That’s “Madame Governor-Elect” to You, Georgia

The most important democracy in the world has taken the midnight train to Georgia… again.

My dear Madame Governor-Elect Keisha Lance Bottoms,

I salute your unprecedented historic victory.

And I tip my hat to my fellow Atlantans for going above and beyond the call of duty to help make it happen. I have to admit something: I didn’t think we had it in us.

Not after watching the political climate of this country deteriorate, not after witnessing the seemingly endless resurgence of some of the ugliest instincts in American history, and certainly not after growing accustomed to the political disappointments of the past decade.

I know all too well that Georgia remains part of the Jim Crow South, even if the signs have long since come down. We live in a country whose institutions were not originally designed to place women, Black Americans, or other people of color in positions of legitimate political power. The distance between the promises of American democracy and the realities of American life has always been considerable.

And yet, here we are.

I have not trusted a single political poll in the better part of ten years. That is a lesson I learned the hard way, alongside millions of other Americans who have discovered that polls do not determine elections any more than political pundits do. The only people who ultimately determine elections are the people who show up and cast their ballots. But this election night has taught me something else entirely.

A little blue blip in a state that has spent decades being identified with ultraconservative politics has stood up and announced its presence. Democrats, left-leaning independents, and Georgians who simply wanted something different came together and made their voices heard. We said, in our own way, enough.

I can only imagine the expressions on the faces of those who never thought they would see this day. The keys to the Governor’s Mansion are about to pass into the hands of a Black woman, and you are poised to make history as the first Black woman elected governor of an American state. That is a remarkable achievementt.

Yes, America has elected a Black president. We have elected Black mayors, senators, representatives, and countless other public officials. Atlanta itself has a long and consequential history of Black political leadership. But we must never confuse representation with the wholesale transformation of people’s material circumstances.

The election of a Black president did not bring an end to Black suffering. The election of Black mayors has not magically transformed the living conditions of the vast majority of Black Atlantans. Political representation matters enormously, but it is not a substitute for economic opportunity, public safety, educational access, housing, or the dignity of being able to live one’s life without constantly having to fight for it.

I am under no illusion of the astounding magnitude of the responsibility before you.

Sometimes, all we can do is bear witness. I can bear witness. You can bear witness. The rest of us can bear witness to the contradictions of a country that proclaims liberty while tolerating extraordinary inequalities in the distribution of power, opportunity, and justice.

I am also under no illusion about the country in which we live. Black Americans, regardless of socioeconomic standing, continue to contend with discrimination, intimidation, and violence. Some of these injustices are committed outside government. Others are perpetuated through government institutions, policies, and practices. Some are unlawful; others are embedded in systems that have historically operated within the letter of the law while undermining its promise. That distinction matters. And I would be doing you a disservice if I pretended that the road ahead would be easy.

You will encounter opposition from Republicans, certainly, and you will also encounter resistance from fellow Democrats. You will discover that the machinery of American politics is capable of frustrating even the most ambitious and well-intentioned public servants. President Obama learned that lesson during his own administration, and I suspect you will encounter your own version of it.

There will be criticism. There will be racially charged taunts, intimidation, and death threats. There will be setbacks, false starts, and moments when the very people who celebrated your election seem reluctant to stand beside you when governing becomes difficult.

Not simply because you are a Black woman, but because you are breaking a barrier that has stood for the entirety of this country’s history. I hope you will remember, particularly on those difficult days, that your election represents something larger than any single political party, campaign, or administration. For many of us, it represents the possibility that Georgia can be something other than the state its detractors, and sometimes its own history, have made it out to be.

I don’t pretend that one election can erase centuries of injustice. Nor do I believe that one governor, regardless of her accomplishments, can single-handedly repair every institution that has failed us. But the significance of this moment is not diminished by acknowledging the work that remains. If anything, it makes the work more urgent.

And as for the national political implications, let us not pretend that the past several years have been absent from this election. We voted with the pestilential memory of Donald Trump very much in mind. His politics, his rhetoric, and the divisions that have characterized his political movement remain part of the national conversation. I imagine he will be irate to see another Black woman occupying a position of considerable political authority.

I certainly won’t lose any sleep over his displeasure.

I don’t dare call this his country. It belongs to all of us, including those whose ancestors were denied the very freedoms that its founding documents proclaimed. And that brings me back to you, Madame Governor-Elect.

You and your family are in my prayers. I know how unforgiving American politics can be, even under ordinary circumstances. I cannot imagine the extraordinary scrutiny that will accompany your first days in office. I hope you will protect your family, preserve your sense of humor, and remember that the office you are about to assume is a public trust, not a personal burden you must carry alone.

Lead with conviction. Govern with humility. Listen even to those who disagree with you. And never allow the ugliness of political opposition to persuade you that the work is not worth doing.

I want to believe that Georgia has something to teach the rest of this country. For one day, if only for twenty-four hours, perhaps the entire American electorate can consider itself Georgian. Perhaps the rest of the country can look toward the Peach State and remember that democracy is not simply about winning elections. It is about the willingness of people with different backgrounds, experiences, and political convictions to participate in a common enterprise.

The American people are all sons and daughters of Georgia tonight. The midnight train has come again. And this time, it has brought us something we did not entirely dare to expect.

God bless you, Madame Governor-Elect. God bless your family. God bless the people of Georgia, and may the responsibilities of your new office be met with the courage, wisdom, and grace they demand. Stay strong.

Your young brother in Christ,

Malik Roberts