Good evening everyone:

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The notes of the last number of evenings have touched on the acts and words of leaders from multiple sectors and generations – all bending toward a remarkable affirmation of the power of ideas, idealism, and engagement, even while in the midst of a pandemic that threatens our every public gesture.

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Dexter reminded me yesterday of an unlikely leader who quietly, but powerfully, helped reset an important piece of the nation’s racial justice narrative more than fifty years ago. He offered a very different angle in on the style and content of leadership. No, not the Muppets. But close. Mister Rogers.

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Fred Rogers’ television show has – for some of the more cynical among us – become almost a caricature of sacchariney kindness. But for others – including the millions of children who were its devoted viewers – it was just the opposite: a daily modeling of what genuine empathy, decency, and generosity of spirit looked like. For thirty-one years (1968-2001), Mr. Rogers delivered adult messages about challenging topics to children (and adults) in ways that they could hear and absorb.

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In 1969, as the country was still reeling from the previous year’s profound civil unrest, an unlikely, but potent, symbol of racism threatened to ignite yet another tinderbox: the segregation of public swimming pools. 

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In the 1920’s and 30’s, the United States built thousands of public swimming pools, often with the most opulent trimmings – oversized, surrounded by grassy recreation areas, and equipped with elaborate umbrella-shielded sitting areas. And yet, they were segregated well into the 1960’s; even if Blacks were permitted at the pool – and often they were not – they were relegated to a small auxiliary frills-free pool located on another part of the site.

As protests grew to a crescendo in 1969, Mr. Rogers invited onto his show Officer Clemmons, played by African-American actor Francois Clemmons. Mr. Rogers invited Officer Clemmons to join him to rest his tired feet in a wading pool, where the two sat side-by-side with their bare feet dangling in the water and talked about the pleasures of relaxing your feet on a hot day. 

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The excruciatingly leisurely scene didn’t have to pound people over the head with the abusive absurdity of separate public facilities; the visual symbolism cut through the insanity more effectively than words ever could. Although there was perhaps no causation – much as I would love to think that there might be – the Supreme Court ruled later that year that pools cannot be segregated by race.

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Clemmons later observed “My God, those were powerful words. It was transformative to sit there with him, thinking to myself, ‘Oh, something wonderful is happening here. This is not what it looks like. It’s much bigger.” 

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Almost twenty-five years later, Officer Clemmons returned to the show, and Mr. Rogers again invited the police officer to soak his tired feet. This time, Mr. Rogers used the episode to tell Francois that he was speaking to him when he uttered his iconic line: “I love you the way you are.”

A leadership grounded in unpretentious, open, and honest communication . . . deep and genuine empathy . . . profound respect . . . and inviolable adherence to fair play and justice. His words seem suited to our current moment as well:

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As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has – or ever will have –  something inside that is unique to all time. It's our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression.

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