Tuesday, July 17, 2018

From Public Housing To Running For Congress: African-American Women Find Their Voices In Jahana Hayes
Jahana Hayes addresses delegates at a Democratic nominating convention for the 5th Congressional District. (Mark Mirko / Hartford Courant)

Daniela Altimari
Contact Reporter
dnaltimari@courant.com

Politics wasn't a common career path for girls growing up in Waterbury’s Berkeley Heights public housing project. Many families were ravaged by addiction. Gunfire was common.

"It was a hard community,'' recalled former resident Aletha Minnis. "Some of us made it out, and some of us didn't."

Among those who made it out was Jahana Hayes. Pregnant at 17, she enrolled in community college and eventually became a history teacher; in 2016, she was honored by President Obama as the national Teacher of the Year.

Now, at age 45, Hayes hopes to become the first African-American woman to represent Connecticut in Congress.

Meet and talk to master distillers, spirits ambassadors, and the owners of some of the most talked about whiskeys in the world on Saturday, July 21st. Buy your tickets today!

“I’m a fighter,” Hayes said recently. “Time and time again, I have had doors shut in my face and have had to walk around and knock on the back door.’’

Hayes is facing former Simsbury First Selectman Mary Glassman in the Aug. 14 Democratic primary for the open 5th District seat. The matchup has sparked a debate about how much — and even whether — experience matters in politics: Glassman, 59, has had a 30-year career in public life while Hayes is making her first run for elective office.

Glassman, an attorney who won the Democratic Party’s endorsement, has highlighted her long record of service on the state and local levels. “I’m running for Congress because I believe Washington is broken and I have the skills and experience to fix it,” she said at a recent candidate’s forum in Washington, Conn.

But Hayes says her years of “living in the margins” have given her a perspective that’s every bit as valuable as conventional political experience.

“I know what it’s like to go to bed to gunshots outside, I know what it’s like to wake up in the morning to a dead body in the hallway,’’ she told the audience at the Washington forum. “No job gives you that kind of experience. Life gives you that kind of experience."

Hayes is seeking to catch the national wave of energy powering barrier-breaking candidates with diverse personal narratives.

From Stacey Abrams in Georgia, who is campaigning to become the nation’s first black woman governor, to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a 28-year-old community organizer who recently dislodged a 10-term congressman in New York, this new crop of political contenders has brought fresh enthusiasm to a Democratic Party still healing from Hillary Clinton’s 2016 defeat.

The working-class anger credited with propelling President Donald Trump into the White House is also playing out on the political left, fueling the campaigns of outsiders such as Hayes, said Alexandra Rojas, co-director of Justice Democrats, a national progressive political action committee that recently helped Ocasio-Cortez win.

“We are at an absolutely critical moment in our history and people are thirsty for change,’’ said Rojas. “Trump ran an anti-establishment campaign. He is an absolutely horrible leader but he riled up a part of the country that is hurting.”

The Trump resistance, along with student protesters pushing for stronger gun control laws, the #MeToo movement, Bernie Sanders supporters and Black Lives Matter activists, is leaving a powerful imprint on the Democratic Party, which has been criticized for its lack of diverse voices.

“Sometimes we need to rock to the boat,’’ Rojas said. “We want a slate of candidates who look like America. We want candidates who come from every facet from our society, including working-class people who know what it’s like to struggle.”

Hayes has put her personal struggles at the forefront of her campaign.

“In 2016 many people know I was named National Teacher of the Year, but what you don't know is that in 2015, I was turned down for three promotions, that work that I was doing was not recognized … I was disappointed and hurt but I made a commitment to the people in Waterbury to educate their kids and I worked harder that year than I ever did in my whole career,’’ she said.

Hayes knows her journey is an unlikely one. “I shouldn’t be here today,’’ she told the crowd at the Washington candidate’s forum.

Yet in some ways, she doesn’t neatly conform to the outsider template. She has ties to Sen. Chris Murphy, one of the most powerful Democrats in Connecticut. She is also receiving major support from mainstream labor unions whose political action committees are helping to bankroll her campaign.

Murphy has not officially endorsed Hayes, though several of his close allies are working on her campaign. In an interview in May, the Democratic senator spoke of the need to bring diversity to a political class that is overwhelmingly white.

“I have a strong opinion that we need to add voices of color to the delegation and leadership in the state,’’ Murphy said. “I wanted to make sure that we had a real choice for delegates and voters in the 5th District.”

Murphy’s message on diversity echoes recent comments of Democratic National Committee Chairman Tom Perez, who credited black women with helping the party engineer an upset win in a key Senate race in Alabama last winter.

"Black women are the backbone of the Democratic Party, and we can’t take that for granted. Period,’’ Perez tweeted.

The 5th District, which stretches from Danbury to Meriden and includes the Litchfield Hills and the Farmington Valley suburbs, is disproportionately white. If Hayes were to win in November, she would be one of just a small number of minority lawmakers to represent a largely white district.

In Waterbury, where about 20 percent of the residents are African American, Hayes’ message has found an eager audience among women whose life stories mirror hers.

"Jahana got us a little riled up,’’ said Minnis, a 49-year-old medical assistant. “She’s a go-getter and she’s willing to make changes.”

Minnis said she sees strong parallels between her own journey out out of Berkeley Heights and Hayes’. “We have similar backgrounds,’’ she said. “I was raised in the housing community, I was a young mother — I became a mother right out of high school.”

And just as Hayes has moved beyond the turmoil of her youth, settling down in Wolcott with her husband, a Waterbury police officer, Minnis has built a solidly middle class life: She owns her own home and put her kids through college. One son graduated from UConn and another is in the Air Force, while her daughter attends Naugatuck Valley Community College.

“We both made it out of that housing community,’’ Minnis said, “and we made ourselves positive roles models in our community.”

Hayes' cousin, Malika Watson, also grew up in public housing. For most of her life, she tuned out politics. “I didn’t think my voice mattered,’’ she said.

That changed last month, when Watson, now 37, began phone-banking and door-knocking for her cousin’s congressional campaign.

“She’s a role model for all of us,’’ said Watson, who works as a personal care assistant and is raising three daughters. “She was in the projects but she found her way out of there and look at her now!”

Watson compares her enthusiasm for Hayes’ campaign to the excitement she felt in 2008, when Barack Obama was elected.

“He gave us so much hope then,’’ Watson said, “and she’s giving us so much hope now.’’

No comments: