22 | Stand Up | Fannie Lou Hamer’s Voting Revolution
44:27 Share

Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Black History for Real early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.

Conscious, when we talked about the Black women of the Black Panther movement, it was so illuminating, but also frustrating to hear how pervasive it has been throughout history that Black women are often the forefront of these progressive movements. But we often don't get credit, and it continues to happen to this very day. Why do you think that that is?

Man, you know, I'm a reformed die, Hotep. You know what I mean? Definitely. What that means to the audience that's not familiar, Hotep is a concept that's usually talked about in modern times for a particular type of black masculinity or positionality of black men that are very pro-life.

Pro-black in terms of racial politics, but tend to be a little bit or a lot of bit discriminatory and oppressive when it comes to gender politics. And when it comes to, you know, sexual politics, typically able to take on different kind of Afrocentric aesthetics. You know what I'm saying? And, you know, yeah, that's what that is.

Progressive when it comes to race, regressive when it comes to gender and sexuality. Yeah, that's the most simplified way to put it. Definitely. Easy, easy. We can't, you know what I'm saying, mix it up. And so do you think that that is unfortunately the way a lot of or too many progressive men fall into that same category? Despite, you know, again, saying that they are progressive, do you find as someone who at one time saw yourself in that same light that

Do you find that it's hard for certain folks to wrap their mind around the fact that like we need gender equality in conversations about racial equality too? Yeah, I wasn't trying to go too deep. I was trying to say something simple, but now you're making me go there. I think that most people that occupy a oppressed position, I think that sometimes it's hard for us to wrap our mind around how though we are oppressed, that we are also implicated in other people's oppression. And what I find is that when it comes to the relationship to Black women, that

non-straight cis white men have that typically is kind of hard for people to recognize how they get in the way of black women's progression. But the original question you had asked me or the original thing you had kind of posited, I was thinking about the argument that my debater used to run, this black woman that won a national championship, about how the world doesn't really love black women, but love what black women can do for them. And I think that a lot of that, I feel like that argument illustrates that.

I believe how the word would relate to black women. You feel me? Yeah. I mean, and I think that that's so poignant because unfortunately it's a, it is a microcosm of how black folks are treated. And to your point, it is really hard for marginalized folks of all backgrounds to acknowledge that just because you're marginalized in one way, your privilege in other areas is not erased and you need to be cognizant.

of both of those things. Yeah, and sometimes you will buy into your privilege to directly prop up oppression. So it's not just that you are privileged, but literally that that privilege comes at the expense or is made possible through oppression. And I feel like when we start having these little conversations about privilege and oppression, they usually become bad words or triggering words. So when you try to put those words on somebody, they usually jump back. It reminds me of when I made an actual post about

Black History for Real on Twitter by Elaine Brown. And because I was talking about her in relationship to sexism being experienced on the hands of black men, it was a lot of people that didn't like that because they felt like, you know, how dare I talk about how black men can be oppressive as a black man? You pandering this, that and the other, but also you are fed. And it's like, to me, I think that that's a part of it. You know, the oppressed position like fighting.

Yeah, I mean, and I think one thing that I really love about this show is that, you know, we are shining a light on untold stories and heroes of Black history, especially in this instance when it comes to women who have been at the forefront of opening the door to certain conversations and also pushing for our advancement and ensuring access to equal rights for all of us.

One of the rights they protected is our right to vote. In America, we all allegedly got the constitutional right to vote. Allegedly. Regardless of race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. And that's on the Civil Rights Act of 1964. And we can thank the star of our next two episodes for helping that get passed. Let's get into some black history for real.

It's June 9th, 1963. Fannie Lou Hamer's on the bus back to Mississippi. The night air is warm and humid. She catches the white driver looking at her through his mirror. His eyes slide to the other black activist. He's furious. Fannie and her friends are sitting close to the front, in the whites-only section. The tension is cut by nothing but the creak of the bus over the bumpy road.

The white passengers stare uncomfortably. The stares and discomfort aren't anything new to Fannie. It's her job as a peaceful protester to make people uncomfortable. Y'all need to move to the back of the bus where you belong. The bus driver's a broken record and the white passengers not in agreement. Fannie and the other activists didn't care when he said it before. They still don't care now. Fannie doesn't dignify him with a response. Neither does anyone else in the group.

