INTRODUCTION

A LONG FIGHT AHEAD

We have a long fight and this FIGHT is not mine alone. But you are not free whether you are white or black, until I am free. Because no man is an island to himself. And until I’m free in Mississippi, you are not free in Washington; you are not free in New York.

—FANNIE LOU HAMER1

I still remember the very first time I heard about Fannie Lou Hamer. It was in spring 2008, when I was a senior at Binghamton University, and I was taking a course on the American civil rights movement. The professor had assigned readings on Hamer, including interviews and a speech Hamer delivered in the 1960s. I was blown away by what I read and couldn’t help wondering why it had taken me so long to encounter this fearless and extraordinary Black woman. The more I learned about Hamer’s life and her political vision, however, it became clear to me why she hadn’t received the same level of attention and acclaim as so many others: she didn’t reflect the public’s memory of the civil rights movement. Mainstream historical narratives on Black social movements, then and now, privilege the ideas and political activities of men. Most Americans connect the civil rights movement and Black Power era with Black men such as Martin Luther King Jr., John Lewis, and Malcolm X, to mention a few. And when Black women leaders enter the conversation, the focus tends to be on the same prominent figures, such as Rosa Parks, Coretta Scott King, and Angela Davis. Needless to say, these trailblazing leaders have all fundamentally shaped American society; their work and lives should be deeply studied. However, the historical record is far richer and more interesting than many realize, including a diverse array of activists and leaders from different classes and all walks of life.

Fannie Lou Hamer’s story captures the contributions of a Black woman sharecropper with limited formal education and limited material resources—but an all-consuming passion for social justice. Born in Mississippi on October 6, 1917, Hamer was the youngest of twenty children. The granddaughter of enslaved people, Hamer worked as a sharecropper for much of her life—a brutal practice, closely mirroring the rhythms of slavery in the United States. From sunup to sundown, Hamer and her family cultivated cotton on a local plantation, expanding the fortunes of the white landowners as the Hamer family sank deeper and deeper into debt. At the tender age of twelve, she concluded her studies at a local schoolhouse so she could help her family meet their growing financial pressures. Still, they remained trapped in poverty—the result of the exploitative nature of the sharecropping system and the violence used to maintain it. The difficulties of Hamer’s childhood extended well into adulthood when she struggled to make ends meet. Despite her limited material resources and the various challenges she endured as a Black woman living in poverty in Mississippi, Hamer committed herself to making a difference in the lives of others.

Her life changed dramatically in 1962. At age forty-four, she attended a mass meeting at a local church in Sunflower County, Mississippi, organized by activists in the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), an interracial civil rights organization. The meeting started her on the path to becoming a voting rights activist. Deeply moved by the words of the young SNCC activists that evening, Hamer learned of her constitutional rights as a citizen of the United States—she later said it was the first time she learned she had the right to vote. That year, Hamer became a field secretary for SNCC and worked to assist Black residents in Mississippi with voter registration. Activists in SNCC later praised Hamer for the role she played in amplifying their work and keeping them focused on accomplishing their goals. “As for the SNCC part of her continuing movement life, she kept us on track,” members of the SNCC legacy project noted. “It was not difficult for a group of young people, like we were then, to sometimes stumble off course; she kept us focused on doing what was right. She commanded our respect as well as our love.”2

When she joined the civil rights movement in 1962, Hamer decided to dedicate her time and talents to the betterment of Black people and other marginalized groups. In the years to follow, she launched a number of initiatives aimed at expanding voting rights as well as addressing racism and inequality in her community and across the nation. Working alongside SNCC activists, Hamer spearheaded voter education workshops in the South, facilitated voter registration drives, and participated in marches and sit-ins throughout the region.³ Her efforts to expand voting rights for Black people in the South drew the ire of many, especially local white supremacists who attempted to impede her political work at every turn. From the moment she joined the civil rights movement, Hamer became a target of violence, harassment, and intimidation. By extension, her loved ones also became the targets of local law enforcement. In one instance, Hamer’s husband, Perry (“Pap”), was arrested and jailed. Local police also targeted one of Hamer’s daughters, who was arrested in 1963.⁴ Hamer was also harassed for a water bill in the amount of $9,000, even though the Hamers had no running water at the time. And on one occasion, local police officers barged into her home—all the way to her and Pap’s bedroom—in the wee hours of the morning, waving guns and flashlights, with a litany of questions about her personal affairs.

