Stacey Abrams - Minority leader: how to lead from outside and make real change

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For Mom and Dad, Andrea, Leslie, Richard, Walter, and Jeanine, Jorden, Faith, Cameron, Riyan, Ayren, Devin, Brandon, and Nakia

When you write a book that is part memoir, part advice, and part alchemy, the list of those who deserve credit grows exponentially. I am deeply grateful to the people who have helped me grow in my careers, who have advised me, and the ones who let me practice my advice on them.

Family always comes first. To my mother and father, the Reverends Carolyn and Robert Abrams, I am profoundly grateful. As my mom has said a time or two, I was in a hurry to get into the world, so much so that she had to be on bed rest for two months. Once I made my arrival, my parents raised me with a boundless belief in my potential, anchored by a sense of responsibility to others. My first teachers, they gave me a love of words and a gift for storytelling. I like to think I am a blend of my parents: Dads indignation at inaction and his determination, Moms compassion and her patience, knowing folks will come around. I admire their lived passion for justice and wry humor about a world that could cause permanent bitterness. And when my mistakes grew heavy and painful, they wrapped me in love and forgiveness and hope. No one will ever know finer people than my parents, and I give thanks daily for my great fortune to be born into their care.

Dr. Andrea Abrams, my eldest sister and second teacher, has been my confidant and my protectorthe leader of a rowdy tribe of siblings who still look to her for guidance, comfort, and intercession with our parents. Whether shes fending off the bully on the school bus or smartly editing this books draft proposal, Andrea is there, as she has been my entire lifesometimes standing in front of me, and never out of reach. Her emotional clarity weaves through my logic, lighting ideas I may have missed. Her generosity of time allows me to pack more into my own days. With her as my lodestar, I will always find my way.

My sister, Judge Leslie Abrams, showed up in my life eleven months and twenty-seven days after my arrival, and I thank God for the precious gift of a friend and collaborator who gives yin to my yang. She kept my secrets in childhood and my dreams of the future. Leslie edited my first book, her sharp sense of narrative aiding me more than she will know. She is possessed of a moral core that consistently challenges me to be better and kinder, and her joie de vivre lifts me up and makes me smile with my whole heart.

My gratitude to Richard Abrams, my brother, for his example of strength, and his resilience in the face of difficulties. I have watched him overcome obstacles from his earliest days that would crush weaker men. Instead, he fought his way through with a sly smile and a keen intelligence I continue to admire. His quiet ways do not hide his spirit, and he has never failed to step up when I call. I am proud of the man he is and continues to become. Watching him raise Jorden, Riyan, and Ayren with his wife, Nakia, I see the wonders of family serve a new generation.

During his matriculation at Morehouse College, my brother Walter shared my apartment and my many lives as attorney, activist, and writer. When I shoved the pages of my second novel in front of him, he didnt balk or mock my request. Nope, he read his first romance novel and gave me excellent feedback. In Walter, I have a sparring partner, a cheerleader, and an early morning call on every birthday. I am grateful for his loyalty and his brilliance, and for his determination to try and get it right.

When you are the last of a set, it would be easy to go unnoticed. For my youngest sister, Dr. Audrey Jeanine Abrams-McLean, that was never an option. Jeanine stuns me time and again with her couragethe willingness to be herself, unapologetically, authentically, and brazenly. She is wicked smart, brusquely sweet, invariably hilarious, and a perfect antidote to days when I wrestle with my choices and need a listening ear and open heart. Her example as wife to Brandon and mother to Cameron and Devin evokes only joy. Though youngest, she has an old soul and a wisdom that humbles me. Though last, she has never been far behind, and somehow manages to get places first. She read this manuscript in its raw form, and her advice has made this a stronger work.

My niece, Faith, allowed me to share her story in these pages, a brave act for an eleven-year-old. I am honored by her courage, and I am delighted by the chance to watch her grow and mature. She binds our family tighter, a unique link between my parents, my siblings, and her cousins, and I adore her.

For my extended family, additional thanks to my brother-in-law Brandon, who shared his house during my extended stay and offered his constant support during everything; my sister-in-law Nakia, who shows up, no questions asked, and lets me borrow her children for necessary hugs; and my other nieces and nephews, Jorden (of video games and thoughtful questions), Cameron (of inquisitive mind and clever words), Riyan (of quiet intelligence and keen eyes), Ayren (of sweet smiles and belly laughs), and Devin (of dynamo speed and infectious giggles). And to my grandmother, Wilter Abrams, who begs me to slow down but never fails to urge me on.

One perk of humanity is the ability to make friends into more, to learn from them and to disappoint without losing their love. Archimedes said, Give me a place to stand, and I will move the earth. I offer this modification: Give me good friends to stand beside, and we will move the world.

Thank you to my first Spelman sisters, the late, beloved Michelle Slater, Reena Wyatt, Edana Walker, Ayanay Ferguson, Mendi Lewis, Alyson Jones, Renee Page, Rimani Kelsey, Caryn Johnson, Letricia Henson, Janet Scott, and those also who lifted me up and whose names are etched in my heart. And to Camille Johnson, who has been my friend since the first week of college, riding shotgun on every election I have ever waged, thank you for hard questions and an unquestioning willingness to act first and recriminate later.

Dr. Johnnetta B. Cole, my adored Dr. C, thank you for the time at your kitchen island at Spelman, at your office desk on Beechwood Avenue, in your sunroom in Greensboro, and in your life since 1991. Through you, I honed my capacity to tell stories through speeches, to speak truth to power, and to ask for what I needed from those who could provide.

My extended Truman Scholarship family contributed to this book by helping shape me in their ways: Louis Blair, who handed me a roadmap to places I had never imagined; Eliza Leighton, who loves more generously than anyone deserves and is friend, business partner, and instigator; Gregg Behr, who has crappy taste in college football but is an extraordinary man and thought leader; Maggie Church, who will never allow time to eclipse the heart; Stacey Brandenburg, a shared name, a beautiful soul, and stories we will never tell; Meredith Moss, a woman of spirit deserving of all the best; Tara Kneller Yglesias, a leader who never allows dictates to dictate her fortunes; Andrew Rich and Tonji Wade, who keep the Truman legacy alive; Max (and Kate) Finberg, who make the world better each day; Diana McAdoo, who is clever and kind and a monthly reminder on my phone to smile; and Brooks Allen, who followed me from Truman to Yale but is always ahead of me when it matters. I am also beholden to senior scholars U.S. Senator Chris Coons, U.S. Attorney Bill Mercer, Margot Rogers, Brother Rogers, and Mary Tolar, who helped fix my lens upon the world, and those fellow Trumans who allowed me to grill them or stand with them in Uncle Harrys name.