Archives for category: Racism

I have known Jamaal Bowman as an enlightened educator and a fighter for social justice. Right now, he is running for Congress against a senior Democrat, Elliot Engel. Engel is a 16-term member of Congress and chair of the Foreign Affairs Committee. Most people think of Jamaal as a long shot.

But the times are changing. Jamaal has raised nearly $1 million. He was endorsed by AOC. He is young and energetic and passionate.

Michelle Goldberg, a regular columnist for the New York Times, wrote an extraordinary column about Jamaal.

Goldberg wrote:

On March 1, which feels about 20 years ago, NBC News published an essay by a congressional candidate, Jamaal Bowman, about the scars he bore from life in New York under Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who was then still running for president.

“As a working-class black male educator during the entirety of Bloomberg’s tenure, I got to experience the horrors and the trauma of how his police department treated people like me,” wrote Bowman. He described an inexplicable arrest following a routine traffic stop, and another after he was accused of stealing his own car. He wrote about Eric Garner and Sean Bell, two black men killed by N.Y.P.D. cops, and about the growing police presence in the city schools where Bowman had made his career.

Last March, when the NBC article appeared, Goldberg wrote him off. But the world has changed since the killing of George Floyd.

Now Jamaal Bowman has a shot at winning. He would be a great addition to Congress.

I endorsed Jamaal months ago. He has all the right ingredients to be a strong voice on behalf of his district, on behalf of education, on behalf of the black and brown students he worked so hard to educate as principal of the Cornerstone Academy of Social Action, and on behalf of their families. He would fight for those who have been left behind by poverty, institutional neglect, and racism.

If you live in the Sixteenth Congressional District in the Bronx, please vote for Jamaal Bowman for Congress.

This is a story of a community organizer, Monica Cannon-Grant, who has used her character, determination, and passion to create a force on behalf of the black community of Boston. She is relentless. She demonstrates the power of one person to make change. She makes real the quote attributed to Margaret Mead: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world: indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”


Monica Cannon-Grant began her day on Thursday as she begins most days: grocery shopping for 1,700 people.

Wearing a black T-shirt printed with the words “I can’t breathe,” she lifted barrels of mayonnaise and enormous tins of tuna into her Restaurant Depot cart.

“Today is the first memorial for George Floyd,” she said quietly as she rolled the cart down the aisle.

She has not had much time to grieve lately, or even to rest.

Cannon-Grant, who is 39 and lives in Roxbury, organized the Tuesday march in Franklin Park that drew tens of thousands of people to protest police brutality and demand action in Boston. Though it followed on the heels of a protest that ended in violence downtown, she made clear that her march, which started with a “die-in” at Blue Hill Avenue, would be peaceful. And it was.

Cannon-Grant, who is at turns a firecracker and a mother bear, has also been distributing about 1,750 free meals a day, through the restaurant Food for the Soul in Dorchester, to people in the neighborhood who have struggled since the coronavirus hit. She is the mother of six children, two of whom she adopted as teenagers.

“Anything that goes down in the community, positive or negative, it almost has to go through Monica,” said Chris Lewis, a fellow activist who has known Cannon-Grant since they were children.

The two threads of Cannon-Grant’s work last week—feeding hundreds of people while at the same time agitating for specific policy prescriptions to end police brutality—help illustrate her overarching vision for change in the city. She has been inspired by the legacy of the Black Panther movement, she said, which challenged police violence while running massive “survival programs,” such as free breakfasts for school children that paved the way for the government’s free breakfast program.

Cannon-Grant’s focus, she and others said, is making sure the Black community in Boston can protect and serve itself.

“I studied a lot of the work that they did and how they were able to uplift and take care of their own communities,” Cannon-Grant said, sitting outside Food for the Soul as volunteers prepared free lunches inside. “My hope is to embody the Black Panther movement.”

In that spirit, Cannon-Grant hired her own security to keep the peace during the march in Franklin Park.