These incidents went beyond intimidation when Hamer endured a brutal beating in Winona, Mississippi, in 1963. In June of that year, Hamer was traveling back home with fellow activists after attending a voters’ workshop in South Carolina. They decided to stop in Winona to grab a bite to eat. What was supposed to be a quick rest stop became one of the most harrowing experiences of Hamer’s life. The owners of the restaurant refused to serve Black patrons. Then, from the bus, Hamer noticed police officers shoving her friends into their patrol cars. Within minutes of exiting the bus, Hamer was grabbed by an officer who began violently kicking her. Later at the police station, officers, aided by prisoners, unleashed a brutal beating on Hamer, which left her with permanent scars and physically disabled.

Despite the painful and traumatic experiences, Hamer refused to be thrown off her mission. As activist Dorothy Height, president of the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW), once remarked, Hamer “turned all of her own suffering into freedom and justice for her people.”5 In the aftermath of the 1963 Winona beating, Hamer amplified her political work, determined to transform American society through an expansion of Black voting rights. Hamer not only helped to register voters but also empowered others by entering the realm of electoral politics. In 1964, one year after she successfully registered to vote for the first time, Hamer ran for a seat in the US House of Representatives to challenge white Mississippi Democrat Jamie Whitten, who was seeking a thirteenth term. Although her chances of winning were slim, she explained to a reporter, “I’m showing people that a Negro can run for office.”⁶ With a limited budget, Hamer ran a spirited campaign backed by a coalition of civil rights organizations, promising to tackle the issues of poverty and hunger. Unsuccessful in her first bid for Congress that year, Hamer went on to run for office twice more—ever committed to the idea that electoral politics and public service could help overturn decades of unjust laws and policies in the United States.

One of the things that stood out to me when I first learned about Hamer was her unique ability to speak to the heart of any issue. Her demeanor and approach cut directly to the core of the problems facing Americans, without ever tiptoeing around an issue or worrying about anyone’s feelings or comfort level. Those who had the great fortune to hear Hamer speak left her presence completely transformed. Civil rights activist Eleanor Holmes Norton, with whom Hamer organized during the 1960s, described Hamer as “an unbelievably brilliant orator and conceptualizer. . . . [Y]ou’ve never heard a room flying [like one] Fannie Lou set afire,” Norton explained.⁷ After Hamer spoke, Norton added, those who were listening “never needed to hear anyone else speak [on the issue] again.”⁸

Hamer’s passion and candidness forced those around her to look deep within themselves—to acknowledge their failings and often their own prejudices. She was unafraid to publicly condemn those who perpetuated injustice and did not shy away from acknowledging societal ills and demanding more from public officials. She even challenged civil rights leaders and allies in the struggle, pointing out their inconsistencies and the moments when they were too complacent. Responding to those who insisted on gradualism—waiting for the “right” moment to secure Black rights and liberation—Hamer looked to history as her guide. “For three hundred years,” she explained, “we’ve given them [white people] time. And I’ve been tired so long,” she continued, “now I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. We want a change in this society in America,” she added.9

Hamer’s political work was motivated by her Christian faith. She believed that God was on her side and favored everyone fighting for the rights and equality of Black people. But she also understood that faith alone could not bring an end to racial injustice in this country. And faith alone could not dismantle white supremacy.¹⁰ Combining faith with action, Hamer fought to secure the rights and liberation of Black people and all oppressed groups. Hamer’s fiery resolve to improve American society left a lasting, positive mark on all who crossed her path. Heather Booth, a young white volunteer who met Hamer in Ruleville, Mississippi, during the 1960s, recalled the impact Hamer had on her life: “While I was a very young volunteer, and so inexperienced in the reality of Mississippi, she treated me and the other volunteers on an equal footing—neither above nor below her in respect. And by doing so, modeled how we each can treat each other. And showed us how to center ourselves in morality to do the right thing.”¹¹

Hamer’s boldness and radical honesty were on full display in August 1964, when she spoke before a televised audience at the Democratic National Convention in Atlantic City, New Jersey. She had traveled all the way from Mississippi on behalf of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party (MFDP)—an organization she helped establish in April 1964 to challenge the all-white Mississippi delegation. Hamer’s televised speech, delivered before millions, addressed two central issues that remain relevant in contemporary Black political discourse: voter suppression and state-sanctioned violence. First, she addressed the issue of Black voting rights. She told the story of how when she went down to the courthouse in Indianola, Mississippi, to attempt to register to vote in 1962, she was confronted by one roadblock after another. When she returned home that evening, the owner of the plantation where she worked as a sharecropper gave her an ultimatum: “If you don’t go down and withdraw your registration, you will have to leave.” And leave she did.

