By Kenny Boddye
We Owe Them More Than This
Recently, Winsome Sears—Virginia’s current Lieutenant Governor and the Republican nominee for Governor—sent out a campaign email that left me stunned.
It opened with these words:
“Slaves did not die in the fields so that we could call ourselves victims now in 2025.”
As the descendant of both the enslaved and the oblivious—Black ancestors who were brought in chains to Virginia generations ago, and white ancestors who came to Nebraska unaware of this country’s racial caste system—I am compelled to respond.
My mother’s family journeyed through the horrors of slavery, through Louisiana, the Great Migration, and eventually to California. Their roots trace back to Virginia—the very land I now serve as an elected Supervisor. Some of my ancestors were sold from this region and never returned. Their lives were not lost so their descendants could be chided for seeking justice. Their pain is not campaign fodder.
My father’s family, white and non-slaveholding, nevertheless lived within a system designed to benefit them while denying opportunities to others. Their story is part of this, too. Because this is all of our history—complex, interwoven, and still unfolding.
Today, I have white and white-passing stepchildren. They’ve sat in classrooms where a fuller, more honest version of history is being taught—one I never received growing up. And not once have they said they felt shame. They’ve felt indignation. Empathy. Responsibility. They’ve asked, “How can we be part of the solution?”
That’s what teaching history does at its best—it invites all of us to rise to the moment.
And yet, some politicians want to weaponize history. To erase its darkest chapters. To act as though acknowledging injustice is the same as being a victim. But healing doesn’t come from pretending. It comes from truth, acknowledgment, and corrective action.
For generations, our country has taught a sanitized version of itself—glorifying Confederates, downplaying slavery, ignoring redlining and segregation, and erasing Black brilliance. That whitewashed version of history isn’t just dishonest—it robs all of us of the full picture. It delays progress.
Let’s be clear: Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion isn’t “nonsense.” It’s the moral baseline for a just society. Teaching children the truth isn’t indoctrination—it’s education. And reckoning with our past isn’t victimhood—it’s vision.
I am who I am because of where I come from—because of those who were enslaved and those who stood by silently. I carry that legacy into every decision I make, every community meeting I attend, and every policy I fight for.
And I share this because I know that many of you carry legacies of your own.
Let’s not dishonor our ancestors by using them to score political points. Let’s uplift their memories by demanding a better, more honest, more just Virginia—for everyone.
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