PLATFORM : New Jersey: The Value of a Vote

When I step into a voting booth, I feel the powerlessness of my slave ancestors, the suffering of my grandparents and the anguish of my parents, who fought for me to have my civil rights. When I feel it I am compelled to vote.

I feel the determination of the freedom riders, the strength of the civil-rights marchers and the commitment fo Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I feel the dogs biting, the billy clubs striking, the sting of the water from the fire hoses. I feel the blood of all those who died. They were killed in an effort to prevent me and my family from voting. So I punch that ballot feeling their souls cry out.

After I drop my ballot into the box, my body strengthens with pride as I feel the power and hopes of every African-American elected official. I feel the joy and success of every African-American that was treated equally before the law.

So what happened in New Jersey?

Whether true or not, the insinuation, the accusation, the bragging that a political candidate offered and that African-American ministers accepted money to sell my soul--the soul of the African-American community, the soul of America, the soul of democracy--hurts. Is it possible that the African-American church, the church that was on the front line in our fight to get voting rights betrayed us? How much is our soul worth? It has to be worth more than the cost of a full investigation.