“I don’t have a relationship with the police department, and honestly I can’t depend on them to protect me. So I started reaching out to men in the community,” Cannon-Grant said. She offered them $100 to look out for instigators of violence and to de-escalate interactions with the police, which they did. In the end, around 50 Black men from the neighborhoods where the march took place acted as eyes and ears during it. They declined to be paid, she said.

Large numbers of people tend to follow her lead, said Donnell Singleton, the owner of Food for the Soul, who has worked with Cannon-Grant for years.

“Here’s Monica, with a sea of people behind her,” Singleton said of seeing her at Franklin Park on Tuesday.

Cannon-Grant has long been a thorn in the side of city and state politicians, urging them to take action to prevent violence against Black and brown people in Boston. She grew up in the Franklin Hill neighborhood of Dorchester, and attended the Jeremiah E. Burke High School.

It was wrong, she thought, that some politicians celebrated an overall reduction of violence in Boston, even as it continued in poor and majority-Black neighborhoods. After her teenage son twice had a gun pulled on him outside the family’s home, she decided enough was enough. She started attending every public safety meeting the city had, insistently pressing politicians on her central concern.

“They’re like, ‘Oh we’re doing great,’” she said. “So explain to me why my street is shot up 15 times and my son had a gun pulled on him twice? Why is this normal?”

Assisted by a source she won’t divulge, she began posting almost every shooting or stabbing that took place in the city on her Facebook page with the hashtag #ViolenceinBoston in 2017. That also became the name of the nonprofit she launched that year, to provide direct resources like food and housing to Black and brown victims of violence in Boston.

If she didn’t post quickly enough, bystanders or those involved in shootings would send her Facebook messages to let her know what happened. “Shots fired outside my house … 2 shots in my driveway,” read one message she received last month.

“There’s been many a night, late at night, that I get a call from Monica and there’s a crime scene that she’s telling me to meet her at,” said former city councilor Tito Jackson, one of Cannon-Grant’s mentors and close friends.

As someone without a college degree or institutional affiliations, Cannon-Grant and her peers felt she was often dismissed by elected officials and others in power as not having much to add. And so she took to inviting herself, being so persistent and sometimes disruptive that she couldn’t really be ignored.

Beginning in 2018, she launched a nearly yearlong campaign to get Mayor Martin J. Walsh to meet with her. She called him out on Twitter and blasted him on Facebook Live videos; in a typical post from October 2018, she wrote, “Today makes 99 days since Mayor Marty Walsh called my cell phone agreeing to meet with me. Last night Boston’s 47th Homicide…He loves press conferences to give the perception he’s doing something but he’s not.” She was particularly outraged by comments he made in July 2018 addressing shooting victims in Dorchester, which she thought blamed them for the violence they suffered.

“If you want to kill each other — it’s a horrible thing and I don’t want to stand here as mayor and say, ‘You know, we’re justifying that’ — you kill each other,” Walsh said at the time.

Finally, after what Cannon-Grant described as “256 days of advocacy,” Walsh met with her. Sharing a plain bagel at Soleil, they cut right to the chase.

“Can you stop calling me a motherf*****?” Cannon-Grant recalled Walsh asking at the beginning of the meeting.

“I said, ‘Sure, I need you to also stop getting in the media, talking about Black men in the community as if you actually understand what it is to be a Black man.’”

Then the two had an honest conversation, both said in interviews, one that opened up an avenue for them to work together. Walsh said he had made comments out of frustration and concern at seeing people dying day after day.

“And I told him I feel the same way and since then, we’re aligned in our frustration,” Cannon-Grant said. “You’re supposed to disagree, you’re supposed to have conversations and then figure out how you could work together.”

The mayor has since directed funding and resources to Violence in Boston, as well as the Food for the Soul project.

“We certainly weren’t mortal enemies, but there was definitely a lot of conflict there and barriers to communication,” Walsh said in an interview. “And that hour — maybe a little longer — broke down those barriers.”

The story of her evolving relationship with Walsh over the past two years is also the story of her own changing role in the city, from that of a marginalized activist beating down the walls of those in power, into someone who wields significant power and influence on behalf of her community.

