Black History

The Congressional Seat That Black History Built (florida’s 20th District)

JACKSONVILLE FREE PRESS — Florida’s 20th Congressional District represents a civil rights victory born from immense struggle and sacrifice. The first Black Congressman from Florida, Josiah Thomas Walls, was elected during Reconstruction but was forced from office in 1876. This marked the beginning of a 117-year period without Black representation from Florida in Congress, a silence that deeply impacted generations.

Published

2 months ago

July 15, 2026

Post News Group

Florida Congresswoman Frederica Wilson speaks to police and youth attending a 5000 Role Models conference at Hard Rock Stadium in Miami Gardens, Florida on Nov. 1, 2022. (Jose A. Iglesias/Miami Herald/TNS

By Rep. Frederica S. Wilson

History has a way of disappearing if no one is willing to tell it.

Too often, we celebrate milestones without remembering the struggle that made them possible. We inherit rights without understanding who fought for them. We walk through doors without knowing who had to break them open. That is why I believe every generation has a responsibility to remember, because when history fades, so does our appreciation for what it took to change it.

This is not an endorsement of any candidate. It is a civics lesson. It is a history lesson. Before you cast your ballot, know the story of District 20.

District 20 is more than a congressional district. It is a civil rights victory.

Its story begins with Josiah Thomas Walls, the first Black Congressman from the State of Florida. His election during Reconstruction represented one of the nation’s earliest promises that democracy could become broader, fairer, and more representative. For a brief moment, Black Floridians saw themselves reflected in the halls of Congress.

That promise did not last.

Across the South, white supremacist violence sought to erase the gains of Reconstruction. Terror replaced hope. Intimidation replaced participation. Organizations such as the Ku Klux Klan worked to drive Black Americans from public life and dismantle the political power they had only just begun to build. Josiah Walls was forced from Congress on April 19, 1876, and with his departure, Florida entered one of the darkest chapters in its democratic history.

For the next 117 years, Florida did not elect another Black Member of Congress.

That is longer than any lifetime. Entire generations were born, raised, and buried without ever seeing Black representation from Florida in the United States Congress. Families taught their children to keep believing even when history gave them every reason to lose hope. Black people died. Black blood was shed. Black skulls were cracked beneath the blows of nightsticks. In the rivers of Florida, the water became an unmarked grave for Black Americans whose only demand was the right to vote, to be fairly represented, and to have their voices heard. Churches became organizing centers. Neighborhoods became movements. Ordinary citizens are still carrying, to this day, extraordinary burdens because they refused to accept that this was permanent.

The story of District 20 is, in many ways, the story of America itself. It is a story of extraordinary progress born from extraordinary sacrifice. It is also a reminder that progress has never followed a straight line. Every advance has been met by resistance. Every victory has required vigilance.

Then, in 1993, history turned.

Corrine Brown, Carrie Meek, and Alcee Hastings were elected to Congress, ending a silence that had lasted 117 years. Their elections did more than fill three seats. They restored a voice that had been absent from Florida’s congressional delegation for more than a century. They reminded the nation that the arc bends towards justice.

Congressman Alcee Hastings would go on to represent what is now Congressional District 20 for many years, carrying forward that legacy of service and advocacy.

District 20 is the legacy of those who refused to be erased.

It is a seat paid for by generations of Black sacrifice.

It exists because countless Black people challenged barriers that once seemed impossible to overcome. Black people organized when organizing carried real risks. Black people marched when marching invited retaliation. Black people voted when others worked tirelessly to deny them that right. Black people understood that democracy is strongest when every community has an opportunity to be represented and every citizen has a voice.

White nationalists marched through our nation’s capital carrying Confederate flags on the Fourth of July just to remind us that Black people cannot be comfortable. Even after more than 400 years of slavery, we still have to continue the fight. The fight for our freedom did not end. It simply became our generation’s responsibility.

That is why the history of District 20 matters.

If Black lives matter, then the history of Black representation matters too.

