

O’Neil’s speech at Baseball Hall of Fame induction ceremony in 2006: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtE2I6jsung