“A lot of what she was acting out on at first was her own pain,” said Thaddeus Miles, director of community services at MassHousing. Now, he said, “She’s more strategic around her thought and she’s worked with her allies in a different way.”

As a sign of her growing stature both in the city and beyond, she hosted a town hall last week that featured Senator Elizabeth Warren, Representative Ayanna Pressley, and Emerald Garner, a daughter of Eric Garner, a Black man who died after being placed in a chokehold by a police officer in New York. The group discussed how to pass federal legislation mirroring state legislation targeting police brutality, including a California law banning the use of deadly force by police if there is a reasonable alternative, and a New York bill requiring that police provide medical help to those in custody who request it.

Cannon-Grant ran for state representative in 2016 and lost. Then in 2017, she organized the Fight Supremacy rally on the Boston Common the week after a white supremacist march in Charlottesville, Va. Politicians and even other activists at the time worried that it wasn’t a good idea, Miles said — that she didn’t have the organization to pull it off. They feared it would disintegrate into a violent clash between white supremacists and protesters.

That didn’t happen. Instead, she drew tens of thousands of people to the Boston Common for a peaceful march.

“People started to take her seriously,” said Miles.

But even with increased recognition, Cannon-Grant continues to agitate when she deems it necessary.

In one notable example from 2019, she interrupted a panel featuring Governor Charlie Baker, Attorney General Maura Healey, and House Speaker Robert DeLeo in the wake of the school shooting in Parkland, Fla. The panel was meant to assess how Massachusetts had achieved such a low rate of deaths from guns.

“I’m sorry but there are Black and brown folks sitting in this room that I brought with me who are victims of gun violence in Black communities that get ignored every day,” Cannon-Grant said from the darkened audience. “No disrespect, but we were screaming way before Parkland.”

She then brought her own chair onto the stage, filled mostly with white men in suits, and began taking questions from the audience.

Anne Grammer, the 82-year-old cofounder of Cape Cod Grandmothers Against Gun Violence, was so moved by Cannon-Grant’s words that, a few weeks afterward, she drove to Cannon-Grant’s house and offered to volunteer for her.

“Anything she asked me to do, I will do,” Grammer said.

Cannon-Grant credits her fighting spirit to her grandmother, who worked the polls and was the head of her tenant association in Boston for many years.

“My grandmother was a fighter,” Cannon-Grant said, laughing. “She would invite the city councilors to the cookout to curse them out about what they didn’t do for the community.”

That’s how onlookers describe Cannon-Grant, too.

“You’re definitely not going to control her,” said Jackson, “and you’re not going to contain her, either.”

Bob Shephered commented:

A few notes about “the land of the free,” from the NAACP:

Between 1980 and 2015, the number of people incarcerated in America increased from roughly 500,000 to over 2.2 million.

Today, the United States makes up about 5% of the world’s population and has 21% of the world’s prisoners.

1 in every 37 adults in the United States, or 2.7% of the adult population, is under some form of correctional supervision.

In 2014, African Americans constituted 2.3 million, or 34%, of the total 6.8 million correctional population.

African Americans are incarcerated at more than 5 times the rate of whites.

The imprisonment rate for African American women is twice that of white women.

Though African Americans and Hispanics make up approximately 32% of the US population, they comprised 56% of all incarcerated people in 2015.

If African Americans and Hispanics were incarcerated at the same rates as whites, prison and jail populations would decline by almost 40%.

In the 2015 National Survey on Drug Use and Health, about 17 million whites and 4 million African Americans reported having used an illicit drug within the last month.

African Americans and whites use drugs at similar rates, but the imprisonment rate of African Americans for drug charges is almost 6 times that of whites.

African Americans represent 12.5% of illicit drug users, but 29% of those arrested for drug offenses and 33% of those incarcerated in state facilities for drug offenses.

The leader of an influential charter advocacy group in Pennsylvania’s wrote on Facebook that the people protesting the murder of George Floyd “disgust me.”