Representation is not merely symbolic. It shapes conversations and brings lived experiences into the rooms where decisions are made. A representative cannot erase history, but a representative can ensure that history is remembered.

The story of District 20 is also the story of America’s promise and its failures. It reminds us how difficult it has been to expand democracy and how much determination it has taken to make our institutions more representative of the people they serve. It teaches us that progress is not inevitable. It is built, protected, and renewed by each generation.

That is why history deserves our attention.

As the highest-ranking Black elected official in the State of Florida, I have a responsibility to tell you the truth. I know what our ancestors endured to earn a voice in these halls of power, and I know how quickly that voice can be taken away. I know what it costs to lose representation because our history has already lived through that pain.

That is why I am imploring you to vote like your future depends on it, because it does.

We deserve a seat at every table where decisions about our lives, our children, our communities, and our future are made. That seat was not given to us. It was earned through generations of Black sacrifice.

At a time when President Trump and many Republicans are working to undo decades of hard-fought progress, we need a fighter in Congress who understands the lived experiences of Black communities, who knows the history that brought us here, who recognizes what is at stake, and who will never hesitate to defend our right to be heard, represented, and included wherever decisions about our future are made.

So, I am asking you to do more than vote.

I am asking you to honor those who never lived to see this moment because freedom has always demanded participation.

That future is now in your hands.

Every generation must choose whether it will preserve it or surrender it.

When you enter that voting booth, remember that you are carrying the hopes and voices of those who were denied one.

You are carrying the prayers of those who never stopped believing that America could live up to its promise.

Do not leave that legacy behind.

Because District 20 is more than a seat in the United States Congress, it is the seat that Black history built.

Now it is our responsibility to make sure history never has to build it again.

Courtesy of the Westside Gazette

Based on reporting by Jacksonville Free Press.

Post News Group

Posts by Post News Group

Up Next

IN MEMORIAM: D.C. Mourns Vernon Hawkins, Organizer Who Helped Shape Five Decades of Black Civic Life

Don't Miss

COMMENTARY: The Two July 4ths: Which Did You Celebrate?

Post News Group

Click to comment

Activism

Oakland Post: Week of August 26 – September 1, 2026

The printed Weekly Edition of the Oakland Post: Week of August 26 – September 1, 2026

Published

15 minutes ago

August 29, 2026

Oakland Post

To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.

Oakland Post

Posts by Oakland Post

Black History

IN MEMORIAM: Dolly Parton Dead at 80 — How She Built a Legacy of Love and Earned Her Place in Black Culture

BAYOU BEAT NEWS — For Black audiences, the bridge to Dolly will always run through Whitney Houston. Parton wrote “I Will Always Love You” as she prepared to leave Porter Wagoner’s television show and released it in 1974. The original was tender and restrained, a country goodbye delivered with grace. Then Whitney got hold of it.

Published

3 days ago

August 26, 2026

Post News Group

Before some of us knew Dolly Parton as the Queen of Country Music, we knew her as the woman behind Whitney Houston’s song. We knew the blonde hair, the rhinestones, and that unmistakable Tennessee voice. But somewhere along the way, Black America came to understand something deeper about Dolly; when she said she loved people, she had the receipts to prove it.

The community is now left to mourn the icon who passed away at the age of 80, on Aug. 25, after dealing with an unknown medical condition. Known for her chart-topping country music hits, Dolly never felt as though she belonged only to one genre, or one kind of person. She showed up with humor, humility and a generosity that did not ask who you voted for before offering a helping hand. She made room for people, and in return, people from every corner of the culture made room for her.

The Song That Brought Dolly and Whitney Together

For Black audiences, the bridge to Dolly will always run through Whitney Houston. Parton wrote “I Will Always Love You” as she prepared to leave Porter Wagoner’s television show and released it in 1974. The original was tender and restrained, a country goodbye delivered with grace. Then Whitney got hold of it.