The driver's hands tighten on the wheel. His knuckles turn white as bleached bone. If y'all don't move back, I'm calling the police at the next stop. Fanny's not scared. She doesn't have time to be. She's over this type of treatment. When she says she's sick and tired of being sick and tired, she feels it deep in her bones. The driver pulls into Winona, Mississippi. He runs off and goes straight to a payphone.

Minutes later, police cars fly into the parking lot. Fannie sees the driver go right up to them and point at the group, before turning to point at her. Fannie's been at this for years, fighting for her rights and others. She's about to see just how angry her activism's making these white folks in Mississippi.

Forget one-size-fits-all diets. With Noom, you get a personalized weight loss plan that's tailored to your lifestyle. No food is off-limits. Enjoy your favorites while discovering healthier habits. Noom's users love the flexible approach, blending psychology and biology to help you lose weight in a way that's sustainable for you. Stay focused on what's important to you with Noom's psychology and biology-based approach.

Sign up for your trial today at Noom.com. That's N-O-O-M dot com. And check out Noom's first ever cookbook, The Noom Kitchen, for 100 healthy and delicious recipes to promote better living. Available to buy now wherever books are sold.

Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. Recently, I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to raise prices due to inflation. They said yes. And then when I asked if raising prices technically violates those onerous two-year contracts, they said, what the f*** are you talking about, you insane Hollywood a**hole?

So to recap, we're cutting the price of Mint Unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch. $45 up front for three months plus taxes and fees. Promote rate for new customers for a limited time. Unlimited more than 40 gigabytes per month. Slows. Full terms at mintmobile.com.

From Wondery, this is Black History For Real, where we chronicle the stories of movers and shakers from black history all over the world. The stories will inspire you,

educate you, and more often than not, be you shaking your damn head. I'm Consciously, and I'm Francesca Ramsey. Today, we're introducing our two-part series on a civil rights leader Malcolm X called the country's number one freedom-fighting woman, Fannie Lou Hamer. Fannie went from being a poor sharecropper to one of the most important leaders of the civil rights movement.

Once she found out she had the right to vote, nothing was going to stop her from spreading that word. But listen, a lot of powerful people ain't want the word to be spread. But see, Fannie's activism comes at a heavy personal cost. She comes close to death multiple times as she puts her literal blood, sweat, and tears for it in fighting for our people. This is episode one. Stand up.

Mississippi, 1923. It's a disgustingly hot day, and six-year-old Fannie Lou Hamer's out in the fields of a plantation. She lives with her mother, Luella, and her father, James Lee. She's the last of their 20—that's right, 20—children. Seven of Fannie's siblings died before she was born. Food was scarce. Medical care, scarcer. Being black in Mississippi didn't help either.

Fanny's a bright kid. She loves going to school, even if she can only go four months out of the year. Right now, she's learning to read and she loves it. In the field, Fanny can see her mother and father bent down picking cotton and putting it in their burlap sacks. Her mother wipes her brow before grimacing and returning to work. At least Fanny doesn't have to do that type of work yet. Instead, she plays by the road. A car rumbles up next to Fanny.

A white man steps out and walks over to her. A giant smile plastered on his face. It's a plantation owner. Hey there. Fanny doesn't know much about the world yet, but she knows she's gotta be careful when she's talking to these white folks. Hello, sir. Can you pick cotton, girl? Fanny looks over at her parents. She sees how tired they are at the end of the day. Seems like hard work. I don't know, sir. The plantation owner is not trying to hit at it.

Yes, you can. If you do, I'll give you things you want from the commissary store. Cracker Jacks, sardines. Fanny's family's destitute. There's barely enough food to go around, so this offer's sounding pretty good. Okay, sir. I can. She's too young to understand it, but Fanny's been tricked into being a sharecropper. It's really...

incredible to recognize that her parents were already working, but they weren't making enough to sustain themselves. And so instead of being paid fair wages for their work,

This man has to rope a child into doing the job. I mean, it's just it's it's crazy. Yeah. And not only is it crazy, I think it illustrates the history that black folks have with the law. You feel me? I think that we always have an illegitimate relationship with the law, depending on our status or depending on how the law is enforced when it comes to our bodies. And for me, it's just that the beginning of this story starts in the 1920s.

