The Real Victory

The Real Victory – September 5, 2018

I woke up this morning to the news that Ayanna Pressley had beat 10-time incumbent Representative Mike Capuano in the MA Democratic primary election. With no Republican opponent on the ballot for November, she is expected to serve as the first African-American woman U.S. House Representative for the Commonwealth.  I am writing these words through tears. 

I was 22 years old when Mrs. Ayanna Pressley became the first Black City Councilwoman in Boston, Massachusetts. I had lived in Boston for just over a year, and was entering my first year of medical school. 

I only ever went from school to home and back. I studied all the time. 

Outside of that, I could barely figure out the transit system, had no friends except my classmates, and was frankly, scared of Boston. 

All I had heard was that it was this extremely racist place. Before I even knew where I would live, I was warned where not to go. The surrounding towns are either Black (Dorchester) or White (Newton), with little integration of either. I was told to stay in my lane and I’d be fine. 

The campus was safe(r). We were diverse, young, open minded, and mostly not from Boston. We were insulated from a lot of local politics. 

But not in 2009.

Ayanna Pressley shook the foundation of Boston when she decided to run. 

Even I, a poor student, with no vested interest in local politics, took notice. This was different. This was a young (under 35) Black woman who was not staying in her lane. 

Most importantly, she was fearless. 

Her campaign signs were equally as pervasive as the ubiquitous mumblings that she could never win. But along with her political buzz, came a new hum — the sound of the people. Boston residents who had long ago relegated local government as being “not for us” came out to vote. In her face, they saw their voice — a sound they hadn’t heard in a long, long time. 

I did not vote in that election. 

I was never a resident of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, so I was never eligible to vote there. 

But I prayed. 

And cried. 

And won, along with her. 

Because a victory for Ayanna Pressley was a victory for every little Black girl who has ever been denied entry. 

It was a victory for the entire nation. A signal that we are ready to heal and weave a new braid into the fabric of our history. 

When I heard her campaign slogan for this race: Change Can’t Wait, I immediately thought “and it won’t.” 

Ayanna dreamed a dream, and made it happen – which meant I could, too.

I screenshot this picture from the article because her daughter’s gaze and tears in their moment of victory carry the familiar mix of pride and weight, joy and incredulity. 

Councilwoman Mrs. Pressley, Congratulations and thank you – for bravery, for determination, and for refusing to stay in your lane. I, along with all the women who refuse to wait our turn, stand with you.