Barack Obama: The Ultimate Community Organizer!

Here is the 1993 Obama article I mentioned and also a link to the actual article...

Side Note: Obama mentions in the article that what first brought him to Chicago in 1984 was Mayor Harold Washington, the first black mayor of Chicago. I remember that election well, being a Chicago native. This was the beginning of my interest in politics and the first vote I ever cast in an election at 18 years old, just months after I became eligible to vote, was a vote for our Mayor Harold Washington. He was truly a beloved figure in Chicago, loved by all races, and was greatly mourned when he passed away from a heart attack just a few months after being re-elected for his second term as mayor.

"When Harold died, the light certainly went out on the movement, and it left a cadaverous darkness. It was not just the passing of a great man, but the passing of a promise. The promise that all people - black, white, hispanic - can rise up and reject the political machine that wanted to maintain the status quo."

Well, maybe the light went out temporarily, but definitely not permanently. Washington was a truly inspirational figure and it does not surprise me in the least that Obama moved to Chicago, a city he had absolutely no connections or contacts in, based solely on the inspiration of Mayor Harold Washington. In some ways, Obama reminds me of Washington especially in regard to his fearlessness and revolutionary spirit. It just goes to show you the life changing influence that one individual can have on another and I have no doubt that the love, respect and inspiration that Washington garnered was an inspiration for why Obama decided to run for elective office himself. In this way, we are ALL blessed by Washington's tremendous legacy and inspiration. We still love you Harold!

A huge black turnout in November 1992 altered Chicago's electoral landscape-and raised a new political star: a 31-year-old lawyer named Barack Obama.

In the final, climactic buildup to November's general election, with George Bush gaining ground on Bill Clinton in Illinois and the once-unstoppable campaign of senatorial candidate Carol Moseley Braun embroiled in allegations about her mother's Medicare liability, one of the most important local stories managed to go virtually unreported: The number of new voter registrations before the election hit an all-time high. And the majority of those new voters were black. More than 150,000 new African-American voters were added to the city's rolls. In fact, for the first time in Chicago's history-including the heyday of Harold Washington-voter registrations in the 19 predominantly black wards outnumbered those in the city's 19 predominantly white ethnic wards, 676,000 to 526,000.

The election, to some degree, turned on these totals: Braun and Clinton had almost unanimous support among blacks. But just as important, if less obvious, are the implications black votership could have for future city and state elections: For the first time in ten years, more than half a million blacks went to the polls in Chicago. And with gubernatorial and mayoral elections coming up in the next two years, it served notice to every¬one from Jim Edgar to Richard M. Daley that an African-American voting bloc would be a force to be reckoned with in those races.

None of this, of course, was accidental. The most effective minority voter registration drive in memory was the result of careful handiwork by Project Vote!, the local chapter of a not-for-profit national organization. "It was the most efficient campaign I have seen in my 20 years in politics," says Sam Burrell, alderman of the West Side's 29th Ward and a veteran of many registration drives.

At the head of this effort was a little-known 31-year-old African-American lawyer, community organizer, and writer: Barack Obama. The son of a black Kenyan political activist and a white American anthropologist, Obama was born in Hawaii, received a degree in political science and English literature from Columbia University, and, in 1990, became the first black editor of the Harvard Law Review. In 1984, after Columbia but before Harvard, Obama moved to Chicago. "I came because of Harold Washington," he says. "I wanted to do community organizing, and I couldn't think of a better city than one as energized and hopeful as Chicago was then." He went to work for a South Side church-affiliated development group and "was heartened by the enthusiasm." But barely three years later, Washington died, and Obama, convinced he needed additional skills, enrolled at Harvard Law School. The African-American community he left, rent by political divisions and without a clear leader, went into a steep decline. By 1991, when Obama, law degree in hand, returned to Chicago to work on a book about race relations-having turned his back on the Supreme Court clerkship that is almost a given for the law review's top editor-black voter registration and turnout in the city were at their lowest points since record keeping began.

Six months after he took the helm of Chicago's Project Vote!, those conditions had been reversed.

