The NAACP announced Monday that it will hold its national conference in Boston next year, for the first time since 1982 — and just before the 2020 presidential nominating conventions.
Race relations being what they are in Boston, this news immediately takes on highly symbolic importance, and spurs debate about exactly what it means about the city.
Boston’s local NAACP branch would like you to know that the national board did not — repeat, did not — choose Boston as a way of recognizing, or rewarding, how much the city has improved on race relations. They do not want the selection to be seen as a stamp of approval for a city that still, to their view, has a lot of serious issues to tackle.
“There are going to be people who want to use this to say that Boston is cured of its race issues,” said Tanisha Sullivan, president of the Boston NAACP. “That would be a mistake.”
The mayor’s office sees things a bit differently. Marty Walsh put out a statement calling the selection “a real testament to Boston’s commitment to achieving racial equity for all.”
The truth probably lies somewhere in between. And the question going forward is whether the city ends up using the high-profile event — made even more prominent by coming in a presidential election year — in a way that moves the city forward on racial issues, or in a way that highlights the city’s resistance to change.
The simplest truth about the selection, however, is that the NAACP is coming to Boston for the same reason that other conventions come: because the money worked.
Everybody loves holding conventions in Boston if they can; but hotel rooms, event spaces and other costs are exorbitantly expensive for attendees who are not vascular surgeons or biotech investors.
Over the course of months, Boston’s powers-that-be negotiated and cajoled the necessary concessions and promises of corporate sponsorships, while assuaging NAACP concerns and assuring that commitments will be kept. Key players included Ken Brissette in the mayor’s office, Michael Munn at the Boston Convention Marketing Center, and Beth Stehley at the Greater Boston Convention and Visitors Bureau.
But more than most efforts to attract city business, Walsh kept the control centered inside City Hall. He tasked John Barros, secretary of economic development, and Lori Nelson, chief resilience officer, with making it a priority. They brought in outside help, including well-connected attorney Joseph Feaster — who was president of the city’s NAACP branch the last time Boston hosted the annual convention.
Presumably, Walsh pushed harder than for other conventions in part because landing the NAACP would be seen as — in the words of The Boston Globe — “a remarkable public relations victory.”
But people close to the process say that the convention is simply a fantastic piece of business for the city; the NAACP board negotiated hard for the best deal; and the city was able to make the numbers work.
It’s probably true that the NAACP board would have been less eager to consider Boston if the city’s reputation on race hadn’t improved. It wants to maximize attendance, and you don't do that by convening in a city where members suspect they aren't welcome.
But, it didn’t shy away from Orlando, or Baltimore, during years of controversy; or even New York City during Mayor Rudy Giuliani’s stop-and-frisk heyday.
So, the selection wasn’t really meant as symbolic of anything. But this is Boston, with its complicated tensions over race relations, so of course everybody understood that it is very symbolic indeed.
To Welcome Or Not
One of the key people pitching Boston for the 2020 convention was Michael Curry, the former president of the Boston NAACP branch who is on the national organization’s board. One of the skeptics was Sullivan, the branch’s current president.
After Sullivan became branch president in late 2016 — with Curry’s blessing — she and other new officers quickly demonstrated their willingness to get combative with the mayor. The branch released a lengthy report, “Equity, Opportunity, and Access Report Card: The Walsh Administration,” excoriating him at the height of his re-election campaign.
Sullivan and the local branch ultimately signed on in support of hosting the national NAACP convention — without which the national NAACP would not have come.
“The Boston branch is honored to serve as the host branch,” Sullivan said. Boston, she said, will be “a backdrop to what is sure to be a historic NAACP convention.”
Nevertheless, she wants to ensure that the city uses the event not to crow about progress, but as a catalyst for forward change. Sullivan said it’s important to “not only host for a few days, but also that there is a lasting, positive impact on the lives of people who live in the city.”
She said that Walsh has given her personal assurances, although at this point the details are vague. Almost certainly there will be an emphasis on using minority-owned businesses; the city has retained public relations guru Collette Phillips in part to help in that effort. There will probably be plans to get convention attendees out of the South Boston waterfront headquarters, to experience and spend money in other neighborhoods.
Those are the obvious easy targets. Bigger, bolder thinking will be needed to provide a long-term impact. Nelson, hired last May and tasked by Walsh to tackle “persistent racial and economic inequality,” wants to convene the best minds and stakeholders.
“We have this wonderful opportunity to build out a lasting legacy on how Boston is trying to move forward on racial diversity,” Nelson said.
“These are the right questions,” Barros said. “Let’s go figure out how to do it.”
But, what if the city, and the convention planners, do not come through to the satisfaction of some or all local black leaders? Sullivan would not promise that there will be no protests or disruptions, instead expressing optimism that it won’t come to that point. “I am hopeful that we will hold one another accountable to make sure that it is done the right way,” she said.
Big Platform
In 2004, when all eyes were on Boston for the Democratic National Convention, the local police union used the opportunity to cause trouble for the event’s star, presidential nominee John Kerry. Union members, who were battling with then Mayor Tom Menino over a contract, picketed an event early in the week but ultimately backed down from threats to picket the convention itself.
National attention has a tendency to raise temperatures.
Although dates have not been announced, the 2020 NAACP convention will convene in July, shortly before the Democratic and Republican nominating conventions. The presumptive Democratic nominee, if there is one, will undoubtedly speak. Donald Trump might speak as well, though he declined to do so in 2016. Obamas, Clintons, and other bold-faced names will show their faces. Press will follow.
The NAACP convention will come, also, at the tail end of a Democratic presidential nominating cycle likely to feature some of the frankest discussion of racial issues in modern politics. Already, at this early point, candidates are debating criminal justice, wealth, housing, and the environment in explicitly racial terms. By next July, those ideas, and perhaps more controversial topics, including reparations, will be under discussion for the Democratic party platform.
It could all set the stage for Boston to add to its place in the country’s racial history, along with the abolitionist movement and Barack Obama’s 2004 DNC keynote speech.
That’s meaningful, in and of itself, whether or not the event also proves to be a catalyst in Boston’s difficult struggle for equity.