Ana Meyers, head of the Pennsylvania Coalition of Public Charter Schools, posted — and then deleted — a statement on her personal Facebook page in which she called the protests spurred by the killing of George Floyd “not okay.”

Maybe she didn’t know that people were protesting racism and police brutality. Very likely the students in charter schools and their families were among those who “disgusted” her.

Whatever. She deleted her post.

The AFT issued this statement:

Statement by AFT President Randi Weingarten on Jobs Report

WASHINGTON—American Federation of Teachers President Randi Weingarten issued the following statement after the U.S. jobs report showed the loss of more than half a million additional public sector layoffs amid a rebound in private sector jobs:

“The jobs report out today confirms what we already know: The CARES Act is working, but if we don’t act now on a new round of stimulus for states, communities and schools, then millions more Americans will be out of work.

“An additional 585,000 public sector jobs were lost, following a drop of 963,000 in April. That includes another 375,000 educators, for a total of 750,000 so far during the COVID-19 pandemic, double the carnage of the Great Recession.

“The numbers are an argument for state and local aid, not against it. Business wants to come back, but we can’t halt stimulus now, particularly for states and schools, otherwise we’ll be confronting a fresh slump that will wreak havoc for years.

“We are in the midst of three crises: a pandemic, an economic crisis and a crisis of systemic racism. The news that private sector jobs grew was a step in the right direction, but these crises are far from over.

“The president’s comments today about George Floyd were tone-deaf. Floyd was murdered by police, and racial inequalities remain unaddressed. The report showed that Black unemployment rose, as African Americans continue to feel the disproportionate effects of the downturn.

“There are no magic fixes for this economy—only a path to recovery if we keep up the stimulus and investments to fund, rather than forfeit, the future. We urgently need the federal funding included in the HEROES Act that helps states, cities, towns and schools weather this rolling storm. If we fail to act, essential services will be gutted, schools won’t be able to reopen and public employees will stay laid off.”

The Network for Public Education has sponsored a series of weekly ZOOM conversations in which I interview someone who has important things to say.

On Wednesday, I interviewed Jitu Brown, a prominent community organizer in Chicago and leader of the Journey for Justice Alliance, which has organizations in thirty cities.

When we set up the discussion, we thought we would talk mostly about privatization and Jitu Brown’s successful fight to save the Walter H. Dyett High School in Chicago. Jitu Brown is one of the heroes of my new book SLAYING GOLIATH, for his success in stopping Rahm Emanuel from closing Dyett.

These topics were discussed but the main focus was on the murder of George Floyd and racism in America. Jitu Brown has quite a lot to say about racism, in large part because of his experiences. We also talked about a Rahm Emanuel, and his disastrous role in running the public schools as mayor of Chicago.

Listeners said it was a “riveting” conversation.

Listen and see for yourself.

Next week, I will talk with Amy Frogge, a great leader of the resistance to privatization in Metro Nashville. She is a member of the Metro Nashville public school board, as well as a parent of public school students and a lawyer.

She too is a hero of SLAYING GOLIATH for her leadership in defending public schools.

We will talk about “The Fight for Better Public Schools in Tennessee.” The billionaires and their puppet organizations have poured many millions into school board races in an effort to capture control of the district. Amy has fought valiantly against proponents of charters and vouchers.

This is a battle that is being played out in urban districts across the nation.

Join us on Zoom on June 10 at 7:30 pm, EST.

There has been persistent speculation that peaceful protests against racism and police brutality may have been infiltrated by white provocateurs.

The members of this movement have attracted attention.

The police in Las Vegas arrested three white men and charged them with terrorism.

Three Nevada men with ties to a loose movement of right-wing extremists advocating the overthrow of the U.S. government have been arrested on terrorism-related charges in what authorities say was a conspiracy to spark violence during recent protests in Las Vegas.

Federal prosecutors say the three white men with U.S. military experience are accused of conspiring to carry out a plan that began in April in conjunction with protests to reopen businesses closed because of the coronavirus.

More recently, they sought to capitalize on protests over the death of George Floyd, a black man who died in Minneapolis after a white officer pressed his knee into his neck for several minutes even after he stopped moving and pleading for air, prosecutors said.