* * *

To understand the full implications of Obama's effort, you first need to understand how voter registration often has worked in Chicago. The Regular Democratic Party spearheaded most drives, doing so using one primary motivator: money. The party would offer bounties to registrars for every new voter they signed up (typically a dollar per registration). The campaigns did produce new voters. "But bounty systems don't really promote participation," says David Orr, the Cook County clerk, whose office is responsible for voter registration efforts in the Cook County suburbs. "When the money dries up, the voters drop out." Nor did the Democratic Party always vigorously push registration among minorities, Orr says. "It's not that they discouraged it. They just never worked hard to ensure it would happen."

All of that changed with the ascension of Harold Washington. In the months just prior to his 1983 Democratic primary win, 120,000 new black voters were registered, most by registrars who received no bounty.

Off in Washington, D.C., those efforts were scrutinized with great interest by the founder of a new voter-registration organization. Sandy Newman, a lawyer and civil-rights activist, had founded Project Vote! the year before to promote registra¬tion among low-income and minority voters. At the time, his operation was still centered in the nation's capital, pioneering such now-commonplace practices as registering people at food-stamp and welfare offices. While Project Vote! was indi¬rectly involved in the Harold Washington registration effort, donating money to the black wards' voter-registration drives, it did not start a branch in Chicago. "The group already at work there was fine," Newman says. "We decided to support them with funds, rather than compete with them." Even after the minority-registration effort in Chicago fell apart following the death of Washington, Project Vote! opted to avoid Illinois. "The Democratic Party in Cook County was still actively using a bounty system for most registrations," Newman says, "and we didn't wish to get associated with that."

* * *

Carol Moseley Braun's upset primary victory over Alan Dixon last March altered Newman's feelings. "It's not that I wanted to influence the Senate race," Newman says. "Project Vote! is nonpartisan, strictly nonpartisan. But we do focus our efforts on minority voters, and on states where we can explain to them why their vote will matter. Braun made that easier in Illinois." So Newman decided to open a Cook County Project Vote! office and went looking for someone to head it.

The name Barack Obama surfaced. "I was asking around among community activists in Chicago and around the country, and they kept mentioning him," Newman says. Obama by then was working with church and community leaders on the West Side, and he was writing a book that the publisher Simon & Schuster had contracted for while he was editor of the law review. He was 30 years old.

When Newman called, Obama agreed to put his other work aside. "I'm still not quite sure why," Newman says. ''This was not glamorous, high-paying work. But I am certainly grateful. He did one hell of a job."

Within a few months, Obama, a tall, affable workaholic, had recruited staff and volunteers from black churches, community groups, and politicians. He helped train 700 deputy registrars, out of a total of 11,000 citywide. And he began a saturation media campaign with the help of black-owned Brainstorm Communications. (The company's president, Terri Gardner, is the sister of Gary Gardner, president of Soft Sheen Products, Inc., which donated thousands of dollars to Project Voters efforts.) The group's slogan-"It's a Power Thing"-was ubiquitous in African-American neighborhoods. Posters were put up. Black-oriented radio stations aired the group's ads and announced where people could go to register. Minority owners of McDonald's restaurants allowed registrars on site and donated paid radio time to Project Vote! Labor unions provided funding, as, in late fall, did the Clin¬ton/Gore campaign, whose national voter-registration drive was being directed by Chicago alderman Bobby Rush.

"It was overwhelming," says Joseph Gardner, a commissioner of the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District and the director of the steering committee for Project Vote! "The black community in this city had not been so energized and so single-minded since Harold died."

Burrell agrees. "We were registering hundreds a day, and we weren't having to search them out. They came looking for us. African Americans were just so eager to have a say again, to feel they counted."

"I think it's fair to say we reinvigorated a slumbering constituency," says Obama. "We got people to take notice."

* * *

The question now, of course, is what lasting impact Project Voters efforts will have on Chicago and Illinois politics. Joseph Gardner says it will be considerable. "In this town, numbers talk," he says. "Who can afford to ignore 600,000 voters?" He says he is confident turnout among black voters in Chicago will remain at nearly that level during future elections. "We tasted victory in November. It was intoxicating. We won't go back to being silent."

Other observers are more skeptical. "Turnout was high because of Braun and because people, especially minorities, were so angry and ready for change at a national level," Orr says. "It's not likely we'll see the same levels in local elections."

