"She had a mantra , 'Barbara Lee Speaks for Me,' and that's what we all say, because she really did represent the community and fought for the rights of the people," said Bishop Bob Jackson of Oakland's Acts Full Gospel Church.
Perhaps no moment better underscored what set Oakland’s Democratic Rep. Barbara Lee apart from her leading rivals in the race for California’s open U.S. Senate seat — as well as most of her colleagues in Congress — as an exchange in the debate.
Asked about the Golden State’s vexing homelessness problem, Republican political rookie Steve Garvey offered that he’d sought personal insight into homeless people’s plight by visiting them on the street, where he “touched them and listened to them.”
Lee was ready with her dose of reality: “As somebody who’s been unsheltered, I cannot believe how he described his walk and touching and being there with the homeless.”
That “lived experience” was the focus of Lee’s campaign and career, giving a voice in Congress to people like herself who’d struggled with hard times: as a Black American; as a woman; as the sole vote against military use after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks; as someone who’d felt the pinch of poverty, racial discrimination, neighborhood pollution, domestic abuse, and yes, even homelessness.
Ultimately, it wasn’t enough to propel her into the Senate. Lee, 77, finished a distant fourth in the primary that will send Democratic Rep. Adam Schiff of Burbank and former baseball star Garvey of Palm Desert to a November runoff while she serves out the remaining months of her 13th House term this year.
But Lee will finish her career with a proud legacy, friends and supporters say, burnished by a rare combination of courage, perseverance and respect for others, including those who didn’t share her far-left vision, and a perspective not shared by many of those in the halls of political power.
“Representation matters,” said former Oakland Mayor and Assemblyman Elihu Harris. “Barbara is someone who demonstrated commitment to public service, and a level of integrity uncommon to elected officials. She’s more concerned about doing the right thing than the politically correct thing to do.”
Bishop Bob Jackson at Oakland’s Acts Full Gospel Church said Lee’s struggles in life made her a strong advocate for others facing adversity.
“I really think the life she actually lived and the things she had to experience being Black and being a female helped,” Jackson said. “All the adversity she faced to accomplish the goals she accomplished, it made her stronger and more determined, knowing that if she persevered, lifted her voice, people would listen. She had a mantra, ‘Barbara Lee Speaks for Me,’ and that’s what we all say because she really did represent the community and fought for the rights of the people.”
Lee was born in El Paso, Texas, the oldest daughter of an Army lieutenant colonel, and after her parents divorced, moved with her mother and sisters to Los Angeles, where with the help of the NAACP she became her high school’s first Black cheerleader. She recently disclosed that she traveled across the southern border to Juarez, Mexico, for an abortion as a teenager.
She married an Air Force serviceman with whom she had two sons, but they divorced a few years later after what she described as an abusive marriage. She returned to California and had to go on public assistance while attending Mills College, often with her children in tow because she couldn’t afford child care.
While studying at Mills, she was inspired by New York Rep. Shirley Chisholm, the first Black congresswoman and first to seek a major party presidential nomination, and worked on her presidential campaign. She also volunteered with the Black Panther Party, further honing her progressive roots.
While earning a master’s in social work at UC-Berkeley, Lee founded a community mental health clinic before joining the office of Oakland’s Rep. Ron Dellums, a noted anti-war activist and staunch foe of Apartheid, where she became his chief of staff. In 1990 she was elected to Harris’ Assembly district seat when he became Oakland’s mayor, won a state Senate seat in 1996 and then the House seat of former boss Dellums in 1998 when he retired from Congress.
Lee hadn’t been in Congress long when she was confronted with an issue that led to the most controversial and memorable vote of her career. With the nation reeling in the wake of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, Lee cast the lone vote in Congress against the Authorization for Use of Military Force that gave the president power to wage war on suspected terrorists and their allies.
Lee called it a “blank check” for the president to launch wars without limit. But the vote drew outraged responses from across the country. She was called a “traitor” and required a security detail to counter death threats.
But locally, supporters cheered, and say she’s been vindicated by the messy outcomes of the principal wars it unleashed — some 7,000 U.S. troops dead after 20 years in Afghanistan that ended in a bloody 2021 U.S. withdrawal with the enemy returned to power, and nearly nine years in Iraq ending in ongoing political instability.
“History records her well on that vote,” said Lynette Gibson McElhaney, a former Oakland City Council member. “But it was frightening at the time.”
Lee also continued to reach across the political aisle to find common ground with Republicans in Congress, as she’d done in the state Legislature where she got Republican Gov. Pete Wilson to sign dozens of her bills, including ones targeting hate crimes in schools and violence against women. She worked with Republicans to audit defense contracts and control costs. During her tenure, she’s worked to secure funding to combat HIV and AIDS and to bring funding for community groups to her district.
McElhaney recalled that during the COVID-19 pandemic, Lee stepped in to help her district obtain tests for the disease and that when the federal government threatened changes in Section 8 housing aid that would have displaced thousands of tenants, Lee brought the Housing and Urban Development secretary out and got the problem fixed.
“That only happened because Barbara took my call, understood what was happening and got the secretary out here,” McElhaney said.
Yet even while maintaining a busy schedule in Congress, Lee regularly returned to her district and even taught classes back at her former college, Mills. Among the students she inspired was Lateefah Simon, the BART board director who’s now the leading candidate to succeed Lee in Congress.
“Barbara Lee has been just such a tremendous mentor to me,” Simon said in a Forbes interview last month. “I’ve seen over the years how she’s worked across the aisle, she’s been boots on the ground here in this district. … These are big shoes to fill.”
Lee’s down-to-earth demeanor helped make her accessible to those she served while earning respect among her colleagues. Harris said when Lee first arrived in Congress, she addressed her colleagues as “Mr. and Mrs.” and treated them like respected elders, building relationships.
But Jackson said she remained easy to talk to.
“Never stuffy or puffed up with pride,” Jackson said. “She was always everyday people — that’s what made her a champion.”
Lee hasn’t shared what she’ll do when she leaves Congress next year. But Harris said, “Whatever she does next will be of great value to all of us.”
