On Feb. 17, 2026, life slowed as we paused to honor the life and legacy of the Rev. Jesse Louis Jackson Sr. That day, Rev. Jackson joined the lineage of ancestors who shaped the moral architecture of the late-20th-century civil rights movement.

A pioneering force in multiracial democracy, Rev. Jackson was a coalition builder, a translator of moral urgency into electoral force, and a strategist who understood the power of organized communities.

To understand his significance — both in our own lives and as a moral force in American democracy — we must situate him within movement history.

From Memphis to Movement Architect

Born in 1941 in Greenville, South Carolina, Rev. Jackson rose to national prominence as a young minister and organizer working alongside the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He served in the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and was at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis in April 1968 when Dr. King was assassinated.

That moment symbolized a generational transfer of moral urgency. Rev. Jackson would spend the next five decades translating that urgency into political power.

In 1971, he founded Operation PUSH (People United to Save Humanity) and later the Rainbow Coalition — organizing frameworks rooted in economic justice, political participation, and global human rights.

Operation PUSH advanced economic empowerment, corporate accountability, and educational access for Black Americans. Long before corporate accountability campaigns became common, Rev. Jackson pressed major companies to diversify executive leadership and invest in Black communities. He challenged corporations whose profits depended on Black consumers but whose leadership, policies, and practices excluded them.

He understood what too many still resist: civil rights without economic leverage leaves structural inequities intact.

Building the Multiracial Electorate

In 1984, Rev. Jackson nationalized the Rainbow Coalition — a multiracial organizing framework that originated in Chicago in the 1960s under Fred Hampton. With the National Rainbow Coalition, he proposed a durable political alignment of Black voters, Latino communities, labor unions, poor white voters, LGBTQ communities, and farmers — grounded not in identity alone, but in shared material interests.

Then he tested it.

Rev. Jackson ran for the Democratic nomination for president in 1984 and again in 1988. His 1984 campaign was historic. His 1988 campaign was transformative. He won 11 primaries and caucuses, secured more than 7 million votes, and finished second in the Democratic delegate count.

He registered millions of new voters and reshaped the Democratic Party platform toward more progressive positions on health care access, voting rights enforcement, education, and apartheid in South Africa.

When we see Black elected officials running for office today, we must remember that Rev. Jackson was their forerunner — even as Shirley Chisholm was his predecessor.

The multiracial electorate we now reference as commonplace did not materialize spontaneously. Rev. Jackson helped build it.

A Global Advocate for Human Rights

Rev. Jackson’s influence extended beyond domestic politics. In 1984, he negotiated the release of U.S. Navy pilot Lt. Robert Goodman from Syria. He engaged leaders in Cuba. He advocated against apartheid and brought international visibility to human rights struggles when formal diplomatic channels stalled.

But beyond strategy, Rev. Jackson was a preacher of possibility.

He understood that policy shapes material conditions, but narrative shapes imagination — and imagination shapes what people believe is possible.

“I Am Somebody”: Imagination as Infrastructure

He would proclaim, “I am somebody,” in call-and-response with children across the country. That affirmation was not performance. It was psychological liberation.

In an era when Black children were routinely marginalized by public systems, Rev. Jackson insisted that pride itself was a political act. Long before “narrative strategy” became common language in organizing spaces, he understood that identity formation and public imagination form the infrastructure that enables full participation in democracy.

If ordinary people cannot imagine themselves as full participants, they will never claim democracy’s protections.

The Question His Life Leaves Us

Today, voting rights are being eroded state by state. Economic inequality has reached historic levels. Democratic norms and constitutional guardrails are under strain.

In this moment, the question his life leaves us is not simply how we will remember him. It is whether we will build coalitions wide enough, courageous enough, and disciplined enough to construct a new democracy.

The deeper measure of what we learned from his life is whether we will bend history for generations to come.

Constance Harper is vice president of strategic impact and innovation at the Deaconess Foundation.