Not during Reconstruction Era, the 1920s. So the fact that we still talking about, you know, the plantation and we still talking about commissary. Listen, I got a lot of homeboys that's waiting on commissary, mail, and a release date. So the fact that this was the terminology being used at this time, and we're going to get into the land lease prison system later on. But this right here, you feel me showing like the way the prison industrial complex is set up, you know, is very similar.

to the plantation. Yeah, and thinking about the manipulation tactics in the prison system, but it's not just the prison system, right? Like, think about how many students are preyed upon in order to get recruited into the army. You get a chance to go to school. You get a chance to get a regular paycheck. You get a chance at health

care, dental insurance, right? And people saying, well, I need certain things and this is not really an ideal situation, but I'll trade one thing for another. And to your point, it is predatory and it is something that we've seen throughout history. And again, I am a broken record on this podcast, but it continues to this day, which is why we need to be critical of it, correct? Okay.

Oh, yeah. You need to be very critical while acknowledging that there are people that's actively trying to get it out the history books for us to know this real reality. But also just thinking about how this sounds so familiar. I just got done having a conversation with this organization called the Right Way Foundation. That's about being able to help Californians that get out of prison. You feel me? Be able to move around. You know what I'm saying? In California.

about foster care specifically, you know what I'm saying? And about how when people get out of foster care, you know what I'm saying? They start to get into the highway to homelessness. And what I thought about, you know what I'm saying? From talking to the Right Way Foundation and this other foundation that's dealing more with criminal justice is,

The ability to trick someone or manipulate someone into a situation based off of false pretenses. You see it go all the way back to the plantation. But it's used now to get different black people throughout this country to sign plea deals. Because, you know what I'm saying? You'll go in a room. You just get two bad options. And they say, shit, you already did four months, five months, a year. They give you time served. They tell you what time served. You'll be able to get out. Yeah.

You don't have the money to have a lawyer. You're assigned somebody who probably is overworked and has too many cases as is. And to your point, you're being pushed to plead because it's like, well, this is the easier option. This is all you're going to get. Well, I say not only is it only going to me right now, just really thinking about the society we live in right now and how in different states it is illegal, illegal to talk about racial discrimination in terms of the law.

My home state of Florida is trying to push that right now. My home state of Texas as well. My southern sister. When you think about it though, it's like, "Hey, y'all the people that said that y'all want to keep real history when we were taking down statues, you can't change history. Y'all also one of the people that's talking about being able to always appeal the truth and making it where we don't get too woke and star-spread." Like, what?

Facts over feelings. But it sounds like your feelings are getting in the way of us talking about history. It may feel uncomfortable. It's talking about some alternative facts, what they all talking about. The alternative facts that says that when you guys talk about reparations, that is way back in the day and nobody alive today worked on the plantation whole time. Our grandmothers literally, you know what I'm saying? And uncles and aunties was like on like a sharecropper. You know what I'm saying? So it's just like, ah, man, ah,

- Well, that's a perfect segue because let's go ahead and talk about what sharecropping actually is.

After the Civil War, General Sherman promises each previously enslaved family 40 acres and some are also given mules. That phrase might be familiar, of course. It would have been a small bit of reparations, but that man never hands out mules and he definitely doesn't give Black people 40 acres. Yeah, after Lincoln's assassination, President Andrew Johnson takes Sherman's orders back. Yeah, took them back.

The general had him twisted. Any black folks who actually got land, they kicked out, leaving a bunch of free black people with no land, no money, who need jobs, and cash-strapped white plantation owners who need labor.

Options are slim, and the recently freed don't really have a choice. So they go back to working land for white people as sharecroppers. Sharecroppers sign an agreement to farm land for the landowner. They have to purchase all of their tools from the landowner too. Whatever they don't owe the landowner is theirs to sell. But with the price of cotton falling, sharecroppers are trapped in an unending cycle of debt. It was almost like the payday loan of farming.

