Robert Reich: Freedom Summer 2026
Robert Reich shares an idea for hope in a shocking season of gerrymandering. Win anyway, by registering voters. Michelle Obama would say “we go high”:
Friends,
Yesterday I spoke with Tennessee state representative Justin Jones, one of the nation’s young Black leaders who’s been a rising star in Tennessee politics, about the Supreme Court’s shameful April 29 decision in Louisiana v. Callais, gutting Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act.
Jones told me that, at Trump’s urging, Tennessee Republicans had prepared a redistricting map even before the Court announced its decision. Then, despite pleas from Black voters and voting rights advocates, the white Republican legislators moved their meeting to another room without allowing the public in to watch, passed the new map out of committee, and enacted it within 24 hours.
The new map has eliminated Tennessee’s one remaining Democratic district around Memphis, a city of about 610,000 people, about two-thirds of whom are Black — by cracking it into three majority-white district, one stretching hundreds of miles. The map has also divided Nashville, another city with a Black majority, into five white-majority districts.
Jones described Tennessee house speaker Cameron Sexton as the “grand wizard in chief,” explaining that “that’s what they want to do. They want to create a process that is unfair and unequal.”
Other Southern states have joined Tennessee’s rush to redistrict.
Louisiana’s governor has ordered that the state’s ongoing congressional election be set aside while state lawmakers redraw maps to eliminate a Democratic-majority – that is, a Black-majority – seat covering Baton Rouge.
At Trump’s request, Alabama Republicans have approved legislation directing the governor to schedule new primary elections this year under a GOP-friendly map that would end districts represented by Black lawmakers, if courts lift an injunction on its redistricting.
The Mississippi legislature will soon convene in a Confederate-era capitol building that it hasn’t used in 100 years, presumably to eliminate the Democratic majority in the one Mississippi district held by a Black representative.
South Carolina’s Republican majority in the statehouse voted Wednesday to extend its legislative calendar, allowing time to consider whether they should eliminate the state’s sole Democratic-majority, Black-majority district, held by long-serving representative James Clyburn.
Florida was already in a special redistricting session when the Supreme Court announced its decision, enacting a congressional map for its 28 districts that packs Black and brown voters into four districts on the south Florida coast and Orlando, eliminating every other Democratic majority.
“We’re going backwards at warp speed,” Jones told me. “In just over a week, we’ve gone from the 1965 Voting Rights Act back to the era of Jim Crow.”
I asked him what he and other Black political leaders in the South were planning to do.
“There’ll be a lot of litigation,” he said, “but we can’t be optimistic with this Supreme Court.”
“So, what’s the strategy?”
“We need the biggest voter turnout in history this fall. Every Black person, every Brown person, every Democrat, everyone who cares about the moral soul of this nation has to vote for equal voting rights. Take over Congress. Increase our power in state legislatures. This is the only way to respond.”
“I’m with you,” I said, “but I really wonder whether that’s possible.”
“How about a new Freedom Summer?” Jones responded, with a smile. “A multi-racial force of young people fanning out across the South, registering voters, getting them to the polls, just like they did in 1964.”
“I remember. I lost a dear friend in Mississippi Freedom Summer.”
“I have no direct memory, of course,” Jones said. “I was born in 1995, thirty-one years after Freedom Summer. But the South is almost back to where it was then. So, yes, it’s possible. It’s got to be possible.”
I told him I’d share his idea with you, and ask you for your responses.
If His Lips Are Moving – He’s Lying
Our Old Testament reading this morning is from Leviticus, that ancient book of do’s and don’ts tha tpeople cherry pick even today, even after Jesus came to clear up our misconceptions and told us many of these rules were not God-given, but man made, traditional customs.
Leviticus 19:
33 When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. 34The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.
35 You shall not cheat in measuring length, weight, or quantity. 36You shall have honest balances, honest weights, an honest ephah, and an honest hin: I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt. 37You shall keep all my statutes and all my ordinances, and observe them: I am the Lord.
But Welcoming the Stranger is a theme throughout the book. Not cheating. Telling the truth. These rules don’t change.
Often when I don’t write, it’s because I am stunned into silence. I don’t care whether you believe as I do or not – worldwide, people share some basic beliefs because they help us survive. Kindness to one another. Compassion, even to those we might not like much. Humanity in our dealings with one another, dealing with one another straight up, giving an honest measure – often even a little more, a “bakers dozen” of 13, an extra inch of fabric, a good measure.
I knew a woman I privately considered as dishonest, and one night we were discussing the love of money as the root of evil in a group, and she said she never considered money her own, that it is God’s money, flowing through her as a conduit, going where it is meant to be.
