What Reverend Jesse Jackson Means To Me And The Still Unfinished Movement

I met Rev. Jesse Jackson in one of the most defining moments of my early organizing life — and I had to tell him no. 

1993. The March on Washington for LGBT Rights. I was one of four co-chairs of the march, young and determined, part of a generation carrying forward the unfinished work of the Civil Rights Movement. Rev. Jackson was, by then, already a giant — a national figure whose voice had reshaped American politics. Rev. Jackson had been the kick-off stage speaker and gave a phenomenal speech, but the crowd was growing and growing, and he wanted to speak when it was at its peak

The problem was that every speaking position had already been assigned through an arduous, grassroots process to ensure a diversity of voices. No one wanted to be the one to tell Rev. Jackson he could not take the stage again.

So I did.

I remember walking up to him, my heart racing, and saying calmly, “If you want to speak on that stage, you’ll have to find someone who will give up their spot for you,” and I offered him the roster. 

He stood perfectly still and stared down at me. I was certain I had overstepped. He then pulled me into a hug — the moment captured in a photo I still cherish — and said, “Well played.”

I felt I had been given the nod by a mentor. That moment tells you everything you need to know about Rev. Jesse Jackson.

He was a towering figure. But he respected discipline. He respected organizing. He respected power built through movement — not personality.

Rev. Jackson was a giant of the Civil Rights Movement and a relentless advocate for racial justice. His work was about power: who gets to vote, who gets hired, who gets seen, who gets protected, and who gets heard.

His presidential campaigns in 1984 and 1988 expanded what was politically imaginable in America. He helped redefine who could credibly seek national leadership and, in the process, widened the electorate. Without Jesse Jackson, there is no Barack Obama.

Through Operation PUSH and the Rainbow Coalition, Rev. Jackson tangibly served humanity (the “S-H” in PUSH). He expanded voter participation. He challenged corporate exclusion. He insisted that Black communities deserved real economic and political power, not just recognition. He understood that institutions do not change because they are persuaded. They change because people apply sustained pressure. Operation PUSH and the Rainbow Coalition gave us a blueprint: racial justice requires a coalition across race, class, faith, and geography — movements grow stronger when they widen the circle rather than narrow it.

That widening included LGBTQ people at a time when many leaders avoided the issue altogether. Rev. Jackson was the first presidential candidate to make gay rights a core part of his platform. He engaged LGBTQ leaders within a civil rights framework when doing so was politically risky.

For Black LGBTQ people like me, that mattered. Too often, we were told we had to choose between our racial identity and our sexual orientation. The Rainbow Coalition challenged that false choice.

In 1994, I wrote in Essence about the need to build Black gay and lesbian leadership and about how Black church leaders and Black LGBTQ people could mobilize together rather than divide. That work was rooted in the same conviction Rev. Jackson carried: our liberation cannot be selective. If some of us are left behind, none of us are truly free.

In 2026, Color of Change stands on the shoulders of Rev. Jackson’s legacy.

He pioneered the strategy of holding corporations accountable through organized pressure. At Color Of Change, we brought that model to scale. We forced more than 100 corporations to leave ALEC. We co-led one of the largest advertiser boycotts in American history against Facebook. When we challenge companies whose policies harm Black communities, we do so in the tradition of Rev. Jackson.

In 2014, when Color Of Change members partnered with Rev. Jackson and successfully pushed Twitter to publicly disclose its diversity data,  it forced one of the world’s most powerful tech companies to open its books and confront exclusion. It sent a signal to the entire industry. And it proved to organizers that institutions respond when organized people demand transparency.

That campaign helped lay the groundwork for what has since evolved into our Black Tech Agenda — a comprehensive effort to hold digital platforms accountable for whom they employ, whom they amplify, and how their systems affect Black communities. Rev. Jackson recognized early that power was shifting into new corporate structures, and he was prepared to challenge them there.

Today, Rev. Jackson’s life’s work is under threat again. Legislation is moving through Congress that would require costly documentation to register voters, purge voter rolls monthly, and restrict mail-in voting. Every time Black people build real political power, there is an organized effort to roll it back.

The racial justice movement moves in cycles. Progress followed by backlash. Expansion followed by resistance. What we are witnessing now is not new. We all recognized it when I met Rev. Jackson in 1993, and we must recognize it in 2026: Yes, backlash is the predictable response to demographic and political change. But more importantly, backlash is evidence of impact. We are making an impact.

Rev. Jackson taught us that progress happens because people organize, apply pressure, and refuse to accept second-class citizenship as permanent.

That is what Color Of Change does every day.

When we mobilize 7 million members to defend the freedom to vote, that is Jackson’s legacy. 

When we hold media companies accountable for harmful portrayals, that is Jackson’s legacy. 

When we build coalitions that widen the circle rather than narrow it, that is Jackson’s legacy.

The lesson he leaves us is not nostalgia. It is instruction.

Build power.

Apply pressure.

Widen the circle.

Demand transparency.

Protect what has been built.

I think back often to that moment in 1993. A young organizer standing before a giant. Nervous. Honest. Firm.

He paused. He assessed. He respected the structure. And then he embraced me.

“Well played.”

That is the movement at its best: courage met with discipline. Generations meeting with respect. Strategy over ego.

The fight is not over. It is escalating. But Rev. Jesse Jackson showed us what to do.

Keep fighting. Protect what he built. Love each other and freedom more than we fear those who would deny us our liberty.

Keep hope alive — not as a slogan, but as a strategy — until justice is real.

Nadine Smith is the President and CEO at Color Of Change, one of the nation’s largest online civil rights organizations dedicated to advancing racial justice.

SEE ALSO:

Le[e]gal Brief: Rev. Jesse Jackson Showed Us We Were Somebody

Jesse Jackson’s Campaigns Offer Blueprint For Defeating US Extremism