The three men were arrested Saturday on the way to a protest in downtown Las Vegas after filling gas cans at a parking lot and making Molotov cocktails in glass bottles, according to a copy of the criminal complaint obtained by The Associated Press.

A 25-year-old white man was arrested for arson in Nashville after setting a fire at the city’s historic Courthouse. A white man dressed in black and wearing a gas mask smashed windows in Minneapolis, where he methodically used a hammer to break every window in an Autozone store, then slipped away.

Were they and others part of the so-called “Bougaloo Movement” of rightwing anarchists?

This is what Wikipedia says about them.

The boogaloo movement, members of which are often referred to as boogaloo boys or boogaloo bois, is a loosely organized American far-right extremist movement.[3][4][5] Members of the boogaloo movement say they are preparing for a coming second American Civil War, which they call the “boogaloo”.[3][6] Members use the term to refer to violent uprisings against the federal government or left-wing political opponents, often anticipated to follow government confiscation of firearms.[1][7]

The movement consists of anti-government and anti-law enforcement groups, as well as white supremacist groups who specifically believe the unrest will be a race war.[3][1][7] Groups in the boogaloo movement primarily organize online (particularly on Facebook), but have appeared at in-person events including the 2020 United States anti-lockdown protests and the May 2020 George Floyd protests, often identified by their attire of Hawaiian shirts and military fatigues.[1][8][9]…

Members of boogaloo groups typically believe in accelerationism, and support any action that will speed impending civil war and eventually the collapse of society.[4][6] According to The Economist, to this end boogaloo group members have supported the “spreading of disinformation and conspiracy theories, attacks on infrastructure (such as that on New York’s 311 line) and lone-wolf terrorism.”[4] Some boogaloo groups are also white supremacist and specifically believe that the “boogaloo” will be a race war,[3][1][7] but there are others that condemn racism.[13] Attempts by some elements of the Boogaloo movement to support anti-racist groups, such as Black Lives Matter, have been met with wariness and skepticism….[14]

Extremism researchers first took notice of the word “boogaloo” being used in the context of the boogaloo movement in 2019, when they observed it being used among fringe groups including militias, gun rights movements, and white supremacist groups.[1] This usage of the term is believed to have originated on the fringe imageboard website 4chan, where it was often accompanied by references to “racewar” and “dotr” (day of the rope, a neo-Nazi reference to a fantasy involving murdering what the posters view to be “race traitors”).[1][6] Researchers from the Network Contagion Research Institute (NCRI) found that the usage of the term “boogaloo” increased by 50% on Facebook and Twitter in the last months of 2019 and into early 2020. They attribute surges in popularity to a viral incident in November 2019, when a military veteran posted content mentioning the boogaloo on Instagram during a standoff with police, and to the December 2019 impeachment of Donald Trump.[1][2] The boogaloo movement experienced a further surge in popularity following the lockdowns that were implemented to try to slow the spread of the COVID-19 pandemic in the United States, and the Tech Transparency Project observed that the boogaloo groups appeared to be encouraged by President Trump’s tweets about “liberating” states under lockdown.[3][7][19]

Yesterday, former Vice President Joe Biden addressed the nation. I found myself nodding in agreement. Joe Biden is not a perfect candidate, but he is the candidate who will oppose Trump in November (unless Trump goes full-fascist and cancels the elections indefinitely). I don’t know of anyone who is perfect, let alone a “perfect candidate.” He is the one we have and I will work for his election.

Here are the remarks as prepared for delivery:

“I can’t breathe.” “I can’t breathe.”

George Floyd’s last words. But they didn’t die with him. They’re still being heard. They’re echoing across this nation.

They speak to a nation where too often just the color of your skin puts your life at risk.

They speak to a nation where more than 100,000 people have lost their lives to a virus — and 40 million Americans have filed for unemployment — with a disproportionate number of these deaths and job losses concentrated in black and brown communities.

And they speak to a nation where every day millions of people — not at the moment of losing their life — but in the course of living their life — are saying to themselves, “I can’t breathe.”

