me? Why is he gonna do that?”
Clark said, “You go talk to him, kid.” Powell and his people all used to call me “kid.”
There was a long hall at Abyssinian that you had to walk down to get to the steps on the side of the church that led to the street. I ran around to the side and saw him in the hall, already coming out of his office. He was holding hands with Darlene Expose, his girlfriend at the time, as he walked down the stairs.
“Reverend Powell!” I said.
He turned around and saw me. “Hey, kid,” he said, and he patted me on the head.
“You can’t leave us,” I said. “You’ve got to run. We’ve gotta get the seat back from Charlie Rangel! What are we going to do?”
He looked at me closely. He said, “Kid, one day, you’re gonna grow up and be a great man. Always remember this: Know when to hit it, and know when to quit it.” He paused. “For me, it’s quitting time.”
But I didn’t want to hear that. “Well, what are we gonna do?”
“I’m going fishing,” he said. “I don’t know what y’all are gonna do.”
He patted me on the head again. Then they were gone. It was the last time I ever saw him alive.
Despite it all, he went out a legend, because he didn’t disgrace himself by trying to hold on too long. I’ll always remember what he said: Know when to quit it . When quitting time comes for me, I’m gone.
I think a lot of my colleagues in public office get into trouble because they lose sight of the point, the reason that drove them into the career in the first place. You’ve got to consciously decide early on, when you get your shot, what are you going to do with it? You’ve got to come ready for execution. You have to aspire to leadership for a reason, not just because it’s your season, not because you think it’s your time to lead. You must have specific things you want to achieve, benchmarks that drive you. Otherwise, if it’s just about the position and the power, you won’t ever want to let it go. But if you had goals, once you have crossed them all off your list, then you can walk away from the job with a smile and a great deal of satisfaction. I can name many leaders who got seduced by the position and lost sight of the goals.
When I meet young people who tell me they aspire to leadership, my first question is, “To what end?” If they can’t answer that question, then I have to conclude that they don’t really deserve leadership; they’re just trying to be celebrities. We have got enough celebrities. We need some leaders.
The lack of mentorship is a serious problem in the political realm, across parties and ideologies and racial backgrounds. We all need to be more intentional about bringing along thenext generation. All of us, when we have achieved at a certain level, should be asked, “Who are your mentees? Who are you bringing along?” Young people aren’t doing enough to seek out mentors, and older leaders aren’t doing enough to reach back. It is a particularly acute problem in the black community, where you often have a talented young newcomer taking on the old, established lion, who is so eager to hold on to his seat that he will stoop to embarrassing levels to discredit the newcomer. We see this all the time. I think that when you have been denied power and influence for so long, those who break through and gain some power are going to be desperate to keep it. That’s just human nature. But there’s a difference between natural competitiveness and trying unduly to maintain something you should no longer be trying to maintain. I don’t care who you are, at some point, your skills wane, your luster wears off. You should want to go out as a respected figure, rather than playing dirty and undoing all of the goodwill you accumulated. Granted, this is a lot easier said than done. But I think you know when you’ve lost it, whether you are an orator, an athlete, or a leader. When you don’t recognize the signs, the consequences can be