First Black woman on Supreme Court sells out once segregated Charlotte theater
Just 60 some years ago, Ketanji Brown Jackson and Harvey B. Gantt wouldn’t have been allowed through the doors of a segregated Carolina Theatre.
But on Thursday, Jackson — the first Black woman justice on the U.S. Supreme Court — sold out the two-tier, 906-seat theater for a stop on her memoir tour. And Gantt, who was voted Charlotte’s first Black mayor in the 1980s, moderated discussion on the book, “Lovely One.”
Jackson’s book details not just her life, but the lives of her parents and grandparents, she said, in order to tell the story of how just one generation stood between her family’s segregation and her spot in the nation’s highest court.
During their conversation, Jackson told Gantt that the court is “more formal” and tied to tradition than she thought it would be. Gantt quipped back: “But you don’t seem to be following tradition.”
That was a nod to the junior-most justice’s “outspoken” nature and dissenting opinions refuting Supreme Court rulings in the Trump era, including those that curbed lower courts’ power and sided with fuel producers.
The 54-year-old skirted around directly addressing specific cases and opinions.
“There is built in freedom of expression in the court, so I have the opportunity to explain when I disagree,” Jackson replied. “And I take full advantage of that.”
The event was presented by the Harvey B. Gantt Center for African-American Arts + Culture.
Ketanji Brown Jackson talks memoir in Charlotte
“Lovely One” is the English translation of Jackson’s first and middle names, Ketanji Onyika. But it’s not just the title that nods to her roots.
Jackson, on Thursday and in her book, credited much of her accomplishments to her birth into a post-Civil Rights America and to the support system that carried her through it.
Her parents knew she’d have so many more opportunities than they had, so they had her doing “all of the things.” In elementary school, she learned how to swim, how to play the piano and how to memorize Margaret Walker’s poem “For My People” and recite it at a county fair.
She got a participation ribbon for reciting that poem. But in high school, she won a national championship in oratory debate.
“I think my parents knew they couldn’t rely on greater society to affirm me, so they did that,” Jackson said.
At Harvard University, a stranger took their place.
Jackson was 17 and having one of the worst days since she moved from Miami to cold Boston. She was moping through the courtyard when she passed another Black woman — someone she’d never met.
The woman leaned over toward Jackson’s ear.
Persevere, she whispered without ever slowing down.
And that she did, soon with the help of her husband and “true partner,” Patrick Jackson.
The pair met in a lecture hall and dated for six years before marrying. Ketanji Brown Jackson went through law school. Patrick Jackson went to medical school. It was hard, she said. But they made it work.
Patrick Jackson took two years off of his five-year residency to support his wife’s career. When the couple had two kids and needed more money to get through, she took a job in “Big Law.” By the time former President Joe Biden had nominated her for the Supreme Court in 2022, she had worked something like 15 jobs, including time as a public defender.
“They just couldn’t say no to you. This was not going to be a DEI appointment,” Gantt said of her resume, referencing President Donald Trump’s slashing diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives.
“You were ready,” Gantt continued.
“Yes sir, I was,” she replied.
Jackson urged the audience to get ready, too.
The crowd was a “who’s who of Charlotte,” one audience member said before the justice took the stage. It included Mecklenburg County Sheriff Garry McFadden, City Councilwoman Tiawana Brown, Congresswoman Alma Adams and Mecklenburg Clerk of Court Elisa Chinn-Gary.
But the newly-renovated space, trimmed with red draperies and dotted with velvet loveseats, also held those leaders’ constituents.
When asked by an audience member what people can do to dismantle systemic racism, Jackson left all in attendance with a final call to action: to learn.
“Learn as much as you can about our system of government and history in order to be informed and able to participate fully,” she said.
It was the “perfect question” to end on, said 29-year-old Adri Lazarus, and the whole night was a “micro-joy in a time of macro-grief.”
Lazarus has lived in Charlotte since she was 16 and remembers her father smacking The Charlotte Observer’s election guides on the table.
Read these, he’d say. Then we’ll go to the polls.
“It’s a particularly difficult time in America and in Charlotte... we just don’t work together, and there’s a lack of humanization in discussions,” Lazarus said. “To hear from a leader like Ketanji right before local elections was inspiring.”
Anna Lai, Lazarus’ 28-year-old friend and the first voter of her family, agreed.
“That was refreshing in the world of s--- we live in,” she said as she filed out of the theater and to the book stand.