It’s a wake-up call for our nation. For all of us.

And I mean all of us. It’s not the first time we’ve heard these words — they’re the same words we heard from Eric Garner when his life was taken six years ago.

But it’s time to listen to these words. Understand them. And respond to them — with real action.

The country is crying out for leadership. Leadership that can unite us. Leadership that can bring us together. Leadership that can recognize the pain and deep grief of communities that have had a knee on their neck for too long.

But there is no place for violence.

No place for looting or destroying property or burning churches, or destroying businesses — many of them built by people of color who for the first time were beginning to realize their dreams and build wealth for their families.

Nor is it acceptable for our police — sworn to protect and serve all people — to escalate tensions or resort to excessive violence.

We need to distinguish between legitimate peaceful protest — and opportunistic violent destruction.

And we must be vigilant about the violence that’s being done by the incumbent president to our democracy and to the pursuit of justice.

When peaceful protestors are dispersed by the order of the President from the doorstep of the people’s house, the White House — using tear gas and flash grenades — in order to stage a photo op at a noble church, we can be forgiven for believing that the president is more interested in power than in principle.

More interested in serving the passions of his base than the needs of the people in his care.
For that’s what the presidency is: a duty of care — to all of us, not just our voters, not just our donors, but all of us.

The President held up a bible at St. John’s church yesterday.

If he opened it instead of brandishing it, he could have learned something: That we are all called to love one another as we love ourselves.

That’s hard work. But it’s the work of America.

Donald Trump isn’t interested in doing that work.

Instead he’s preening and sweeping away all the guardrails that have long protected our democracy.

Guardrails that have helped make possible this nation’s path to a more perfect union.

A union that constantly requires reform and rededication — and yes the protests from voices of those mistreated, ignored, left out and left behind.

But it’s a union worth fighting for and that’s why I’m running for President.

In addition to the Bible, he might also want to open the U.S. Constitution.

If he did, he’d find the First Amendment. It protects “the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

Mr. President: That is America.

Not horses rising up on their hind legs to push back a peaceful protest. Not using the American military to move against the American people.

This nation is a nation of values. Our freedom to speak is the cherished knowledge that lives inside every American.

We will not allow any President to quiet our voice.

We won’t let those who see this as an opportunity to sow chaos throw up a smokescreen to distract us from the very real and legitimate grievances at the heart of these protests.

And we can’t leave this moment thinking we can once again turn away and do nothing. We can’t.

The moment has come for our nation to deal with systemic racism. To deal with the growing economic inequality in our nation. And to deal with the denial of the promise of this nation — to so many.

I’ve said from the outset of this election that we are in a battle for the soul of this nation. Who we are. What we believe. And maybe most important — who we want to be.

It’s all at stake. That is truer today than ever. And it’s in this urgency we can find the path forward.

The history of this nation teaches us that it’s in some of our darkest moments of despair that we’ve made some of our greatest progress.

The 13th and 14th and 15th Amendments followed the Civil War. The greatest economy in the history of the world grew out of the Great Depression. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Voting Rights Act of 1965 came in the tracks of Bull Connor’s vicious dogs.

To paraphrase Reverend Barber — it’s in the mourning we find hope.

It will take more than talk. We’ve had talk before. We’ve had protests before.

Let us vow to make this, at last, an era of action to reverse systemic racism with long overdue and concrete changes.

That action will not be completed in the first 100 days of my Presidency — or even an entire term.

It is the work of a generation.

But if this agenda will take time to complete, it should not wait for the first 100 days of my Presidency to get started.

A down payment on what is long overdue should come now. Immediately.

I call on Congress to act this month on measures that would be a first step in this direction. Starting with real police reform.

Congressman Jeffries has a bill to outlaw choke holds. Congress should put it on President Trump’s desk in the next few days.

There are other measures: to stop transferring weapons of war to police forces, to improve oversight and accountability, to create a model use of force standard — that also should be made law this month.

No more excuses. No more delays.

