Strapped with Revolutionary Love

From the back of the room, I could see her–Elaine Brown, former chairperson of the Black Panther Party. For such a towering historical figure, she was smaller than I expected. She wore an all-black buttoned-up coat, her dark hair threatening to prick anyone who dared approach. Even before the interview began, her presence spoke for her. It was clear that she was a woman not to be trifled with. 

I made my way to the second row, where my friends had saved me a seat. There was still some time before the event began, but the room was brimming with anticipation nonetheless. 

When the event began, she sat, seemingly facing my friends and me. For the rest of the night it felt as if she was speaking right to us. 

When recounting the epiphany moment that brought her to activism, she told us how, during her time in Los Angeles, while living comfortably as the mistress of some Hollywood executive, a Black woman in the building she lived at asked her to come teach piano to some young girls. Brown, having grown up playing classical piano, agreed. However, when she went to the ghetto that these young girls lived in, she was reminded of her childhood growing up in poverty. When she described being confronted with these girls, and ultimately her own history, the St Clare room went silent.

“I know you because I am you,” she said, “and I forgot.”

Rarely do we get to hear history from those directly involved, but when Ms. Brown spoke, I developed a fuller and more complex understanding of the Civil Rights Era. While they were famed for their free breakfast program and health clinics, Brown made clear that the legacy of the Black Panther Party lives on in many of the other civil rights wins of the era: the Rainbow Coalition; the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (Panthers would bring hot food daily to the 504 sit-ins). 

She had a sharp eye for recognizing hypocrisy and an even sharper tongue when identifying its presence. She was unabashed when rebuffing criticism toward the Black Panther Party’s violent image, compared to the non-violent messages of other movements of the era. From this rebuff came one of the most memorable lines of the night: “Everybody in the South was strapped. Non-violence doesn’t mean no violence.” (I quickly jotted this quote down.) 

Later, when student mediator Hydeia Weissenger asked her about the challenges of making space at the proverbial table as a Black woman,  Ms. Brown interrupted her, declaring, “I don’t want a seat at their table. I don’t want to drink from their cup. Their table is marked by the blood of Native Americans and Chicanos.” 

It’s easy to be comfortable in Claradise but, as Ms. Brown put it, “There are no part-time revolutionaries . . .  If you believe those little girls should be free, then you should throw down and do something about it.” 

Santa Clara is in the richest county in the richest state in the richest country in the world. As students of this university, we have significant power to bring about change. To again borrow her words, we carry “an easy burden.” 

Once the event ended, I sat in my chair, jaw dropped and almost frozen, hoping that if I didn't move, she’d tell us more. She was an enigmatic storyteller who spoke with the authority of a chief and the wisdom of a sage. I felt as if I could listen to her speak for days. At 81, there must be so many stories and lessons she still keeps. 

Eventually, they brought her a table to sign her book, “A Taste of Power.” Serendipitously, there were just enough copies left for my friends and I to each have our own. When she signed each of the books, she addressed us as her sisters and scribbled well wishes in a cursive script. 

We couldn’t quite identify the words at first. We gathered in the hall outside to pore over what she had written, unsure. 

“Revolutionary,” my friend recognized aloud.

“What?” 

Once she said this, we saw the scribbles take shape.

“With revolutionary love, Elaine Brown.”