A local wag (okay, it was me) used to jest that Henri Brooks was so
determined to get busy pursuing a career in public service that she dropped out
of charm school early.
And there was a time when such a
characterization rang true of a legislator who often appeared humorless and
single-minded as she pursued goals that revolved around themes of racial justice
— especially the application of Title VI of the 1964 Civil Rights Bill to all
public issues where racial discrimination appeared likely or even possible.
That Brooks commanded respect was a
given; but so was the fact that she often rubbed her colleagues — and especially
members of the state House of Representatives hierarchy — the wrong way. All
that came to a boil back in 2001, when Brooks was publicly chastised by House
speaker Jimmy Naifeh for her refusal to stand and participate in the chamber’s
daily pledge-of-allegiance ritual.
Brooks’ response was that from the
third grade on she had regarded the flag as an emblem of erstwhile slaveholders.
The issue was later defused somewhat as Brooks — whose constitutional right to
act as she did was acknowledged by Naifeh as well as others — either stood
during the pledge or came to the chamber after it was recited. But the publicity
given the issue, like that for her advocacy of reparations for descendants of
slaves, stamped her in some quarters, in and out of the legislature, as a
zealot.
The impression lingered even as, in
recent years, Brooks evinced a widening ability to act in concert with her
colleagues on issues like the defense of TennCare. And her attention to the
needs of her mid-city District 92 constituents provided her a base that landed
her within a few votes of winning last year’s special Democratic primary for the
District 29 state Senate seat eventually won by Ophelia Ford (who had to
surrender the seat when, amid allegations of election fraud, the Senate voided
her election).
Many were surprised when Brooks, instead of filing again for the state Senate seat, decided to run for the County Commission (she has also raised a few eyebrows by running again, simultaneously, for her House seat).By way of explanation, Brooks professed a desire to work more directly on behalf of inner-city needs. Her decision may also have owed something to a near-tragic mishap last winter. On an icy day, she fell in her back yard and lay unconscious for some 10 hours before, near death, she was discovered by a neighbor, who summoned an ambulance.
Whatever the cause, the Henri Brooks
who recovered from that ordeal (and won a contested primary for the District 2,
Position 2 commission post) has seemed less confrontational and more accessible,
even capable of something resembling charm. An example of that came at this
year’s St. Peter picnic, where she made a point of introducing around “my newest
family member,” a frolicsome dog with an elongated name (“W.E.D. DuBois” was
part of it).
Some of her former baggage remains.
Asked at St. Peter’s how she would handle the pledge-of-allegiance issue on the
commission, she deflected the question on the grounds that she was focusing on
issues relating more directly to district needs. And she still has her critics —
some old, some new, like the Memphis Stonewall Democrats, a gay coalition that
regards Brooks as indifferent, if not an adversary, and has endorsed the
Republican nominee.
That nominee, Novella Smith Arnold,
has an uphill battle, if for no other reason than that District 2 is rock-solid
Democratic in its sympathies. At a recent all-candidates forum, she appeared
after Brooks had made a point of repeating her Democratic affiliation.
When it came Arnold’s time, she rose
and said, “I’m a Martin Luther King Republican,” a reminder that there was a
time when politically conscious African Americans in the South — like the Kings
of Georgia and the Hooks family of Memphis — voted Republican in opposition to
the segregationist Democratic power structure.
Arnold definitely belongs to that
species of Republican, and it is probably true that her support stems as much
from local Democratic sources as from the GOP — a reason why she and her
supporters continue to believe she has a chance in this commission race, the
only seriously contested one besides that between Democrat
Steve Mulroy and Republican Jane Pierotti in
District 5.
Formerly the chaplain at the Shelby
County Jail during the tenure of former sheriff A C Gilless, Arnold, a
pioneer broadcaster in black radio, was temporarily banned from that facility
for reasons having to do with her ministry toward prisoners she felt were being
systematically ignored or mistreated — the mentally ill and HIV/AIDS-afflicted,
especially.
A plucky person of commitment and
humor, Arnold hopes that a coalition of regular Republicans, independent
Democrats, and admirers of old-fashioned social activism add up to an upset win.
But, again, that hill is fairly steep.
More 9th District Profiles
These are the last three 9th District
congressional candidates to get a look-see in this space. Yes, there are a few
others on the ballot, both Democratic and Republican, but those few have been
sufficiently invisible as campaigners as to keep them off our radar screen.
(Damned if we’ll be
the lightning they expect to be hit by!)
• Bill Whitman
is either a throw-back to a previous Democratic Party era, he is a sign of some
shift yet to occur, or he is an irrelevancy in the 9th District congressional
constellation. All three of these formulations could be correct, and there is
yet a fourth possibility, consistent with the first two possibilities but not
the third: Lawyer Whitman, a squeaky-clean ex-Notre Damer with the aura of a
(pre-political) Nader’s Raider, could attract enough attention to grab more than
a few votes in Midtown and East Memphis from presumed ticket-leader Steve Cohen‘s total.
There are still some
Democrats who hearken back to an earlier time, when a Democratic candidate could
be pro-life like Whitman, who is actively and consistently so — opposing both
abortion and the death penalty. Whitman also talks up healthcare and a higher
minimum wage. And the young former Catholic Charities activist, whose sincerity
and idealism are obvious, has spoken well at a variety of forums, laying his
issues on the line without being over-provocative. Moreover, he has campaign
signs, lots of them, along the Poplar corridor and in other white middle-class
pockets.
If there were a congeniality award,
he’d be a contender for it.
• Jesse
Blumenfeld has materialized unexpectedly now and then with hard-core
progressive issues that might attract a following if Cohen, a liberal’s liberal
of established pedigree, weren’t already in the race. But Cohen is in the race, so
Blumenfeld, a self-styled “citizen advocate,” has few places to go to for votes.
Much in the manner of Tyson
Pratcher (a recent dropout), Blumenfeld would have had his potential
constituency spoken for even if he had enough funding and organization to pitch
it some serious woo. But his themes are the kind that warm a progressive’s heart
— renewable energy, “healthcare for all,” disaster preparedness, privacy
advocacy, “economic justice.” He eschews “special interest” money, accepting
only private contributions of $50 or less — which is either high-minded or
making virtue of necessity.
What makes Cohen Cohen, of course, is
not just the issues he advocates — which are anchored here and there with
conservative positions like support for the death penalty and the Second
Amendment — but long and practical experience with the quid pro quos of
government. It’s difficult to see how the Jesse Blumenfelds of the world,
however promising, can get there from here.
•Joe Towns — as in
“Whatever happened to Joe Towns?” For the last decade or so, Towns has
represented District 84 — which comprises a lateral hunk of South Memphis — in
the state House of Representatives. The fact of his being an elected public
official already representing a part of the 9th congressional district (albeit
the merest sliver) should have given him a leg up in the race. But, aside from
his filing and his having appeared at one well-attended public forum, Towns has
done little to suggest that he’s actually running.
Indeed, aside from modest publicity
given his legislative activity during the session that ended in late May (on
behalf of expanding lottery benefits and other measures), Towns’ main notice of
late came from his having been mentioned during the extortion trial of former
state senator Roscoe Dixon.
The good news: bagman Barry
Myers advised his supposed confederates against trying to involve the
independent-minded Towns in illicit activity. The bad news: Myers’ argument,
disingenuous or not, was that Towns lacked the kind of clout that would justify it.
What Towns does have enough clout to
do, along with the various other African-American candidates with established
constituencies, is further carve up a voter base that is already well-sliced.
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