A few days before officially endorsing Hillary Clinton as a presidential candidate, Brittany Packnett — a founding member of Campaign Zero and a prominent leader in Black Lives Matter — was in the New York Times, explaining the concerns she, and a great number of black voters she'd spoken with, had about Clinton. But she gave her endorsement, in October 2016, because as many issues as she had with what she perceived as Clinton's lack of attention to young black voters, Packnett believed she represented a much better path to progress than Donald Trump.

A little over a year later, Packnett spoke at the Women's Convention in Detroit, a weekend-long conference from the organizers of the Women's March. Ahead of a panel about police violence against black people — one of the key issues she addressed in a private meeting with Clinton after publicly endorsing her — Packnett talked with Cosmopolitan.com about the importance of creating an inclusive activist movement.

You gave your endorsement to Hillary Clinton about two weeks before the election —

— I mean, I had some real concerns. When I gave my endorsement, I was clear that it would come only with the opportunity to converse directly with her. The day after I released my endorsement, I met with her face to face in Ohio and talked very specifically about centering issues of police violence, criminal justice, [and] equity for women of color. I did appreciate that she had more black women in senior positions in her campaign than anybody who had ever come before her. So I recognize her as someone who was willing to listen, and someone who was willing to be pushed. Especially in 2016, those were the choices we had before us.

I was like, let me endorse a woman, try to help put some steam behind her, and get somebody in office who we can hold accountable and we can actually work with, who will not stop progress or reverse progress, but who can help proceed forward. It was a tough choice. It was a deeply personal choice. I wasn't speaking for any movement, any organization, or any group of people. I was speaking for myself.

When the convention announced Bernie Sanders would be one of the opening speakers, there was a swift backlash. What do you think of that backlash?

Yeah — swift. When my friend Tamika Mallory introduced Congresswoman Waters before her speech, she was like, "The media did their thing, and as soon as Bernie was announced, he was treated like he was the keynote speaker." The first speaker that they went after was Maxine Waters. They asked permission to use her words of "reclaiming our time" as the conference theme. She was always the keynote and the headliner. Tamika had to correct the record on the stage.

There was a very, very swift turnabout. But it's funny, because I'm like, it's the Women's Convention, and you all are reporting on the Women's Convention, and you are putting the entire spotlight on the old white man who got announced as, like, one of 60-plus diverse women who are speaking. I was like, "You all are blaming the Women's March for the very thing that you're doing." That conversation is circular.

I think the rejection of Bernie as a speaker, for some people, was about him personally in their own politics and whether or not they agree with him. But more broadly, the issue is that we keep propping people up as messiahs, and they're not. Bernie Sanders is no more a savior than Hillary Clinton was. Certainly Donald Trump is not our savior. Barack Obama wasn't our savior — these are people who are politicians, who are trying to do better than what was had before. At least for Bernie, Hillary, and Obama — not Trump.

The question is how are we engaging in the kind of crosscultural fusion politics that allow us to stand in solidarity? To literally be stronger together and get more done, because we've got the power behind us? To me, that's the question. If you turned away from the opportunity to build that kind of fusion politics because of one person, then you have to ask yourself how fragile your belief was in the first place.

And let's be very clear — people's criticisms of Bernie are very valid. I have publicly shared some of my criticisms around what I felt like was a lack of intersectionality. But we just have to make this bigger than a person. It's bigger than Trump, it's bigger than Bernie, it's bigger than Hillary, it's bigger than any singular person — irrespective of how high the office is that they hold. This is about all of us and figuring out how we can create a movement that is actually about all of us.

You've been vocal about R. Kelly's alleged assaults and attacks on black women and written about how he targets women no one cares about. What is your response to the allegations against Harvey Weinstein and the reignition of #MeToo?

I'm not on a hunt against one person — none of us are. I am on a hunt against a culture of permissiveness that allows this to happen to women in every industry: Hollywood, the music industry, domestic workers, corporate women, businesswomen, women in politics — literally every field of work there is. Women are experiencing harassment. Everywhere that women are, there is sexual assault. And if we allow certain people to get away with it, we send the message that everyone can get away with it. The public nature of [R. Kelly's] abuse, of his platform, makes it clear to me that he needs to be accountable just like Harvey Weinstein is.

But, you know, it's funny — there have been 58-plus accusers. The only person that he disputed was Lupita Nyong o. Which to me was emblematic of the fact that he clearly had some kind of shame associated with being attracted to a black woman. It's reflective of how society views black women in an extremely binary way, where we are often two things all at the same time: Black women are simultaneously infantilized — like we have no agency and cannot handle ourselves — and hyper-sexualized. Like we are some kind of predatory, sexual being. Of course we want to have sex with R. Kelly no matter how old we are. Of course we want the sexual attention that we receive. Black women are looked at as children and as older than we really are, all at the same time.

R. Kelly has been a thorn in my side for a long time. Not because I know him, and not because it's some kind of personal vendetta, but because I want to finally see the world stand up for black women the way that black women stand up for the entire world. Once in my lifetime, I want to see all of us come together.

If you're not willing to take on all of the touring companies who continue to hire [R. Kelly], and make money off of him, then you are a part of the problem. If you are not tweeting out #metoo with the same fervor against R. Kelly's issues as you are against Harvey Weinstein, then you are part of the problem. For me, this is about so much bigger than a single musical artist. This is about black girls finally being of enough value to the world for people to stop making money off of us and our abuse.

So if the least I can do is lose some followers and have people be mad at me, because I'm honest about something, that's the very least I can do. The very, very least.

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From: Cosmopolitan US