How Fred Hampton Inspires Our Fight Against Racial and Economic Injustice of COVID-19
For most people, Judas and the Black Messiah has been on their radar screens through HBO or the Hollywood award season. Daniel Kaluuya won an Oscar for his portrayal of civil rights activist Fred Hampton, and his castmate LaKeith Stanfield won rave reviews for his timeless red carpet style.
But the thing about Fred Hampton is, he’s not just a character on the screen to me or a footnote in history. He is my community’s history, and his fight is our fight even to this day.
I grew up just outside of Chicago in the suburb of Maywood, Illinois — Hampton’s hometown. His influence was strong in Maywood. I swam in the Fred Hampton pool. His approach to liberation continues to drive me today.
Hampton understood that racism, economic inequality and class are not separate issues, but rather interconnected threads that together weave a cloak of oppression. Racist systems create economic inequality, which fosters a class division among white, Black and brown communities.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, the cloak got heavier. Black and brown people and communities have been disproportionately impacted by the pandemic, including our members — a majority of whom are Black frontline workers.
Frontline workers risk their lives every day in hospitals and long-term care facilities, and they’re burdened by a legacy of poverty wages, lack of paid time off, and a lack of investment in our communities that results in poor health outcomes and generational poverty. Chicago’s racial and economic inequality isn’t new or a result of the pandemic. It is a direct result of long-standing racist policies and practices designed to exclude communities of color from economic opportunity through disinvestment, while also limiting access to healthcare and other vital services. For example, in Chicago, the deep history of redlining and continuing discriminatory lending practices have made it exponentially more difficult for Black families in predominantly Black neighborhoods, like Englewood, to own property than white families in predominantly white Chicago neighborhoods.
As I’ve written before, city and state leaders need to ensure the vaccine distribution programs are equitable, transparent and cognizant of the disproportionate impact COVID-19 has had on Chicago’s Black and brown communities. As a union, we are reaching out to members to share information from trusted sources and hear directly from workers about how they’re processing decisions around vaccination. We’re meeting them where they are. And we all need to recognize the history in which Black people have been mistreated by the medical industry in this country, from the Tuskegee study to how, even today, going to the doctor while Black means you’re less likely to have your pain and symptoms taken seriously.
A racist system has resulted in communities of color being held back in so many ways — and not just as it relates to vaccinations or care. Yes, we need equitable vaccine distribution. But we also need true, sustained investment in the communities that have seen their resources syphoned off. We need livable wages, housing as a right, healthcare for all, good schools, and safe communities.
All of these issues are interconnected. As president of the Service Employees International Union (SEIU) Healthcare Illinois, Indiana, Missouri and Kansas, I strive to carry the torch, burning with the light Hampton started, to the critical work we’re undertaking today.
In the words of Fred Hampton, “we’ve got to face the fact that some people say you fight fire best with fire, but we say you put fire out best with water. We say you don’t fight racism with racism. We’re gonna fight racism with solidarity.”