Yeah, and if they ain't paid that debt down, the sharecroppers go to jail. This right here is a damned if you do, damned if you don't. For those of us that's real familiar with history, we know the 13th Amendment says the United States federal government shall prohibit slavery except...

for punishment and conviction of crime. The except is literally the loophole of how you get to slavery and the damn to do, damn to don't part right here comes that if you don't agree to what the plantation owner is telling you about sharecropping, you can go to jail and then be a slave or you can just agree to the enslavement captivity now. So sharecropping is essentially slavery, the remix.

As summer winds down, let your imagination soar by listening on Audible. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, new ways of thinking. With Audible, there's more to imagine when you listen.

And speaking of listening, you can listen to the best-selling science fiction thriller Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir right now on the Audible app and traverse the galaxy in a desperate last-chance mission along with astronaut Ryland Grace, all from the comfort of your living room.

As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalog. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. That's audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500.

Make this new school year an opportunity for your kids to learn important life skills with Greenlight. Greenlight is a debit card and money app for families where kids learn how to save, invest, and spend wisely while parents keep an eye on kids' money habits. Greenlight also helps families get into their fall routine with a chores feature that lets parents assign chores and pay kids allowance when they check them off. Get your first month free at greenlight.com slash wondery. Greenlight.com slash wondery. ♪ Black is beautiful ♪

The winters are especially tough for Fanny and her family. To get food on the table, Fanny walks miles to other plantations to get any leftover cotton others can spare. They can't afford shoes, so Fanny's mother wraps her little feet in rags. When she looks at her parents, she sees nothing but weary exhaustion. Hunger gnaws at their stomachs. There's no end in sight for the terrible life that they're all forced to live. Even glimmers of hope get snuffed out.

With time, Fanny's family saves up enough money to buy their own cows and mules. Her dad even starts renting their own land. It's a better financial situation than sharecropping. Fanny's hopes rise like birds taking flight. But a few nights later, a white man sneaks onto their land and kills the cows and mules, just because they were getting somewhere. And the family then goes back to sharecropping.

It's still 1923, and we're in the bayou, close to Fannie's home. Sharecropper Joe Pullen crouches inside a hollowed-out tree. He's terrified and in trouble. His hands worked the land his whole life. Now they work the trigger of a gun. He looks around, eyes wide with fear. Earlier today, Joe got into a fight with the landowner he works for, or should I say, worked for.

The landowner wasn't paying him, so Joe stood up for himself. The landowner shot Joe in the arm, so Joe shot back, fatally. Another white man saw it all go down and snitched on Joe. Joe hears the white mob coming for him. He loads his gun and whispers a quiet prayer. Lord, I ain't going down without a fight. One of the men in the lynch mob falls to the ground dead.

The others look around in fear. It looks like Joe might just pull this off and save his life. In the end, Joe's story ends like so many others. He's killed. The men take his body out of the swamp. They drag him from the back of a car, parading him around town like a trophy. And Fannie Lou hears all about what happened to Joe. She's only eight years old. Eight years.

Those white men face zero consequences for killing Joe. Someone who looks like Fanny. Poison hate hangs heavy in the air, but Joe's a spark of hope in that darkness. A black person fought back and he had them white men shook. Fanny's gonna be a fighter, just like Joe. The wind rattles against the thin walls of the family's three-room shack.

Fanny sits across from her mother at the table. She's got a plate of pig intestines and unseasoned greens in front of her. The scraps the white people don't want. It's the best her mother can do. Fanny imagines what the plantation owner and his family are eating in their house. It's gotta be better than this. She looks down at her lap and mumbles to herself, "I wish we were white." - What did you say, Fanny? - Her mother glares at her. She's torn between anger, sadness,

I said I wish we were white. Luella pauses for a moment and sadness wins out. Her eyes shine with sympathy. She knows what Fanny means. She just hates hearing her say it. Luella grabs Fanny's hand. Don't you say that because you're black. You respect yourself as a child, a little black child. And as you grow older, respect yourself as a black woman. Then one day other people will respect you. These words resonate with Fanny.

