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At the same time, I recall James Baldwins words during the heights of
the civil rights movement in 1965: History does not refer merely ... to
the past ... History is literally present in all that we do. And so I am
mindful that just like the leaders who came before us, we are caught
between the history from which we emerge and the history to which we
aspire.
To me, it seems clear, not just in this alarming episode, but in the deeper
history it has laid bare: America has reached another defining moment.
We face a crisisthe next battle for the soul of this country, one that will
play out on the battlefield of our collective consciousness.
This should not surprise us. Americans have been trying and failing to
have a conversation about race and justice for the whole of American
history. Indeed, what happened in Charlottesville was merely the latest
tremor along fault lines that have been present in the American story
since its founding, a reopening of wounds that have barely been treated,
and never healed.
It bears repeating that at the same instant that 56 men signed the
Declaration of Independence, swearing that all men are created equal,
they founded a nation in which all people were not. And because we have
never sufficiently acknowledged this fact, Americas original sin has
never left us. Indeed, it has fueled inequalities that persist to this day
whether in the form of mass incarceration or wealth inequality, housing
discrimination or education and health disparities.
All of these very current crises stem from our complicated, difficult,
unaddressed history. The time has come for our nation to reckon with its
past.
no sustained effort toward what some today might call transitional justice.
The nation paid no reparations to freed slaves; the 40 acres and a mule
promised to most freed blacks never materialized. Our country never
convened a Truth and Reconciliation commission nor engaged in an
officially sanctioned public interrogation of our shared history, North and
South.
Despite this, astonishingly, it was not until 2008 that the US House of
Representatives could muster the votes to offer an official apology for
slavery and Jim Crow injustices. That it took more than 150 years to
pass this resolution reminds us that Americas failure to deal with its
history is also a failure of its leadership and of collective will.
To make matters worse, even our most honorable leaders are neither
incentivized nor encouraged to make decisions based on what they know
is right. Rather, they operate inand are constrained bysystems that
reinforce historical inequalities and perpetuate the status quo. Our
entrenched structures push leaders to be averse to precisely the moral
leadership they should embrace.
Its not controversial to say that our elected officials often are discouraged
from putting nation ahead of party. In gerrymandered districts, they face
retribution and primary challenges. With post-Watergate campaign
finance norms obliterated, they are forced to spend far too much time
fundraising, fearful of money pouring in to oppose them. The result is a
broken set of incentivesall of which discourage bipartisanship and
deter them from tackling the real problems facing the people they
represent.
The obsession with, and American addiction to, short-term gainat the
expense of long-term goodis the most obvious example of a larger
phenomenon: leaders who make the trivial into the important and the
important into the trivial.
In philanthropy and civil society, we have also been slow to recognize the
ways our systems discourage moral leadership. We foundations often hide
behind the particulars of our missions, rather than standing up for the
deeper values our missions embody. We keep our heads down to avoid
making our organizations targets for criticism, especially in the era of
social media warfare.
Neither the Ford Foundation, nor I, are immune to these trends, and I
know we must do better. I often wonder whether the foundation uses its
voice in the most effective way. I question whether I have inadvertently
contributed to these problems, or reinforced these entrenched systems.
Even though these problems feel particularly acute in the United States,
Already, I have been heartened by the many people practicing such moral
courage, on the ground and in local communities, across every sector.
In spite of criticism from other public officials, many elected leaders and
university presidents have acted swiftly and courageously to remove
Confederate monuments and address the uncomfortable truths of our
history. In 2015, when South Carolinas then governor Nikki Haley
removed the Confederate flag from the statehouse grounds, she noted that
this is a moment in which we can say that that flag, while an integral
part of our past, does not represent the future of our great state;
Mayor Mitch Landrieu of New Orleans reminded us, in his speech on the
removal of similar monuments, that now is the time to come together
and heal and focus on our larger task. Others, like Mayor Catherine
And in spite of many personal risks, leaders around the world are
organizing and advocating for human rights for those who have been
rendered invisible, exploited, and silenced by history. Im talking about
the moral courage of people like Cecile Richards, president of Planned
Parenthood, and Sherrilyn Ifill, president of the NAACP Legal Defense
Fund. Im talking about Farhana Khera, president of Muslim Advocates,
and Reverend William Barber, leader of a powerful moral movement for
justice. Im talking about the courageous young people known as the
Dreamers, numbering in the hundreds of thousands, who contribute every
day to the only country they have ever known.
These leaders are my reason for hope in this time of peril. They
demonstrate how we might fill the moral void at the top of our
government and dismantle the systems that stifle progress on the ground.
They remind us what is possible when our political leaders, corporations,
nonprofit organizations, foundations, and fellow citizens and neighbors
take up the mantle and choose to lead.
We need leaders who build bridges, not walls. We need leaders who work
across party lines and bring us together, not politicians who degrade our
discourse and drive us apart. We need leaders who transcend the politics
Soon, it may be too late for courage, too late to take the necessary steps to
mend our society. We risk reaching a day when whatever ability we had
to influence change or protect our democratic values will have been
squandered.
Now is the time for courage. Maya Angelou famously said, when
someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time. And so
this year, my message is simple: Like the poet says, let us show each
otherand the worldwho we are.
With thanks,