A crisis of political maturity: How Black leadership in Memphis is mismanaging the moment

There are political moments that test our ideology, and there are political moments that test our maturity. Memphis is presently experiencing both.

The question before us is no longer simply what Tennessee’s recent congressional redistricting has done to Black political representation in Memphis. That has already shaped the terrain of the November election.

The more urgent question is whether Black political leadership in Memphis possesses the spiritual, emotional and political maturity necessary to respond to this moment with the seriousness it deserves.

So far, I am deeply concerned that too many of us are missing the mark and mismanaging the moment.

This moment requires the highest levels of maturity. That means personal grudges, bruised egos, intraparty rivalries, institutional territorialism and political pettiness cannot be permitted to become more important than public participation.

And many of Shelby County’s elected officials, including U.S. Rep. Steve Cohen, Memphis Mayor Paul Young, Shelby County Mayor Mickell Lowery, House Democratic Leader Karen Camper, the Shelby County and Tennessee Democratic Party and the Tennessee Black Caucus of State Legislators, must be more assertive as we move toward the November election. 

The most recent example of the leadership vacuum came in Tuesday’s appointment of a Democratic nominee for the state House District 84 seat, which became vacant when longtime Rep. Joe Towns resigned. Towns, who in August was elected Shelby County Criminal Court Clerk, had been running for both his state legislative seat and the clerk seat for months. 

Yet Democratic officials seemed caught flatfooted when he resigned, leaving the district without a nominee. The statutory process for selecting a nominee kicked in but legality is not the only question democratic institutions should ask themselves.  There are also questions of legitimacy, transparency and public trust. 

In the absence of leadership, one Shelby County Democratic Executive Committee member picked the person who will be on the November ballot, unopposed. 

Why? If personal animus toward another politician, pastor, organizer or advocate determines whether someone will participate in efforts to strengthen democratic participation, that is no longer merely interpersonal conflict. It becomes a leadership problem. A critical election cannot become collateral damage in somebody else’s feud.

If the fragmentation of Black political power in Memphis ultimately accomplishes its intended effect, history should record more than what Republicans in Nashville did through redistricting. It should also record how everybody else responded.

I am marking this moment carefully.

We should remember who was silent, slothful, stingy, stubborn and salacious when this moment demanded that we be sacrificial, smart, savvy and sincere about putting the interests of the people ahead of our individual platforms.

That scrutiny includes our political institutions. After contentious primaries, party organizations face legitimate questions about whether their members publicly support nominees selected by voters and whether their internal procedures strengthen or weaken public confidence. Those questions deserve transparent answers rather than appeals to procedure alone.

The question is whether leaders are using the platforms entrusted to them to encourage broad democratic participation, communicate accurate information, acknowledge and correct misrepresentations and missteps when warranted, and strengthen public confidence in people’s ability to exercise political power.

Too many of them are not. 

And anybody who benefits from democracy should be willing to strengthen democracy.

If you have a constituency, engage it. If you have a congregation, educate it. If you have a platform, use it. If you have an email list, activate it. If you have resources, invest them. If you have volunteers, organize them. If you have influence, leverage it.

And if you have a title, earn it.

This is where there can be no excuses.

Leadership in this moment should be measured not merely by titles, press conferences, endorsements, social-media followings or organizational brands, but by whether leaders strengthen people’s capacity to participate in their government. Those who claim to possess influence should be prepared to demonstrate what they are doing with it.

This moment also requires something more difficult: repentance. Political maturity means being willing to acknowledge where governance has failed, where organizing has been insufficient, where rhetoric has been misleading, where relationships have been mishandled and where our own decisions have contributed to public distrust. Nobody gets to demand accountability from everybody else while declaring themselves exempt from it.

None of us should be above scrutiny if our stated objective is communal uplift rather than individual branding.

So between now and November, I am watching. And I know I am not alone.

Show us the voter registration efforts. Show us the voter education forums. Show us the canvasses, phone banks and text banks. Show us the transportation plans. Show us the early-voting strategies. Show us the precinct organizing. Show us the money being invested in civic engagement. Show us how your congregation, organization, office or institution is helping more people exercise political power.

Because if people and institutions with significant platforms remain conspicuously absent from the work of expanding democratic participation during a moment they themselves describe as consequential, the public has every right to ask what their leadership is actually for.

This moment is recording more than election results.

It is recording who put personality above people. Who protected platforms instead of building power. Who remained trapped in yesterday’s grievances while tomorrow’s political landscape was being constructed around us.

And it is recording who understood what time it was.