In her speech before the Democratic National Convention, Hamer went on to describe the persistent acts of racist violence Black people faced on a daily basis in the Jim Crow South. She told the stories of shots being fired at the homes of those who supported her stance on voting. And then she told the story of her own experiences with state-sanctioned violence—she recounted the details of the severe beating she received in that Winona jail cell in 1963.12 As she reflected on her own painful experiences and the experiences of other Black people in the South, Hamer could not help but to “question America.” “Is this America,” she asked as tears welled up in her eyes, “the land of the free and the home of the brave, where we have to sleep with our telephones off of the hooks because our lives be threatened daily, because we want to live as decent human beings, in America?” These crucial words shook the nation to its core. Hamer had asked a poignant question that all Americans were forced to ponder. If Americans claimed to be committed to the ideals of “liberty and justice for all,” then Hamer’s testimony laid bare the full extent of American hypocrisy.

Those who heard the speech, either in person or on television, were transformed by its power. Although the speech made Hamer an instant celebrity, it was but one of the many moving and dynamic speeches she delivered during the 1960s and ’70s. Those who worked alongside her on a daily basis and those who lived in her community witnessed the full extent of Hamer’s work, extending far beyond that one televised speech. Indeed, Hamer set out to touch the lives of everyone she encountered, never turning away a person in need—regardless of their race. She loved people, and that love propelled Hamer to dedicate her life and her resources, no matter how small, to improving the lives of the people in Sunflower County. And she connected the fight on the ground in the Mississippi Delta with the struggle of people all over the world who sought to overcome the politics of hate with love.

Love for others guided her political activism and provided the impetus for her decision to undertake several initiatives during her lifetime. As she once explained, “Freedom is in my soul and love is in my heart.”13 During the late 1960s, she launched the Freedom Farm Cooperative, a community-based rural project, to tackle poverty in Mississippi and advance economic empowerment. As someone whose life had been deeply affected by hunger and poverty, Hamer envisioned Freedom Farm as a response to the hunger and poverty that ran rampant in Sunflower County. Hamer also continued her national advocacy, including her valuable contributions to the women’s rights movement. A victim of sexual and medical abuse, Hamer turned her pain into political action, becoming the first civil rights activist to publicly speak out against forced sterilizations. Although she did not identify as a feminist, Hamer firmly believed in women’s empowerment and advocated for women’s representation in electoral politics. In 1971, she joined forces with a diverse group of women, including feminist leader Gloria Steinem and US congresswoman Shirley Chisholm, to establish the National Women’s Political Caucus (NWPC), with whom she worked to expand women’s political participation at the local, state, and national levels.

Although Hamer was deeply committed to securing political rights for Black people in the United States, she was also a vocal champion in the struggle for human rights. She recognized that the challenges Black Americans encountered were inextricably linked to freedom struggles abroad. Throughout her political career, she also saw how global developments shaped American life and culture. She supported African liberation movements, and long before many other civil rights activists addressed the issue, Hamer boldly condemned American involvement in the Vietnam War. Her position on Vietnam, and her overall critique of American foreign policy during the 1960s and ’70s, underscored her expansive vision of freedom. By linking national concerns to global ones, Hamer compelled others to see the value of forging transnational political collaborations in order to effectively build a more just and equal society.

These are just some of the highlights of Fannie Lou Hamer’s extraordinary life and activism. Her political career was comparatively short—only fifteen years—but immensely impactful. From the moment she joined the civil rights movement at age forty-four to her passing at the age of fifty-nine, Hamer accomplished more than most people manage to accomplish in a lifetime—and she did so with few material resources. Despite humble beginnings and limited formal education, Hamer refused to be sidelined in the movement and refused to be intimidated by those of higher social status and with better jobs and education. She knew her leadership and intellectual contributions were valuable, and she lived with a clear sense of purpose—to make a better life for herself and others. Yet her life experiences grounded her in reality—she never imagined a better future without a clear plan of action. And she maintained hope that America could one day live up to its promise and its ideals.

Even those who never met Hamer in person were transformed by her words as well as her deeds. This is certainly true for me. My intellectual encounter with Hamer during my early twenties changed the course of my life. Though I had already resolved to become a historian of the Black experience—with plans to one day write books that would center the diverse voices of individuals from all walks of life—I constantly battled self-doubt. As a first-generation college student from a family of modest means, I questioned the quality of what I had to offer. My desire to make a difference in society seemed completely displaced from the reality of my material circumstances. Hamer’s powerful example bolstered my sense of purpose and desire to make a meaningful difference in the lives of others. And through her example, I learned to think less about what I don’t have and instead focus on what I do have and how it can best be of use in the service of others. Hamer also taught me the value of straightforward dialogue—the need to always be direct about the challenges we’re facing as a nation, especially about issues of race and racism. Above all, she taught me the importance of using my voice as a Black woman in America to call out injustice wherever I see it. Her story and the lessons she taught through her words and example provide a model for how I approach the ongoing fight for human rights.

