By
Dr. Barbara A. Reynolds
Dr. Height’s Rare Leadership Skills
Needed Now More Than Ever
A silent shudder has ascended through pockets of Black
America as the nation grieves the loss of Dr. Dorothy Height, a decades-long female voice of the civil rights movement.
Dr. Height was one of the last surviving leaders, who along with the major
Big Seven civil rights groups, helped plan the 1963 March on Washington . They included: James Farmer, of the Congress of
Racial Equality (CORE), A. Philip Randolph of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., of the
Southern Christian Leadership Conference; Roy Wilkins, of the NAACP and Whitney Young, Jr., of the National Urban League.
The only other survivor is Rep. John Lewis (D.,GA.) who headed the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee.
As the contributions Dr. Height made to the nation are remembered,
so is the vacuum of both institutional and personal prestige, viability and visibility she left behind. Not only are the Big
Seven leaders gone but many of its brightest stars such as Rosa Parks, C. Delores Tucker of the National Political Congress
of Black Women and former NAACP leader Ben Hooks. He died on April 21.
“There has been a changing of the guard as our leaders have transitioned, but so few have positioned themselves
as the new leaders, who are committed to the kind of activism that can command a large sustained following,” says Rev.
Keith Magee of Chicago” The younger generation needs to identify with the elders. So at this time
of mourning, we also mourn this disconnection. We seem lost.”
In a short informal poll of professional and working class young people over 40, none could name the presidents of
the NAACP, the Urban League or CORE. A few knew that Rev. Bernice King is the new head of the SCLC, but
also stated that the organization has been bogged down with feuds over finances and the inability to address crucial issues
of poverty, injustice and health care reform.
The passing of Dr. Height suggests to some not only the passing of a major crusader but also the passing of the leadership
style she represented as a bridge-builder, a persistent presence and someone whose ego did not overshadow principles.
Dr. Height was never a woman without a cause. All during the
sixties, she put herself in harms way, whether it was working with the families of the four little girls murdered in Birmingham,
doing voting registration drives or helping to empower Mississippi farmers.
While she added her insight to the planning of the 1963 March on Washington, she was allowed to sit on the platform
with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., but not allowed to speak.
In a 1988 interview
conducted for my book, And Still We Rise, 50 Black Role Models, Dr. Height said, “Black male leadership is
no less chauvinistic than white male leadership. Often it isn’t recognized that black women make
tremendous contributions that go unnoticed because they are in the shadows.”
At the 1963 march on Washington, the only
woman’s voice you heard was that of Mahalia Jackson. As beautiful as her voice was, those same males
would have resented it if she had asked to speak and not sing.”
Dr. Height never related history in bitterness because she also lived to see how struggle has a way of correction.
For example, in 1995, she was one of the few women asked to address the Million Man March, organized by Nation of Islam leader
Louis Farrakhan. And on the 20th anniversary of the March on Washington organized by Coretta Scott King, Height
was allowed to speak. And she saw many of the causes she championed come to pass, such as voting rights campaigns that helped
to elect Barack Obama the first African-America president.
While other commentators could see only the failures of black families, Dr.. Height looked past their flaws and built
on their strengths by organizing Black Family Reunions that started on the National Mall but have now become a nationwide
institution. It is also a source of pride that the headquarters of the National Council of Negro Women is on Pennsylvania
Avenue, the same site that used to auction off slaves.
Whether in the shadows or out front, she exerted leadership often by her tremendous ability to show up in troubled
times and perilous places. There was hardly a great social justice cause that she did not champion, whether it dealt with
prisons, farming, voter rights, education, labor, health, or equal pay for women.
As the life, legacy and leadership of Dr. Height is commemorated, the serious
state of civil rights leadership left behind must also be evaluated.
Gaining
momentum is a National Tea Party of mostly radical whites who want to “take their country back,” code words for
eradicating the Obama presidency and policies that advance progressive women and people of color. Yet there is no effective
organized movement to counter this potentially destructive group.
At a time when black-on-black homicide rates, as well as black incarceration
rates are soaring, too many black church institutions are silent or more engaged in personal prosperity preaching than collective
social action.
Dr. Height’s life provided a personal history lesson on the
value of commitment, integrity and effective organizing.
Suddenly those qualities appear more rare now that she is gone.