She hears the love of her mother's voice, but in Mississippi, it's hard to see a world where white people will ever respect her. Fannie Lou Hamer spends the next 20 years barely scraping by, and the Great Depression just makes things worse. President Roosevelt rolls out his New Deal to help struggling Americans, but white landowners keep their Black workers from getting that government help. Fannie barely sees any benefits.

At the end of each day of back-breaking work, Fannie's too tired to do much of anything. But she finds time to go to the juke joints, safe places for Black Mississippians to gather, drink, and sing the blues. Fannie loves singing. Singing lets her express emotions that words alone can't carry. Singing's the only time she feels safe. One of those juke joints is owned by a handsome man named Perry "Pap" Hamer.

And in 1944, Fanny married Pap. Fanny moves in with Pap on a plantation owned by a white man named W.D. Marlow. Fanny's the only one who knows how to read and write, so she works as a sharecropper and the timekeeper, and gets trapped in the same old oppressive system that caged her parents. Fanny and Pap want children, but babies never come.

Two miscarriages later, Pap insists she sees a doctor. During her appointment, the doctor discovers a uterine tumor. In 1961, Fanny goes to a white surgeon to have a tumor removed. But when she wakes up, she discovers something horrible. The doctor performed a hysterectomy on her without her consent. She's been involuntarily sterilized.

The way that historically Black people and Black women specifically have been experimented on when it comes to gynecology is

our consent has been just completely negated. And then to write in this moment, the way that reproductive freedoms have been stripped away and they tend to mostly impact black and brown people, right? Because even when they get rid of abortion, if you have a certain amount of money, you won't be able to get an abortion. It is...

heartbreaking and it is terrifying and it is a big part of the reason that so many young women that want to start families are afraid to start families because our medical industry has been so racist throughout history.

But to this day, the thought of going in and needing a checkup or going in because you are pregnant and you're hoping to bring a child into this world in a healthy way. And unfortunately, our pain gets negated. We are seen as less than we're seen as being so strong or you must be a drug addict. If you ask it for pain medication, it is just wild the way that our medical industry has evolved.

used, abused, and disregarded Black women from day one. And to hear that this happened to Fannie when this should have been a routine procedure to have this tumor removed, to then make a decision about her family planning abilities without her consent is heartbreaking.

Fannie talks to the other women in her community. Three-fifths of them were also forcibly sterilized. It's so common, Fannie coins it the Mississippi appendectomy. Fannie and Pap are still determined to have children and adopt four kids. They love their children. But for Fannie, the doctors crossed the final line in the sand. It's time to finally fight back, and she's going to figure out how.

It's August 1962. Fannie Lou Hamer attends a meeting that changes the course of her life. A group of mostly black college students who organize peaceful protests lead the meeting. They call themselves the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, or SNCC for short. After all the indignity she's faced, Fannie's ready for battle.

The meeting takes place at William Chapel Church in Ruleville, Mississippi. An activist named James Forman delivers an impassioned speech about the importance of peaceful protests. And then James says something that changes Spanish life forever. She has the right to vote.

At age 44, it's the first time Fannie hears this news. James tells everyone in attendance that voting is crucial. Black people's votes can change democracy and maybe their lives. James' speech lights a spark in Fannie. All her life, she wondered how she could fight back against a system keeping her down.

The spirit moves through the church and she feels empowered. That day Fannie volunteers as an organizer for SNCC. She wants her vote and her people's vote too. We sliding our way in to this election season. And because we sliding ourselves in this election season, I'm going to hear a lot of y'all saying preposterous things. Stating it very clearly. Do not disrespect my ancestors and boiling down their lives to just being merely about a tool of democracy.

