by Dahleen Glanton
I wore my mother’s pearls on Wednesday.
They were not perfectly round or flawless, lustrous or large. They were simply the best I could afford when I gave them to her one Mother’s Day many years ago.
Since her death, they lay in my jewelry box, waiting for the perfect moment to make their debut. There could have been no better occasion than the swearing in of America’s first Black and Asian female vice president.
I wore them in honor of Kamala Harris. But they also represented the hope President Joe Biden restored.
Pearls, whether real or fake, were “a thing” on Inauguration Day. The movement began with a Facebook group, comprised of more than 400,000 women from all walks of life, committed to unity. Their message was resounding: No matter our differences, we share a bond of sisterhood that is both beautiful and powerful.
Harris seems to love pearls, a symbol of her Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority. She wore a single strand when she graduated from Howard University and during the vice presidential debate. She wore black Tahitian pearls when she was sworn in to Congress and when she got her COVID-19 vaccine.
On Wednesday, she wore a custom pearl necklace designed by Puerto Rican jeweler Wilfredo Rosado. And U.S. Rep. Barbara Lee wore a strand that once belonged to Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress and the first woman to seek the presidency. Both embodied the diversity that is the fabric of America.
Like many other women who donned pearls while sitting in front of their TVs, I wore them to acknowledge a fresh start. They reflected my belief that the future, while tentative and fragile, is full of possibilities.
Biden’s inauguration provided plenty of reasons to be optimistic. There were many glimpses of promise on display as a new era of governing began.
The first woman and woman of color was sworn in as vice president by the first Latina to serve on the U.S. Supreme Court.
On the same day, an African American preacher and a Jew from the Deep South and the first Latino from California were sworn into the U.S. Senate.
A Black Capitol policeman, deemed a hero for luring rioters away from the Senate chambers during the insurrection, escorted the vice president to her post as part of his new duties as acting deputy Senate sergeant at arms.
And a young poet, who described herself as a “skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother,” reminded us that we can “find light in this never-ending shade.”
“The new dawn blooms as we free it,” she said. “For there is always light, if only we are brave enough to see it, if only we are brave enough to be it.”
In his address, Biden did exactly what the leader of a divided country was supposed to do. He acknowledged our collective grief and offered us a chance to start afresh.
His speech was graceful and conciliatory, as he extended an invitation for bipartisanship and mutual respect. He made it clear that there is room for everyone under his tent. But it is up to each individual to decide if he or she wants to enter.
Healing assumes that both sides are willing to put their differences aside. It requires patience, compassion and open-mindedness. It requires the removal of barriers, the erasure of dividing lines.
In his first official act as president, Biden reversed many policies that divided us. He signed executive actions halting funding of the border wall. He reversed a travel ban on Muslim countries. He rejoined the Paris climate accord and moved to count noncitizens in the U.S. census. That’s a great start.
I plan to wear my mother’s pearls more often now. Every time I look at them, I will think of her, of course. But I will also remember the day when hope returned to America.
Dahleen Glanton is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune.
