In a little more than 24 hours, the polls will open in Atlanta, and if pundits and political observers are correct, a record number of local voters will pour in. I must admit, I’ll sigh a deep exhale of relief on Tuesday night. Win, lose or draw, I’ll simply be glad that this election is over.
Atlanta, like many southern cities, enjoys a culture marked by “polite society.” Even in the most trying of times, we put forth a façade that is civil and courteous, one where warped-wishes and cynical sentiments come gift wrapped in sucrose and charm. One could argue the virtues of “keeping it real” versus “biting thy tongue” but that is a discourse for another day. Today, I simply stare at my calendar longing for the clock to run out on some of the most vitriolic, divisive speech I’ve ever heard uttered in an Atlanta election.
Over the past few months, I’ve sat in various rooms with varying members of the electorate. I’ve heard conversations about the importance of “keeping Atlanta black” and the perils of gentrification and displacement in “the A.” I’ve also heard impassioned speeches about how 44 years of black leadership has created one of the biggest wealth gaps in America, where a child born poor in the city that is home to the 3rd largest number of Fortune 500 companies, only has a 4% chance of escaping poverty.
It is, without question, a strange time in Atlanta- a time when we must reconcile the success of those who came before us, and the despair of those our ascension left behind. If any institution or organization can have an infancy, then surely it must also undergo adolescent, pubescent, and pre-teen years on its path to maturation. As I sit as an observer from the sidelines, I offer that Atlanta is squarely in its tween years, grappling and vacillating between the young, idealistic being that it once was and the wiser, more disciplined being that it must become.
This notion of adolescence is what brings me to my point and the reason why I sit typing on my laptop rather that joining my friends in search of the bottom of bottomless mimosas on this first-December edition of Sunday Funday- our tweens.
Let me begin by first unapologetically admitting an unpopular truth, in the race for Atlanta mayor, race absolutely matters. That is not just my opinion, a cursory glance finds most of our electorate lining up in accordance with one thing—race. White Atlantans are generally with white candidate Mary Norwood and black voters are generally with black candidate Keisha Lance Bottoms. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, and both sides of the electorate have welcomed and warmly embraced defectors from the other side.
What strikes me as strange though, is that in the face of the numbers (which never lie) race is a conversation that we in Atlanta, the birthplace of American civil rights and the city that is too busy to hate, are too afraid to have.
There has been so much coded language- polite language- around the various reasons we are supporting one candidate over the other, but we have not, in public view, been willing to discuss race’s real role in this election and why it matters.
So, I’ll go.
I’m a supporter of Keisha Lance Bottoms because she is a black woman that black girls need to see. In a city where the black female mystique has been rewritten to be hallmarked by dancers, reality stars, and vixens, I believe that our next generation of black women leaders desperately need a new hometown sheroe. I’ve previously gone on record about my beliefs on how modern media’s depiction of black women impacts Atlanta and so I won’t delve into that here. But what I will say, as someone who runs a nonprofit that aims to empower middle school girls and as someone who also has the privilege of guiding black, female collegiate minds, is that representation matters.
What our girls see as powerful and successful and strong shows up in the lives of 9 and 10 year-old girls who are already begging to wear lace-fronts and weaves so that their hair flows down their spine in order that they might feel pretty. It shows up in the lives of high school girls who drape body-con dresses over bodies that have not yet had time to fully form. It shows up in the lives of young women who contemplate leaving the long path to success by higher education in favor of the shorter path to social media fame and insta-stardom. The examples that are being fed to young black girls are showing up all throughout their lives, and so the urgent time for us to show up with new examples of successful black womanhood is now.
The opportunity to have a black, female mayor who is young, attractive, talented and bright is not one that the city, which is also home to one of the largest populations of black girls being trafficked in prostitution and child sex trafficking rings, should so easily snub. Black girls in Atlanta need a superwoman that they can see and believe in, and I believe Keisha as mayor is that superwoman.
This isn’t just my theory. The receipts speak for themselves. A Shirley Chisholm unleashes the imagination of a young Maxine Waters. An Angela Davis liberates the audacity of a young Angela Rye. A Michelle Obama ignites the activism of a young Marley Dias. A Shirley Franklin breaks the ceiling for a young Keisha Lance Bottoms. And there is now an entire generation of young black girls waiting on a courageous black woman like Keisha to show them who they can be.
Every chance I get, I tell our girls that they are smart, capable, powerful and strong. I tell them that they should fearlessly pursue their dreams and that they can be anything their minds can conceive. I believe that. But more importantly, I want them to believe that. I hope that when the time comes for them to endeavor to take their place in life, that it will not be me, or any other woman who looks like them, that stands in their way. Keisha has done all of the things that we ask our children to do. She went to school. She earned good grades. She went to college. She graduated law school. She became a judge. She somehow managed to have a family and balance her professional life with her home life of being a wife and doting mother to one precious little black girl and three brilliant black boys. She attends church on Sunday. She serves her community and now she has raised her hand and offered to serve our city. Keisha is not perfect, but she is black girl magic—the kind of black girl magic that our girls need to see more of.
So yes. As Atlanta prepares to turn a page in history, we know that the new mayor will be a woman. I hope that she will be a black woman, because race does matter. Representation does matter. Our girls do matter. And that is what matters most to me.
On December 5th, every Atlantan should vote his/her conscious. My black girl consciousness hopes that that vote will be for Keisha.