They did not die to vote. They were murdered because some individual didn't want to recognize their humanity or the way they assert their humanity. I repeat, do not boil down the way that my ancestors was done when it comes to this idea of voting, because you want people to be civically engaged. Do not reduce our lives down to that way, because in my mind, that is the fungibility that we're dealing with right now. You feel me? If you want people to vote, figure out ways to do that.

without denigrating ancestors' lives as just merely being about they died to vote. Fannie Lou Hammer felt that voting would be a tool for her to get the humanity that she wanted, that she was looking for. And I think you bring up a really important point about not reducing it in that way, in the same way that we can't reduce voting to be the be-all, end-all to making change. But make no mistake, they will put as many barriers as possible behind

To keep you from voting, which what does that tell you? Oh, if you're if you're incarcerated, you can't vote. OK, well, if I was unfairly incarcerated and now you don't want me to participate in the process that might make a more just world for other, you know, former incarcerated people or people who are being funneled into the prison system. Why is that? Because, you know, that voting is powerful. You know that it does have the power to change. Again, it's at the be all end all. You know, as they say, there's many ways to skin a cat.

And I love cats. And I don't love cats. But I'm saying... Shout out to Peter. We don't want to smoke with you, Peter. That's what you're saying. I don't want to smoke with them. No, I absolutely don't. But the saying stands that there are many ways to accomplish something. And voting is just one part of a larger puzzle. So you're right. We should not reduce, you know, the work that our ancestors did in such a way that negates the work that they did and also the barriers that they faced.

were able to push past and the people who, to your point, were willing to kill people, willing to kill Black people in order to keep us from voting. - What? - Don't reduce it to one small thing.

Not only is it not a concept that I learned when I was a college policy debater was the concept of circumvention and how when you pass a law or you make a precedent that it can be circumvented through the law. We started off this episode talking about a particular civil rights act. I believe it's 1964. When you do the little research and you see what happened after 1964 to Frankie's point, there were a lot of different pieces of legislation that

that attempted to roll back the access that black people had to be able to vote you feel me whether we're talking about current times now and voter id laws or whether we're talking about the literal literacy test or the literal ways that they try to you know create grandfather clauses these are all ways that i think that a lot of white americans and a lot of white adjacent americans and even a lot of black americans that's lost in the south the patriotism

They have a hard time coming to grips with this romanticized idea of the American dream and how great America is. It's usually always from a very empirically false reality. You see what I'm saying?

Which goes back to what we were talking about earlier, that like, not to give them any credit for it, but you can't know what you don't know. And if you haven't been taught certain things, then the way that our history has been watered down, there are a lot of things that, again, the reason that this show exists, right, is to open people's perspectives. Because a lot of people who are so staunch about how America's the best and everybody has the same opportunities, you don't even know our real history. You don't know what you're talking about.

out on God because a lot of y'all want to compartmentalize you feel me racial oppression that the government sanction being stopping at 1865 acting as if the homie the cousin of the plantation Jim Crow wasn't during a time where most of our family members that's alive today was able to experience that

So when we seeing right here what's going on with Fannie, it's like, hey, we seen the story started in the 1920s. In the 1920s, we can acknowledge that's like, you know, 60 years after the Emancipation Proclamation. And then in 1960s, 40 more years, 80 years after the Emancipation, you still see that black people are having to fight to vote.

The thing that pissed me off when I was getting ready for this episode was me thinking about in the classroom how much the 13th Amendment, the 14th Amendment, and the 15th Amendment are championed as the pieces of legislation that really proves how great American democracy is. And the three pieces of legislation that's really pushed and really taught the children that, hey, these are three laws right here that made your black ass be able to be here. Now, we got you off the plantation, we gave you citizenship, and we gave you the right to vote.

What does that mean in the reality of Jim Crow? Where my freedom is always, you know what I'm saying? So it becomes like, what are we talking about when we start talking about how we stuck in the past or how you're making up this, that, and the other? It's like, hey, the government sanctioned plantation and sanctioned Jim Crow to it.

So when we thinking about what Fannie's talking about and what she going through, best believe that historically speaking at that time, the American government was taking less things that other governments was doing and using it as a justification to spread democracy.

or help instability or stop a dictator. Meanwhile, they terrorizing their own folks. The last thing I'll say on this is, you know what I'm saying? In the most smoothest way, when we think about what's going on in the world, because, you know, Huey P. Newton said, think globally and act locally. A reason why a lot of people, a lot of black folks uniquely feel compelled about what's going on in the world is because we know what ethnic racism

segregation looks like. And we know what Jim Crow was and made it where because of your skin color, you can't drive on particular roads or you can't be able to get into certain spaces and places. So when you think about how that can be reflective to other places in the world, it shouldn't be a surprise why black folks ain't going for it. Because this is black history for real. And black history for real, sometimes it's a little bit uncomfortable.