Since I first encountered Hamer in a college course on the civil rights movement, I have thought often about how she would respond to many of the challenges we’re facing in the United States. In truth, there has been little change since the 1960s and ’70s. While there is much to celebrate about the achievements we have made as a nation—including the dismantling of Jim Crow and the expansion of Black voting rights—many of the roadblocks Hamer encountered in her lifetime continue to shape the lives of Black people in the United States today. Economic inequality remains a challenge in Hamer’s hometown of Ruleville, Mississippi, with more than 40 percent of the population living below the poverty line—the majority of whom are Black and Latinx residents.14 And despite the expansion of voting rights in the state, no African American candidate has been elected to statewide office since 1890.¹⁵ Hamer’s fight lives on today as Black people in the United States continue to face many of the same challenges she fought so vigorously to correct.

Despite the many political gains and triumphs over the years, racism and white supremacy persist in all aspects of American life and culture. Since the passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act, which upheld Black Americans’ right to vote as guaranteed by the Fifteenth Amendment of the US Constitution, a number of state and local laws have worked in tandem to curtail these rights. Moreover, the systemic problem of police violence and brutality in Black communities across the nation mirrors the pervasive lynchings of the Jim Crow era. These realities, combined with other social problems such as hunger, poverty, and economic inequality, continue to plague American society, and in so doing, threaten American democracy. The defining feature of Hamer’s political vision was her belief that the United States could indeed live up to its ideals. Even as she held some amount of skepticism, Hamer never lost hope that the nation could in fact one day be transformed—it would require a lot of work and it would take some time, but it was possible. Through individual and collective effort, Americans committed to social justice could build an inclusive democracy that lived up to the promises of the US Constitution.

This was the message she passionately conveyed in a 1967 speech before members of a local NCNW chapter in Mississippi. “We have a long fight and this fight is not mine alone,” she explained. “But you are not free whether you are white or black, until I am free. Because no man is an island to himself. And until I’m free in Mississippi, you are not free in Washington; you are not free in New York.”¹⁶ Her remarks underscored how the fate of Black people in the United States was—and still is—connected to all Americans, regardless of race, class, or even location. America’s mistreatment of and disregard for Black people in Mississippi, Hamer argued, signaled the nation’s failure to live up to its promises. And this failure was one that fundamentally shaped the lives of everyone on US soil. The societal problems that hampered Black life were concerns that all Americans had to face—whether they wanted to confront those issues or not.

In Hamer’s framing, no one could truly experience freedom if others in that society were constrained. She reiterated this message on a number of occasions, underscoring the danger of being complicit in the face of injustice. “Until I am free,” she boldly told the mostly white audience members at the University of Wisconsin in 1971, “you are not either.”17 In so many ways, Hamer’s words are timeless. They speak to the current moment and offer hope and guidance for those of us who are committed to social justice today, as they did for freedom fighters during the 1960s and ’70s.

That’s why I decided to write this book. Until I Am Free centers Hamer’s ideas and political philosophies to demonstrate how they speak to our current moment. It posits that Hamer’s insights and political strategies during the 1960s and ’70s provide a blueprint for tackling a range of contemporary social issues. A blend of social commentary, biography, and intellectual history, Until I Am Free draws from an array of sources—including Hamer’s speeches and oral and written interviews, films, historical newspapers, and archival material—to illuminate Hamer’s perspectives on several prescient and interconnected themes: race and racism; social justice; voting rights and voter suppression; internationalism and human rights; state-sanctioned violence; leadership and activism; economic inequality; and women’s rights. Until I Am Free builds on a rich and ever-growing body of research and writing on Hamer to highlight some—but certainly not all—aspects of her life’s story to understand the influences, forces, and developments that shaped her thinking and political vision.¹⁸ In these pages, Hamer’s words and ideas take center stage, allowing us all to hear the activist’s voice and deeply engage with her words as though we had the privilege to sit right beside her.

What might we learn, and how might our society change, if we simply listened to Fannie Lou Hamer? Until I Am Free grapples with this question. It is a manifesto, deeply rooted in history, for anyone committed to social justice. The book challenges us all to listen to a working-poor and disabled Black woman activist and intellectual from the past as we confront contemporary concerns, many of which consumed Hamer’s mind during her lifetime. More than forty years since Hamer’s death, her words still speak truth to power, laying bare the faults in American society and offering valuable insights on how we might yet continue the fight to help the nation live up to its core ideals of “equality and justice for all.” In the spirit of Hamer, Until I Am Free takes as its premise that our histories and experiences may be different, but our fates are deeply intertwined. Try as we might, we cannot disentangle ourselves from the concerns of others who make up this diverse nation. The work of democracy is incomplete, but the fight is certainly not over. As Hamer reiterated time and time again, we still have the power to make these ideals a reality. Our individual futures, as well as our collective future, in the United States depend on it. We must keep pushing for change. We have a long fight ahead.