I told AdventureMan when I got home, and he liked it, too. We decided to tip generously, to let our excess flow through our fingers, trusting God to put it where it is needed, and we would have no idea. We’ve never regretted that philosophy.
I fear for our world. I fear for the selfishness and greed putting our world at risk. I fear that the pulling back of environmental restrictions will impact on our ability as human beings to continue to live on earth. I picture Octavia Butler’s enclaves of the ultra rich while the rest of us scrabble for scraps in a world where rich and poor are breathing bad air, sweating in tropical heat and where plague and filth become common because we no longer invest in public health.
The “Truth” our leader speaks changes, not even daily, but sometimes within an hour, within 15 minutes. It’s not a War? When missiles are still destroying innocent lives? When ships cannot pass freely through a waterway that has been unguarded and open for years? When we pour the life blood of our country into guarding a war we never chose, and pulling our troops out of countries who for over half a century have been allied in creating widespread wealth, and a better world.
I gasp at his audacity, telling his citizens that a legal election was not a legal election, and that his own attempts to meddle in election results never happened, or was not illegal, or whatever the lie is today, or in his most recent speech. His truth changes according to his imagination, and he goes after those who expose his untruths.
Do you remember the wall that the Mexicans would pay for? Now we have a billion dollar ballroom, a monument to gilded vanity, that was touted as built by wealthy donors, but he is handing taxpayers the bill. The taxpayers who will pay are the same ones who have recently given up health care insurance they can no longer afford, or the dream of home ownership, or the dream of sending their first generation of American citizens to college.
What a tragic twist of fate, that the Trump years would bankrupt an entire country the way he bankrupted his own casinos and businesses. When will this stop?
Mind Your Own Business!
This message from yesterday’s Lectionary Readings made me laugh because different cultures have such differences, even in my own country, the United States of America.
I grew up in the great Pacific Northwest, on an island in Alaska, surrounded by Scandinavian immigrants and Alaskan natives and pioneers from the “lower 48,” as we called the USA, which was then a territory and not yet a state. Neighbors relied on one another, and we were strongly interconnected, helping one another out in daily interactions, and in emergencies. We were close, and yet we were also insular – a curious child’s innocent inquiry (mine!) would be met with “Mind your own business.” It meant don’t ask questions. Give people their privacy. In truth, there were many people who had left the “lower 48” for good reasons, established new lives in the last frontier and did not want to be reminded of what kind of mess they might have left behind.
AdventureMan grew up in the deep South, a town of around 3,000 people where they joked that the population always remains the same – a new baby gets born, and a man leaves town.” When I come back from a meeting or a lunch with a friend, he has endless questions. When he meets my friends, he has questions. I tell him generalities, and he asks specifics, and I say something vague. I hurt his feelings when I don’t share all the details – in his culture, in his small town, everyone knew everything about everybody. No one had any secrets. People knew what you had done 50 years ago, and there was little room for changing anyones opinion of who you are now, how you might have changed. People regularly shared what they knew about one another.
We’ve been married decades, and we still push and pull on this issue – how much do we share? We both know there is not a right or wrong, just what feels right to him and what feels right to me, and we have to agree to disagree, and sometimes we can be very disagreeable!
This is what the Lectionary reading says:
Thessaalonians 4:10
But we urge you, beloved,* to do so more and more, 11to aspire to live quietly, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we directed you, 12so that you may behave properly towards outsiders and be dependent on no one.
How does it work for you?
Give to Those Who Ask
Yesterday’s Lectionary readings were rich with wise instructions for navigating complicated situations.
First in Doha, then in Kuwait, and now, too, in Pensacola, we encounter beggers. In Doha, it could be women with babies, kicked out of their homes, or a begger in the middle of the street with a transfusion bag full of blood with an introvenous feed tube, begging for enough money to have the operation he needed for his kidneys (I later learned they were fake). In Kuwait, we had beggers who knew us, and who waited outside our favorite restaurants and we would give them our take-away boxes. In Pensacola, it is the homeless, often military veterans with mental health issues, families without homes, elderly men and women abandoned by the side of the road.
Many treat these people with scorn, insisting they are living like kings on what they scrounge from gullible givers. Some act with compassion, passing out bottles of water and fresh made sandwiches, or passing small bills to those at the corners. Discussion varies little about the “problem;” what is the right thing to do?
Living in the Middle East, I was the recipient myself of kind charity, stuck by the side of the road with a broken car, being given bottles of cold water while a kind stranger changed my flat tire, or a neighbor brought me a platter of leg of lamb and mensaf on an Eid holiday. People invited us into their homes and families. People were kind as I struggled to find words, and helped me understand customs which were strange to me. Charity comes with many faces.