Black history for real, sometimes it hits you in the face a little bit and force you to see reality in a way that you might not be fond of. But it don't change that it's black history for real. This season, Instacart has your back to school. As in, they've got your back to school lunch favorites, like snack packs and fresh fruit. And they've got your back to school supplies, like backpacks, binders, and pencils. And they've got your back when your kid casually tells you they have a huge school project due tomorrow.

Let's face it, we were all that kid. So first call your parents to say I'm sorry, and then download the Instacart app to get delivery in as fast as 30 minutes all school year long. Get a $0 delivery fee for your first three orders while supplies last. Minimum $10 per order. Additional terms apply. Indianola, Mississippi. August 1962. Fannie sits on a bus with 17 other black SNCC activists.

Their mission? Registering to vote. But that's not going to be easy. The bus slowly rolls to a stop in front of the Indianola courthouse. Through the windows, Fanny sees white men with guns guarding the building, looking for trouble. She glances around at her fellow passengers. Everybody was talking a big game about that SNCC meeting where the plan came together. But now that they're actually here...

They're stuck on mute and frozen with fear. Everyone's terrified. Fanny is too. But the group needs to lead them. She takes a deep breath, stands up, and walks off the bus. Slowly but surely, the rest of the volunteers follow. Fanny keeps her head up high as she walks past the armed white men and into the courthouse.

She leads the group down the hall of the registrar's office. Everyone looks straight ahead. They ignore the looks of surprise hatred from the white people inside. Fannie goes through the door into the registrar's office and gets the registrar's attention. "We're here to register to vote." The registrar shakes his head. "Only two of y'all can be in here at a time. The rest just gonna have to wait outside." The group chooses Fannie and another activist named Ernest Davis to remain in the office.

Everyone else leaves. Fanny watches them disappear outside. If she's nervous and she has a reason to be, she doesn't let it show. If y'all really want to vote, you're going to have to pass this here literacy test. He makes Fanny and Ernest copy down a section of the Constitution word for word. They do it without issue, too. Reddy Starr stares at Fanny and Ernest with a smug look.

Now interpret what you just wrote. Tell me what it means. Fanny looks down at the words she copied. It's complicated legal jargon. She can't do it. He snatches back the paper and orders them out. Fanny and Ernest walk towards the door. But before she grabs the handle, Fanny turns and confidently walks back towards the registrar. He looks up in surprise. You'll see me every 30 days until I pass.

The group climbs back onto the bus and heads home. On the way, police pulls them over. They arrest the driver because the bus is too yellow. Fannie and the rest of the group are stranded. She sees everyone on the bus getting scared. And that fear can tip right over into panic. She taps into something that always calms her. She sings movement songs and her voice soothes the passengers.

One of the songs she sings is This Little Light of Mine. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Oh, this little light of mine, I'm gonna let it, let it shine. The group was eventually fined $100, but they managed to scrape together the money. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Fanny gets dropped off at Marlo's plantation as the sun sets. She ain't get her voter registration today, but she's more determined than ever. Stepping inside her home, she sees her daughter crying. Fanny tries to comfort her. What's wrong, baby? Through tears, her daughter tells her that Marlo's hopping mad about Fanny's attempts to register and vote, and Pap confirms it's true.

When Marlo's car pulls up in front of the home, after some hesitation, she meets him on the front porch. What's the trouble? Fanny and Marlo square off. Marlo orders her to rescind her registration, but Fanny refuses. The days of white people bossing her around are over. Marlo kicks Fanny off the plantation, but Pap and the kids have to stay. It's almost harvest time, and Fanny walks off into the night alone.

In late 1962, activist Charles McLaurin comes looking for Fannie. Snick is having a conference at Fisch University, a historically black college university in Nashville, and he wants Fannie to go. Gawain puts her in more danger, but she really ain't have another choice. She says yes and heads to the conference.

