
When I was a child growing up in Greenville, S.C., my grandmama could not afford a blanket. She didn’t complain, and we did not freeze. Instead she took pieces of old cloth — patches, wool, silk, gabardine, crockersack — only patches, barely good enough to wipe off your shoes with. But they didn’t stay that way very long. With sturdy hands and a strong cord, she sewed them together into a quilt, a thing of beauty and power and culture. Now, Democrats, we must build such a quilt.
Farmers, you seek fair prices, and you are right, but you cannot stand alone. Your patch is not big enough. Workers, you fight for fair wages. You are right, but your patch of labor is not big enough.
Women, you seek comparable worth and pay equity. You are right, but your patch is not big enough. Women, mothers who seek Head Start and day care and prenatal care on the front side of life, relevant jail care and welfare on the back side of life, you are right, but your patch is not big enough.
Students, you seek scholarships. You are right, but your patch is not big enough. Blacks and Hispanics, when we fight for civil rights, we are right, but our patch is not big enough. Gays and lesbians, when you fight against discrimination and a cure for AIDS, you are right, but your patch is not big enough.
This isn’t a set of individual appeals; it’s a call for collective recognition that stresses the common thread without losing sight of the challenges facing each group. It does not put each group in a silo; it asks people to see one another in their own struggles — a translation of the theological notion of I and thou, tuned for a more democratic and egalitarian politics.
I could go on about Jackson’s campaigns, but I’ll leave it there and end with this: As we navigate this dark time in American politics, McCarthy has given us a reminder — a very useful reminder — that we need not ignore the particular in our fight to dispel the darkness of the present moment. We just can’t let it consume us.
Uncle Karl wrote about this