If we are who we claim to be – People of the Book, believers – the answer is clear in this reading from Matthew:
Matthew 5:38-48
38 ‘You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” 39But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; 40and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; 41and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. 42Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
43 ‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.” 44But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax-collectors do the same? 47And if you greet only your brothers and sisters,* what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Stretching the Point
Anyone who has ever served in the military knows the term 86. We used it all the time, mostly for pieces of valueless paper. 86 meant throw it in the trash can. A translation of the above would be commonly translated as “Dump Trump”.
Dump Trump is an increasingly common sentiment in the United States. It does not have violent connotations. It means, vote out this cheap fraud, lover of gilt and self-adulation, and his entire cheap entourage, pigs at the trough. Use your vote.
If you want to see truly violent inciting rhetoric, check out 45/47. He is the master of crude incitations to violent behavior. He will tell you he will bomb you back into the dark ages, and he has the record to prove it.
I applaud you, James Comey, for your balanced and fearless response. The courts have supported your case before; they will again. Thinking a photo of seashells urging the dumping of a corrupt regime is no where near an incitation to violence.
We have freedom of speech. We are allowed to say Dump Trump.
“Maybe . . . ?” His Own People are Saying
It’s not us empty headed liberal thinkers who are saying “Maybe” with that doubtful look on their face. You call “Wolf!” too many times and people just naturally start to get skeptical, especially the conspiracy crowds.
“You know the casings didn’t match the gun of the accused would-be assassin,” they are telling one another with worried frowns.
“You know that kid in Pennsylvania was a Republican? And how was he allowed to be on that rooftop? The whole thing sounds kind of loose to me,” they’re saying in the coffee shops.
These are not my people talking. We’re busy shoring up lawsuits against constitutional travesties, and fighting for voting rights for people who have paid the price of their felonies. We’re in the churches, and on the streets, helping people get the right ID to continue voting, their right as citizens of the USA. We’re protecting those immigrants who are good, honest, hard-working people, and not just another statistic to boost the extradition boasts. And we are busy fighting for US Citizens, against having their citizenship stripped at the whim of those who don’t like their color, or their religion, or their opinions.
It’s hard to believe we are really having this conversation in the United States of America.
The Things That Matter
Moving to Kuwait was huge, with so many adjustments. As we hunted for a house, we were shown palatial living spaces. One had a big pool as you entered the house – inside the house. One house had an elevator to the three floors. We were shown so many truly amazing places to live.
It was just me, AdventureMan, and our cat named Pete. My husband worked hard. Those houses were just too big for me, and the quieter life I wanted to live, and how would I find Pete hidden in one of those huge houses?
We chose an apartment high on the 10th floor in Fintas, overlooking a beach park, overlooking a wild street, with a 180 degree view of the Arabian/Persian Gulf. There really was never a question. That view took my breath away, and gave me hours of pleasure, watching dhows, watching fishermen, watching people in the park. I called it my Eyrie.
It also gave me a glorious daily sunrise. Every sunrise was different and glorious.
Later, we were able to buy exactly the house I wanted in Pensacola – a house we had owned before, with a view of the Bayou. As a great favor to me, AdventureMan, who never wanted to move again, agreed to move, and together we watch the sun set over the Bayou. Every night we have a sunset. Every night, a different sunset, a different angle, a different color, a different mood. I am grateful for the richness that fills my life every evening when we watch the sun set, and my heart fills with awe.
For Those Who Fall Victim to the Forces of Evil
Almighty God, our Refuge and our Rock, your loving care knows no bounds and embraces all the peoples of the earth: Defend and protect those who fall victim to the forces of evil, and as we remember this day those who endured depredation and death because of who they were, not because of what they had done or failed to do, give us the courage to stand against hatred and oppression, and to seek the dignity and well-being of all for the sake of our Savior Jesus Christ, in whom you have reconciled the world to yourself; and who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Today our Lectionary remembers the Armenian genocide:
GENOCIDE REMEMBRANCE
Genocide Remembrance Day is observed by Armenians in dispersed communities around the world on April 24. It is held annually to commemorate the victims of the Armenian Genocide from 1915 to 1923.
The date 24 April commemorates the Armenian notables deported from the Ottoman capital in 1915, of hundreds of Armenian intellectuals and community leaders, most of whom would be executed, which was a precursor to the ensuing events.
— more at Wikipedia
Although this date is specifically a remembrance of the Armenian genocide, it is clear from the collects that it is intended here to cover all genocides: the killing or harming of people simply because of which ethnic, religious, or national group to which they happen to belong.
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