Houston’s 1992 rendition for “The Bodyguard” did not merely update the record. She took it to church, then carried it around the world. That opening a cappella moment, the controlled stillness and the key change that made everybody reach for a note they had no business trying to hit turned Parton’s country ballad into a global anthem. The single spent 14 consecutive weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, became the best-selling physical single by a woman and earned two Grammy Awards.

And instead of trying to deny contribution or rush to remind everyone who wrote the song, she celebrated the way Houston’s voice transformed it. In an industry with a long history of taking from Black artists while denying them proper credit, Dolly understood that acknowledging Whitney’s greatness did not diminish her own. One woman wrote an extraordinary song. Another woman revealed everything else that song could become.

“This is the house that Whitney built.”

— Dolly Parton

Parton later shared that she used some of the royalties from Houston’s recording to purchase commercial property in a predominantly Black Nashville neighborhood. She called it “the house that Whitney built.” There was something beautiful about that acknowledgment. Whitney’s voice had generated wealth, and Dolly wanted part of that wealth rooted among people she described as Whitney’s people, and her people, too.

Dolly’s relationship with Black America was not built on pretending she did not see color. She saw us. In a 2020 Billboard interview, she made her position plain: “Of course Black lives matter. Do we think our little white asses are the only ones that matter? No!”

It was blunt, funny, and completely on brand. But Dolly also understood that allyship could not stop with a quote. After learning why the word “Dixie” was offensive and painful to many people, she removed it from the name of her Civil War-themed dinner attraction. She called her previous understanding “innocent ignorance.” More important, she fixed it.

That willingness to listen mattered. Dolly did not perform perfection or become defensive when someone pointed out harm. She showed that loving people means caring enough to learn, change and do better. In a time when public figures often double down just to avoid admitting they were wrong, Dolly simply chose not to be cruel.

Dolly’s love also arrived in the mail. Inspired by her father, who could not read or write, she launched the Imagination Library in 1995. The program began in Sevier County, Tennessee, sending one free, age-appropriate book each month to enrolled children from birth to age 5. What started in the rural community that raised her grew into an international literacy movement. By the end of 2025, the program had distributed more than 300 million books and was mailing about 3.4 million books each month.

Those books found their way into homes in big cities as well as small towns. In New York City, the Imagination Library has been promoted through public schools and community organizations in the Bronx. For urban families navigating tight budgets, limited bookstore access or neighborhoods where children’s books are not always easy to find, a brand-new book addressed directly to a child can mean more than one package. It tells that child, “This belongs to you. Your imagination matters.”

That was Dolly’s kind of giving: personal, useful and rooted in dignity. She also funded scholarships, supported hospitals, invested in medical research and helped families recover from disasters. Her $1 million donation to Vanderbilt University Medical Center supported research connected to the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. She turned the money she made entertaining people into opportunities to help them live, learn and rebuild.

A preschooler opening one of Dolly’s books in the Bronx did not need to know “Jolene.” A parent reading that book at bedtime did not need to be a country music fan. Her generosity crossed racial and economic lines because it met families in real life, at the mailbox, in a hospital room or after the unthinkable happened.

A Legacy That Felt Like Love

Dolly Parton leaves behind thousands of songs, beloved films, major businesses and enough rhinestones to keep heaven sparkling for a while. But her greatest legacy may be the way she made strength feel soft without ever making it weak. She knew exactly who she was, yet she never needed anyone else to become smaller so she could shine.

For Black listeners, her bond will always be part of that story. “I Will Always Love You” was never about choosing between the white woman who wrote it and the Black woman who took it somewhere new. Dolly gave the world the words. Whitney gave those words wings. Together, they created a piece of American music that refuses to stay inside one genre or belong to only one community.

That is why this loss feels personal, even to people who never met her. Dolly reminded us that tenderness can be powerful. She showed us that changing your mind can be a sign of character, that celebrating another woman’s brilliance does not steal your light and that love means very little if it never becomes action.

Country music will forever call Dolly Parton one of its queens. But Black culture recognized something in her, too: a woman who respected our greatness, spoke up for our humanity and invested in our children. She did not simply leave this world loved. In the ways that mattered most, Dolly loved us back.