One Daley insider says the Mayor took particular note of the increase in black participation. "How could he not? But does that mean he starts looking over his shoulder for a rising black political star to run against him? No." Before his 1989 victory, the Mayor received contributions from many black-owned businesses and black voters. "I think he's pretty comfortable with his support among blacks," this insider says. "But he's not complacent. Look what happened to Al Dixon."

As for Project Vote! itself, its operations in Chicago have officially closed down. Barack Obama has returned to work on his book, which he plans to complete this month. He also is teaching a class at the University of Chicago law school, and is an attorney at Davis Miner Barnhill & Galland. But he continues to consult with the church, community, and political groups involved in the monumental registration drive. "We won't let the momentum die," he says. "I'll take personal responsibility for that. We plan to hold politicians' feet to the flames in 1993, to remind them that we can produce a bloc of voters large enough that it cannot be ignored."

Nor can Obama himself be ignored. The success of the voter-registration drive has marked him as the political star the Mayor should perhaps be watching for. "The sky's the limit for Barack," says Burrell.

Some of Daley's closest advisers are similarly impressed. "In its technical demands, a voter-registration drive is not unlike a mini-political campaign," says John Schmidt, chairman of the Metropolitan Pier and Exposition Authority and a fundraiser for Project Vote! "Barack ran this superbly. I have no doubt he could run an equally good political campaign if that's what he decided to do next."

Obama shrugs off the possibility of running for office. "Who knows?" he says. "But probably not immediately." He smiles. "Was that a sufficiently politic 'maybe'? My sincere answer is, I'll run if I feel I can accomplish more that way than agitating from the outside. I don't know if that's true right now. Let's wait and see what happens in 1993. If the politicians in place now at city and state levels respond to African-American voters' needs, we'll gladly work with and support them. If they don't, we'll work to replace them. That's the message I want Project Vote! to have sent."

Here is a link to the actual article:

http://tinyurl.com/37mw2h

Also, this excellent 15 minute segment from the PBS Series Frontline titled, "The Choice 2008", weaves together Obama's community organizing past, the Chicago political dynamics, including Mayor Harold Washington, and also showed early on Obama's aversion to adhering to ideology, (aka left and right politics)...something many are just now coming to terms with. This is a brilliant piece! Check it out here:

http://tinyurl.com/4ft9ws

Mayor Harold Washington: 7 Days That Shook Chicago

Confusion And Uncertainty Take Over After Mayor's Death, But 20 Years Later He Remains Beloved

November 24, 2007

CHICAGO (CBS) ― On a sunny day in November 1988, Bill Kurtis and Walter Jacobson stood before the grave of Mayor Harold Washington at Oak Woods Cemetery on the city's South Side to examine the troubled year Chicago had seen without him. It had been a year since church bells had tolled in the midst of that gray and rainy Chicago afternoon, signaling the mayor's death.

It signaled an end of a political era, and the beginning of a year of social turmoil, upheaval, confusion, and racial tension that had not been seen in many years. That year began with seven days after the mayor's death, which literally changed the course of the city's political history.

Mayor Washington died as he was just reaching the height of his political power, and he had moved quickly to consolidate it. His adversaries were on the run, and he appeared to be in control of Chicago's destiny.

But with the mayor's death, the city's future seemed to be spinning out of control. Confusion reigned at City Hall, and while Chicagoans mourned Mayor Washington's passing in the lobby, the politicians and the elected officials just one floor up in City Council chambers began a wild scramble to fill his shoes.

For the seven days following Washington's death, whispered rumors of would-be successors filled newspaper columns and television screens. Washington supporters huddled and mapped their strategy for holding onto the power of the mayor's office, while his adversaries plotted one last time to grab it for themselves.

Finally, it all culminated in one of the wildest City Council meetings ever held in Chicago.

The day after the mayor died, Thanksgiving Day 1987, a tearful mayor's chief of staff Ernest Barefield announced the mayor's memorial services, while Ald. David Orr (49th), now Cook County Clerk, agreed to serve until an acting mayor was selected by the aldermen.

The public memorial services for the mayor followed on Friday, Nov. 27.

