Kirsten Gillibrand Is An Enthusiastic No

The Democrats’ most unlikely holy warrior smells rebellion in the air.

- Rebecca Traister

As Kirsten Gillibrand ascended to the pulpit at the Bridge Street AME Church in Bedford-Stuyvesant in late February, the congregation seemed to tense with apprehension. One of the oldest black institutions in Brooklyn, the church has played host to Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman; Congressman Hakeem Jeffries had just given a rousing speech, putting the current political moment into context by recalling how this community had survived slavery and Jim Crow (not to mention Nixon, Reagan, and George W. Bush). Now a diminutive white woman was stepping up to the microphone. Actually, to say that New York’s junior senator is white is to undersell whiteness. Kirsten Gillibrand, 50, is practically translucent.

She started off stilted, hesitant. The woman next to me looked on, thin-lipped and unimpressed. Then Gillibrand turned to the story of Esther, who, told that the Jews are about to face slaughter, realizes her responsibility to act. “Each elected leader,” Gillibrand said, her voice growing stronger, “has been placed in that position of authority for a time such as this … We are the ones who have to fight against the hateful words that come from the highest places, from the places of power in Washington.” With increasing volume and assuredness, she called on the congregation to "‘put on the full armor of God, so that on the day evil comes, today, you’ll be able to stand your ground’ … That is what we are called to do!” Gillibrand moved on to Philippians, shouting as the crowd rose to its feet, “We are the ones that God placed here at a time such as this to fight!” The woman next to me raised an eyebrow in surprised approval, and I recalled an anecdote from Gillibrand’s memoir that I had not previously believed, in which Al Sharpton referred to her as “Reverend Kirsten Gillibrand.”