Back at the Marlow plantation, W.D. Marlow is still mad as a kicked hornet's nest. He takes that anger out on Pap and the family. He repossesses the family's car as well as their belongings, all because Fanny dared register to vote and stood up to him. Eventually, Pap and the kids move in with Fanny. They're all forced to live off her $10 stipend from SNCC.

Fannie works with SNCC to spread awareness about voting rights through voter education workshops across the South. On January 10th, 1963, she finally gets her voter registration. She's making a difference, but she's also making hella enemies. Hella. On June 9th, 1963, Fannie Lou Hamer is on her way home from South Carolina. She just completed a citizenship training program.

Other SNCC activists are with it. They've been traveling all day and all night, and they've been ignoring the driver's instruction to move to the back of the bus. When they stop at the Winona bus stop, Fannie stays on. Her fellow activists are hungry, but they're refused service at the lunch counter, whites only. It won't be the worst part of their day. Fannie's ears of activism in the Jim Crow South catch up to her as the police come screaming into the lot.

Violence erupts with their arrival. They kick, shove, and beat the activists. - Fannie ain't one to just let this happen. So boom, she gets off the bus and Fannie races over the hill, ignoring her friend's cries to stay out of it. A white officer grabs her and knocks Fannie to the ground. His foot slams into her body and rattles her bones. She and the others are shoved into police cars

and taken to jail. Soon, the real nightmare truly begins. Police officers throw Fannie into a cell. The cries of other SNCC activists fill the jail with ghostly wails. The police have been questioning them, torturing them, one by one. Now it's Fannie's turn. State Highway Patrolman John Lutilis Basinger snaps at Fannie.

Where you from? Ruhrville. Yeah, we're gonna check on that. Fanny waits for what feels like an eternity. Basinger returns with other officers in tow. Oh, you're from Ruhrville, all right. We saw all that trouble you been stirring up. We gonna make sure you wish you was dead. Come on. They drag Fanny to another jail cell. Two black men are locked up inside.

Basing her hand's a leather blackjack to one of the inmates. Go on, beat her. The man takes the weapon in his shaking hands and lifts it slowly. Fanny makes eye contact with the man. You mean you would do this to your own race? The inmate hesitates and shame blooms inside his chest. He doesn't want to do this. Do as you're told, else they'll be held apart.

The first inmate beats Fanny with the blackjack. When he gets tired, he switches places with the second inmate, who continues to beat. They rain down blows going back and forth until Fanny's flesh is covered in cuts and gashes. After they finish, Basinger kicks Fanny. Get on up. But Fanny can't.

So the officers drag her out back into the cell with fellow activist, Uvestor Simpson. Fanny's injuries are severe, and Uvestor knows the officers aren't going to provide any medical help. She tends to Fanny's wounds, but she doesn't have medical expertise or any tools. Uvestor's terrified that her dear friend might die, but she has to keep hope alive. What else can she do? So she does what Fanny has done in the past to get the activists through tough times.

Yves Esther sings to Fanny, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." And slowly, weakly, Fanny joins in. Let it shine. Let it shine. Let it shine.

If you like Black History for Real, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.

This is episode one of our two-part series on Fannie Lou Hamer. We use multiple sources when researching our stories, including PBS, Mississippi History Now, and the SNCC Digital Gateway. A note, our scenes contain reenactments and dramatized details for narrative cohesiveness. Black History for Real is hosted by me, Francesca Ramsey. And me, Pontius Lee. Black History for Real is a production of Wondery. It's a production of Wondery.

This episode was written by Austin S. Harris. Sound design by Greg Schweitzer. The theme song is by Terrace Martin. Lindsey Gomez is the development producer. The coordinating producer is Taylor Sniffin. Sophia Martins is our managing producer. Our producer is Matt Ginn. Sonia May is our associate producer. Morgan Gibbons is our senior producer.

The executive producers for Wondery are Marsha Louis, Erin O'Flaherty, and Candice Malik-Azrin. Across America, BP supports more than 300,000 jobs to keep our energy flowing. Jobs like updating turbines at one of our Indiana wind farms and producing more oil and gas with fewer operational emissions in the Gulf of Mexico. It's and, not or.

See what doing both means for energy nationwide at bp.com slash investing in America.