If the Senate has time to confirm Trump’s unqualified judicial nominees who will run roughshod over our Constitution, it has time to pass legislation that will give true meaning to our Constitution’s promise of “equal protection of the laws.”

Looking ahead, in the first 100 days of my presidency, I have committed to creating a national police oversight commission.

I’ve long believed we need real community policing.

And we need each and every police department in the country to undertake a comprehensive review of their hiring, their training, and their de-escalation practices.

And the federal government should give them the tools and resources they need to implement reforms.

Most cops meet the highest standards of their profession. All the more reason that bad cops should be dealt with severely and swiftly. We all need to take a hard look at the culture that allows for these senseless tragedies to keep happening.

And we need to learn from the cities and precincts that are getting it right.

We know, though, that to have true justice in America, we need economic justice, too.

Here, too, there is much to be done.

As an immediate step, Congress should act to rectify racial inequities in the allocation of COVID-19 recovery funds.

I will be setting forth more of my agenda on economic justice and opportunity in the weeks and months ahead.

But it begins with health care. It should be a right not a privilege. The quickest route to universal coverage in this country is to expand Obamacare.

We could do it. We should do it.

But this president — even now — in the midst of a public health crisis with massive unemployment wants to destroy it.

He doesn’t care how many millions of Americans will be hurt— because he is consumed with his blinding ego when it comes to President Obama.

The President should withdraw his lawsuit to strike down Obamacare, and the Congress should prepare to act on my proposal to expand Obamacare to millions more.

These last few months we have seen America’s true heroes. The health care workers, the nurses, delivery truck drivers, grocery store workers.

We have a new phrase for them: Essential workers.

But we need to do more than praise them. We need to pay them.

Because if it wasn’t clear before, it’s clear now. This country wasn’t built by Wall Street bankers and CEOs. It was built by America’s great middle class — by our essential workers.

I know there is enormous fear and uncertainty and anger in the country. I understand.

And I know so many Americans are suffering. Suffering the loss of a loved one. Suffering economic hardships. Suffering under the weight of generation after generation after generation of hurt inflicted on people of color — and on black and Native communities in particular.

I know what it means to grieve. My losses are not the same as the losses felt by so many. But I know what it is to feel like you cannot go on.

I know what it means to have a black hole of grief sucking at your chest.

Just a few days ago marked the fifth anniversary of my son Beau’s passing from cancer. There are still moments when the pain is so great it feels no different from the day he died. But I also know that the best way to bear loss and pain is to turn all that anger and anguish to purpose.

And, Americans know what our purpose is as a nation. It has guided us from the very beginning.

It’s been reported That on the day John F. Kennedy was assassinated, little Yolanda King came home from school in Atlanta and jumped in her father’s arms.

“Oh, Daddy,” she said, “now we will never get our freedom.”

Her daddy was reassuring, strong, and brave.

“Now don’t you worry, baby,” said Martin Luther King, Jr. “It’s going to be all right.”

Amid violence and fear, Dr. King persevered.

He was driven by his dream of a nation where “justice runs down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

Then, in 1968 hate would cut him down in Memphis.

A few days before Dr. King was murdered, he gave a final Sunday sermon in Washington.

He told us that though the arc of a moral universe is long, it bends toward justice.

And we know we can bend it — because we have.

We have to believe that still. That is our purpose. It’s been our purpose from the beginning.

To become the nation where all men and women are not only created equal — but treated equally.

To become the nation defined — in Dr. King’s words — not only by the absence of tension, but by the presence of justice.

Today in America it’s hard to keep faith that justice is at hand. I know that. You know that.

The pain is raw. The pain is real.

A president of the United States must be part of the solution, not the problem. But our president today is part of the problem.

When he tweeted the words “When the looting starts, the shooting starts” — those weren’t the words of a president. They were the words of a racist Miami police chief from the 1960s.

When he tweeted that protesters “would have been greeted with the most vicious dogs … that’s when people would have been really badly hurt.” Those weren’t the words of a president — those were the kind of words a Bull Connor would have used unleashing his dogs.

