Photo Courtesy of wbaltv.com
On October 17th, Representative Elijah Cummings (D-7) died. When people die, I, like most people, reflect on how they lived their lives. I also reflect on how we existed in the shared space that was our relationship. What I remembered most about Cummings was his rare quality to evolve his positions in ways that made sense and were about and loving, while maintaining his special “Elijah” way. That way was the spark of goodness that was so apparent when you met him. It came out fearlessly when he smiled.
Last weekend, my friend who is on the Howard County Democratic Central Committee, Josh Hirsh, asked me if I do the “eye test” when I meet people. That’s when you can look in someone’s eyes upon meeting them and you can just tellif they’re a good person. Cummings passed that test with flying colors the first time I met him, at the post-primary Unity Breakfast thrown by the Howard County Democratic Central Committee. He spoke with sanguine vim and vigor, and “his brow would furrow deeply and his voice would quiver with emotion,” as Sheryl Gay Stolberg and David Stout wrote in an October 17thNew York Times articleremembering his life.
I decided after his speech that I must meet this moving man. Despite his “fiery oration,” an aura of approachability and kindness surrounded him as he descended the stage. He used a walker to tread toward the door out of the event room. He likely had several other places to be and speeches to give. Admirers encircled him. But I was on a mission. I pushed past everyone to get face-to-face with him. Struck by my audacity, he smiled that Cummings smile in front of me for the first time. It was so striking in that moment, gleaming and wide, it was my turn to be taken aback.
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“I’m so glad to meet you!” he beamed.
Then I got nervous as usual and sputtered some goofy reply.
I learned over the next few months that he was raised by two Pentecostal ministers, and despite coming to be an “LGBTQ+ rights hero,” wrote Derrick Clifton in an article on out.comabout Cummings’ support of the LGBTQ+ community, who took the bold step of supporting LGBTQ+ marriage equality. It was a position he came to after a —- —that’s the rare ability to evolve that I’m talking about. I’m trans and a member of that community. But during our first meeting—and everyone after—he only treated me like a fellow human of equal worth. And I know because I saw that smile. I saw when we chatted briefly at a Juneteenth event at Oakand Manor in Columbia (part of Cummings’ district was in Howard County, my home, and despite the huge population of Baltimore, where most of his district lie, he never forgot us). I saw his smile when we noshed at a table together at Calvin Ball’s victory party after his win to become Howard County’s first African-American County Executive on November 6th, 2018.
And: A limerick a friend and mentor, Del. Eric Ebersole (D-12).
“But Cummings has been an ally to the LGBTQ+ community for years, expressing his support for same-sex unions during the lead-up to Maryland’s historic 2012 referendum on marriage equality,” wrote Clifton, remembering his life and legacy.
Despite his evolution on certain issues, staying in line with his ethic of basic humanity, he maintained the essential Cummings big-heartedness. I was sure of this when, after he passed, the Operations Director at the Maryland State Democratic Party, Morgan Murphy, where I’m an intern, created a memorial to Cummings. It was centered on an old campaign poster where he’s young, fit, and I could tell, energetic. But his smile was the same as it was years later when I first met him.
A mantra that Cummings used at speaking engagements was, “It’s not the act. It’s the memory of the act.” Theoretically, a person–like an immigrant child huddled in a cage at our Southern border–could recover from a traumatic experience. But the way it haunts you, lingers afterward, menances you after, in ways you realize and don’t realize, that’s what makes a cruel act as damaging as it is. The flip side to this coin is that a good act, like Cummings’ smile and all it represented about him, is something that in the Trump era of daily horrors. I’ll remember Representative Cummings smile and it’ll comfort me. I’ll remember that there are good people willing to stand up for what’s right.
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I’m grateful for your readership! Check back with me each week here at politicalpoetrypasticheas my linguistic, literary, and generally loquacious involvement in local politics takes on a mélange of prose and poetry genres. After all: All Politics Is HoCo-al™. Join me on Facebook here, find me on Twitter at @politicalpoetr3, and follow me on Instagram using the handle @politicalpoetrypastiche.