By Saturday, Nov. 28, battle lines were being lain within City Council chambers. Those who had supported Washington wanted Ald. Timothy Evans (4th) to take over as acting mayor, while other aldermen wanted Ald, Eugene Sawyer (6th). Both aldermen were African-American, but Evans' backers argued that those who were pushing Sawyer represented the Democratic machine and the 29 aldermen who had fought Mayor Washington in the Council Wars.

The Rev. Jesse Jackson was one of Evans' backers.

"There's a spark in Tim Evans that has mass appeal," Jackson said.

Some aldermen saw this as an attempt at kingmaking.

"I don't think the people of Chicago should have their next mayor picked at O'Hare Field, or at Operation PUSH, or at a bungalow or anywhere else," said Ald. Edward Burke (14th).

On Nov. 30, Washington's eulogy said it was "no time for power-brokering, no time for king-making, no time for ego trips, no time for self-serving agendas or hungry power grabs."

But the following day, a power struggle was in full swing in City Council chambers, nearly all through the night. Demonstrators gathered outside City Hall, shouting the late mayor's name and chanting, "Down with Sawyer!" The demonstrators swelled to the point where police shut down LaSalle Street outside City Hall.

Inside City Council chambers, the two factions went through hours of political maneuvering and parliamentary stonewalling. Unlike the Council Wars, the divisions did not break down along racial lines. Members of the mayor's own coalition were in many instances fighting amongst themselves.

Ald. Danny Davis (29th), now in Congress, called Evans "very studious, very careful, very thoughtful, very analytical. It's kind of like the Allstate slogan. You're in good hands with Tim."

But Ald. Anna Langford (16th) said: "The mayor would want us to proceed to include all of the people of the City of Chicago – not just the blacks, not just the browns, not just the whites, but all of the people of the City of Chicago," before nominating Sawyer.

Ald. Dorothy Tillman (3rd) said backing Sawyer was tantamount to backing the 29 aldermen who had fought Washington in the Council Wars.

"Those of you who have joined forces with the 29, don't do it! Don't do it!" Tillman said.

But Ald. William Henry (24th) said Sawyer was the person who would bring the city together.

"We don't need any rhetoric! We need a man that's going to come to work. We need a person that can go across the city. We need somebody that can bring us together," Henry said. "Gene Sawyer is that man."

And Ald. Richard Mell (33rd) addressed his fellow aldermen standing on his desk.

Finally, Sawyer won, receiving 29 votes to Evans' 19. He was sworn in around 4 a.m. Dec. 2. But the turmoil didn't end there.

Division And Tension
When Sawyer took office as acting mayor, a number of Washington's top advisers were fired. Evans lost his chairmanship of the City Council finance committee. Several other aldermen who did not support Sawyer also lost committee chairmanships – Davis, Tillman, Larry Bloom, Luis Gutierrez, Jesus Garcia, and Bobby Rush had all been former insiders in Washington's administration and had backed Evans. All were forced out of chairmanships.

Sawyer said reorganizing the Council was essential to complete the unfinished work of Harold Washington.

"I'm concerned in the neighborhood development is held up by an alderman, when the people want to move on the development of the community; they want to clean out the filth and the abandoned buildings, and they're not getting any help on that," Sawyer said, "and as the mayor of this city, I'm going to make sure they get that help; I'm going to go out in that neighborhood, talk to people, continue to do that wherever I see it happening."

But Evans compared Sawyer to a machine politician.

"Harold Washington considered himself to be mayor of all the people, and so it was a great and glorious time to be on the inside," Evans said. "But now those who would attempt to pull us back to the old days when there was machine domination; when the insiders somehow made provisions for their friends and cronies, it's better to be on the outside than to be in the administration."

The city's African-American community was divided without a leader in Washington. Sawyer, Evans, and Danny Davis were all planning to run for mayor in 1989, and political activist Lu Palmer said without anyone to act as the glue to hold the reform movement together, he feared "political catastrophe."

Meanwhile, as the City Council that Mayor Washington had brought together was divided, so became many of the city's people. Long-simmering racial tension among black and white Chicagoans spilled over into ugly confrontations. One of the most infamous happened at the Art Institute of Chicago, in the spring of 1988.