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Full Biography for Willie Lewis Brown, Jr.Candidate for |
Early Years I was born and raised in the Colored section of Mineola, Texas. Mineola is a little way station on the road out of Dallas, and "Colored" is how people like me were referred to in polite conversation during that era of strict Southern segregation known as Jim Crow. My family was by no means well-to-do, and my father left when I was young. I was not, however, without advantages. I was fortunate to be surrounded by incredibly strong women: my mother, who worked as a maid to support us, and my grandmother, with whom my brother, sisters, and I all lived. I also benefited from a caring and protective community, grown close and nearly self-sufficient in the face of ostracism from the rest of society. And family and community made all the difference in those early years. They believed in me, taught me the value of hard work and the importance of education, and nurtured my sense of dignity and self worth. San Francisco Bound As I grew to adulthood, I worked very hard to demonstrate that my family's faith in me had not been misplaced. I worked at every odd job I could get, from picking blackberries to shining shoes. I did well in my studies and graduated second in my class (1951) from Mineola Colored High School. But the place of my birth was a hostile environment for Black folks who were not content to remain in the narrowly confined places assigned to them. And so, right after graduation, I convinced my family to let me move to San Francisco and live with my aunt and uncle who had settled here some years before. I promised my mother that, if she let me go, I would go to college, work hard, and make her proud of me. It is a promise I have struggled to keep on a daily basis ever since. An Educated Man My first impressions of my new home have never left me: the taste of freedom and the sense of promise and opportunity. Unfortunately, I was not as well prepared to take advantage of all these wonders as I had thought. Back home, I had excelled in mathematics, and so I attempted to gain admittance to Stanford University. But my segregated, separate-but-equal education left a lot to be desired. To my chagrin, I soon discovered that I could not even meet the entrance requirements for San Francisco State. It was then that San Francisco sent the first of many miracles my way. His name was Duncan Gillis, and, as a member of the SF State Administration, he agreed to admit me on a trial basis, provided I brought my skills up to par. It was an early, but very informal, example of affirmative action - someone was willing to take a chance on me. Four years later, I graduated, not from an underfunded, understaffed, small, black-only college in the South, but from an integrated, first-rate institution of higher learning. I made friends with many students, among them Phillip and John Burton. After graduation, John and I enrolled in Hastings Law School, where we met another lifelong friend, George Moscone. By the time I became a lawyer, my wife, Blanche, and I had begun our own family with the birth of our daughter, Susan. Another daughter, Robin, and our son, Michael, soon followed. I had an education, a family and a profession - success beyond my wildest dreams. Of course, even in San Francisco, few big law firms were interested in hiring young black lawyers. I hung out my shingle and represented clients from the neighborhood. Not all of them, to be sure, were what you would call model citizens. But they were entitled to legal representation just like everyone else, and I felt blessed to be able to provide it. Civil Rights As tolerant and welcoming as San Francisco was in those years, it was far from a perfect place -- especially for minorities. I became involved in the civil rights movement to bring hope and opportunity to all people. When Van Ness auto dealerships refused to hire black employees, I organized protests, and I led some of San Francisco's first demonstrations for equal housing rights. Entering Politics It was a logical step from the law and the civil rights movement to a run for elected office. I had the good fortune to have the help, encouragement, and guidance of the late Phil Burton. Nonetheless, I lost my first race for the Assembly in 1962. Phil would not let me be discouraged. With his help, I learned from my mistakes, built upon my strengths, and ran again in 1964, this time successfully. I served in the State Assembly for the next 35 years, and in 1995 turned my attentions to the most difficult but most rewarding job I have ever held: serving as the Mayor of San Francisco. |
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