On Good Friday, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris had no public events listed on their respective schedules. But by early that morning the vice president decided to travel to Tennessee, and by that afternoon, she was on a plane bound for Nashville.
Days earlier, yet another horrific shooting occurred at a Nashville school that, like so many others, was given wall-to-wall cable news coverage. Three nine-year-old children, the school principal and two teachers were killed. Thousands flocked to the state Capitol demanding action. Joining the demonstrators at the statehouse were three Democratic legislators — Justin Jones, Justin J. Pearson and Gloria Johnson.
Johnson, a teacher who survived a different school shooting, says, “Every time I am in a school, and I hear sirens, I jump.”
Taking their protest to the floor of the Tennessee House of Representatives after their microphones were turned off, Jones shouted from a bullhorn, “No action, no peace!” and waved a sign reading, “Protect kids, not guns.” Pearson also grabbed the megaphone and chanted, “Enough is enough!” Johnson stood by her two African American colleagues in a show of solidarity.
Not content with offering little more than “thoughts and prayers,” the Republican-controlled legislature expelled Jones and Pearson, instantly depriving nearly 135,000 people of their voices at the state Capitol.
When asked why she, too, wasn’t driven from her seat, Johnson responded: “Well, I think it’s pretty clear. I’m a 60-year-old white woman.”
Republican House Speaker Cameron Sexton compared the actions of Jones, Pearson and Johnson to an “insurrection” equivalent to, or worse than, that at the nation’s Capitol on Jan 6, 2021. But the expulsion of the legislators spectacularly backfired, as the so-called “Tennessee Three” were immediately catapulted from obscurity to national prominence.
Outraged at the expulsions of the two African American legislators and the attempt to oust a third, Vice President Harris landed in Nashville and met privately with the Tennessee Three. She then traveled to Fisk University, the historic Black college, where she delivered a hastily prepared speech. Appearing before a young, mostly African American audience, Harris denounced those who told the Tennessee Three to “sit down and be quiet,” saying, “You can’t walk around with your lapel pin, and you’re not representing the values we hold dear as Americans.” Reminding her listeners of her position as vice president of the United States, Harris told the young leaders, “We need you,” and ended her remarks by saying “We march on.” The crowd reaction was electric and Harris was met with cheers and lengthy applause.
Spontaneous moments in politics are rare, given how politicians are reminded to “stay on message.” But when they occur, they are memorable.
In 1968, Robert F. Kennedy gave an impromptu address in Indianapolis after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Kennedy addressed the tragedy in a very personal way, reminding his listeners, “I had a member of my family killed, too,” a reference to the assassination five years earlier of his brother, John F. Kennedy. He called for replacing the “stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land with an effort to understand with compassion and love.” While riots erupted in other American cities on that April night, Indianapolis remained quiet.
Another memorable political moment occurred days after the 9/11 attacks when George W. Bush climbed atop the rubble of the World Trade Center, grabbed a bullhorn, and shouted: “I can hear you! The rest of the world hears you . . . and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon.”
Finally, at a 2015 South Carolina memorial service for nine people killed by a white supremacist at Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, South Carolina, Barack Obama spontaneously began singing Amazing Grace. Those viral moments became indelibly fixed in our collective memories of these leaders.
The modern vice presidency is a hard job, and the responsibilities given to any vice president are solely at the discretion of the president. Political independence is an oxymoron, as vice presidents are expected to echo the refrains coming from the White House. Kamala Harris is no exception. But Tennessee demanded her presence, and Harris’s background positioned her as best suited to address the undemocratic actions of the Republican-controlled state legislature.
In particular, the expulsion of the two Black legislators, Jones and Pearson, is part of Tennessee’s long history of racial discrimination. Before entering the legislature, Justin Jones led a successful protest to remove the statute of Klan founder, Nathan Bedford Forrest, from its place of honor in the State Capitol.
Additionally, when white Republican legislators engaged in misconduct that should have resulted in their removal, they were permitted to complete the remainder of their terms. In 2018, Rep. David Byrd (R) was accused of assaulting three female minors while serving as a baseball coach. (The resolution to expel Byrd was sponsored by Gloria Johnson.) In 2022, Rep. Glen Casada (R) was charged with money laundering, wire fraud and bribery, but served the rest of his term. Only last month, Rep. Paul Sherrell proposed adding “hanging from a tree” to the state’s execution methods, calling it “a good idea.” He, too, remains in the legislature.
As the first female, African American, and Asian vice president, Kamala Harris spoke to the moment. While most vice presidents fade into political oblivion, Harris is a force in her own right. Her Tennessee speech — like those of Robert Kennedy, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama — has become her shining moment.
John Kenneth White is a professor of Politics at The Catholic University of America. His latest book, co-authored with Matthew Kerbel, is titled “American Political Parties: Why They Formed, How They Function, and Where They’re Headed”. He can be reached at johnkennethwhite.com.