The American story is about action and reaction. That’s the way history works. We can’t be naïve about that.

I wish I could say this hate began with Donald Trump and will end with him. It didn’t and it won’t. American history isn’t a fairytale with a guaranteed happy ending.

The battle for the soul of this nation has been a constant push-and-pull for more than 240 years.

A tug of war between the American ideal that we are all created equal and the harsh reality that racism has long torn us apart. The honest truth is both elements are part of the American character.

At our best, the American ideal wins out.

It’s never a rout. It’s always a fight. And the battle is never finally won.

But we can’t ignore the truth that we are at our best when we open our hearts, not when we clench our fists.

Donald Trump has turned our country into a battlefield riven by old resentments and fresh fears.

He thinks division helps him.

His narcissism has become more important than the nation’s well-being he leads.

I ask every American to look at where we are now, and think anew: Is this who we are? Is this who we want to be? Is this what we pass on to our kids’ and grandkids’ lives? Fear and finger-pointing rather than hope and the pursuit of happiness? Incompetence and anxiety? Self-absorption and selfishness?

Or do we want to be the America we know we can be. The America we know in our hearts we could be and should be.

Look, the presidency is a big job. Nobody will get everything right. And I won’t either.

But I promise you this. I won’t traffic in fear and division. I won’t fan the flames of hate.

I will seek to heal the racial wounds that have long plagued this country — not use them for political gain.

I’ll do my job and take responsibility. I won’t blame others. I’ll never forget that the job isn’t about me.

It’s about you.

And I’ll work to not only rebuild this nation. But to build it better than it was.

To build a better future. That’s what America does.

We build the future. It may in fact be the most American thing to do.

We hunger for liberty the way Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass did.

We thirst for the vote the way Susan B. Anthony and Ella Baker and John Lewis did. We strive to explore the stars, to cure disease, to make this imperfect Union as perfect as we can.

We may come up short — but at our best we try.

We are facing formidable enemies.

They include not only the coronavirus and its terrible impact on our lives and livelihoods, but also the selfishness and fear that have loomed over our national life for the last three years.

Defeating those enemies requires us to do our duty — and that duty includes remembering who we should be.

We should be the America of FDR and Eisenhower, of Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr., of Jonas Salk and Neil Armstrong.

We should be the America that cherishes life and liberty and courage.

Above all, we should be the America that cherishes each other — each and every one.

We are a nation in pain, but we must not allow this pain to destroy us. We are a nation enraged, but we cannot allow our rage to consume us. We are a nation exhausted, but we will not allow our exhaustion to defeat us.

As President, it is my commitment to all of you to lead on these issues — to listen. Because I truly believe in my heart of hearts, that we can overcome. And when we stand together, finally, as One America, we will rise stronger than before.

So reach out to one another. Speak out for one another. And please, please take care of each other.

This is the United States of America. And there is nothing we can’t do. If we do it together.

Community organizer Jitu Brown and I will be in conversation on Wednesday June 3 at 7:30 pm EST.

Please sign up and join us.

Jitu Brown is the leader of Journey for Justice, a civil rights organization with chapters in 25 cities.

We will talk about the murder of George Floyd, about racism in America today, about the legacy of Rahm Emanuel in Chicago, about Jitu’s fight to prevent the closing of the Walter H. Dyett High School in Chicago, and much more.

Most of us know Trevor Noah as a commentator who filled Jon Stewart’s spot as moderator of The Daily Show. Like Jon Stewart, he has a keen intellect and a sharp sense of humor.

In this monologue, Trevor Noah is reflective about connecting the dots that brought us to the present moment.

He connects Amy Cooper, the white woman who falsely complained to police that an African American man was threatening her in Central Park, when the man in question complained that her dog was off-leash in an area reserved for bird watchers.

He connects the coronavirus, which has disproportionately harmed African Americans.

He connects the economic collapse, which has impoverished many who were already in dire straights.

And he connects the murder of George Floyd.

All of these events send a message to black Americans that the social contract that underlies society has been severed, forcc c them.

A brilliant presentation.