Last night was a painful reminder of the distance left for us to travel. For Black Gen Z, it was a night that challenged the very hopes we held for this country, a night when the dream of progress met a harsh, unflinching reality. We went into this election believing we were on the edge of a monumental shift, that our nation was ready to embrace HERstory by electing the first Black woman as President. We believed that her qualifications, her dedication, and her vision for an inclusive America would be enough. But last night, we were reminded of a truth our ancestors knew well: that progress in America is hard-fought and easily undone, that the forces of resistance are still deeply entrenched, and that even our fundamental rights are fragile, always vulnerable to being eroded.
For so many of us, this election was supposed to confirm what we were taught to believe – that the arc of history is bending toward justice. But last night’s results shattered that illusion. We saw, in real time, that we are not anywhere near post-civil rights, that the battles our ancestors fought were not closed chapters but ongoing struggles. And as we wake up to this reality, we’re faced with a choice: Will we rise to protect the rights they secured, or will we sit back as those rights are stripped away?
The truth is, this work is not new. It has been passed down, generation after generation, like an heirloom too precious to be lost. Our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents carried the weight of this fight with dignity, courage, and strength. They endured unimaginable hardships, facing down injustice in the streets, in the courts, and even in their own neighborhoods. They paid in blood, sweat, and sacrifice to secure the freedoms we sometimes take for granted. And they passed on to us not only those rights but the understanding that these rights must be defended continuously, deliberately, and together.
But over time, our generational connection to that legacy has frayed. We’ve come to see the civil rights movement as history – as something finished, something accomplished and filed away. Many of us were taught a sanitized version of that era, a narrative that suggested our rights were secured, that the hardest work was already done. We learned about Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks as icons, but we didn’t always learn about the sustained, gritty, community-driven work that made their victories possible. We weren’t always taught about the layers of organizing, of building bridges across differences, of mentoring and being mentored.
This is our call to reclaim that spirit of deliberate engagement. We need to look to our elders not as symbols of a bygone era but as living archives, as keepers of strategies, tactics, and wisdom that are essential to the work ahead. They carry with them the lessons of hard-won battles, the understanding of how to navigate institutions resistant to change, and the resilience to withstand setbacks. We need their knowledge, and they need our voices, our energy, and our commitment to ensuring that the next chapter of this fight is stronger, more connected, and more determined than ever.
Let’s be clear: we are in a new ear of the civil rights movement. The forces seeking to dismantle our rights are powerful, and they are determined. This movement may look different than it did in the 1960s, but it is just as critical, just as urgent. If we fail to rise, if we do not reconnect to the wisdom and strength of those who came before us, we risk failing them – and ourselves. We risk losing what was so painstakingly built. Our generation is now the steward of this movement, responsible for defending and expanding the rights we cherish.
This moment calls for deep reflection, but it also demands action. To my peers, I say: there is no time to wallow in despair. We cannot afford to indulge in self-pity or to stand on the sidelines, hoping someone else will step up. The work is here, and it requires all of us – not tomorrow, not later, but right now. Our response will determine if we shape an America that truly reflects our values and aspirations or if we allow others to drag us back into a nightmare of oppression, inequality, and fear.
This is our choice, our responsibility, our fight. The stakes are high, but we are not alone. We have the strength of generations behind us, a legacy that demands we stand tall and continue the work they began. We don’t have the luxury of waiting or the option of giving up. The question we must answer is simple but profound: Will we be the generation that rises, that reconnects with our past to protect our future, or will we let history repeat itself?
It’s time to act, time to organize, and time to come together – not just for today or tomorrow, but for the future we all deserve. The call to carry this legacy forward is ours, and it is urgent. We have work to do, and we have each other. Let’s get to it.
