Rev. Al Sharpton didn’t mince words Thursday night in Detroit. Standing before a crowd at Wayne County Community College, he laid it out plainly: “Anytime you see people that are conservative and talk about the evangelical and they will support a man convicted of 34 felonies, found guilty of sexual assault, it’s because he stands for their interests. But we want our folks to be perfect.”
Sharpton’s words touched on a reality that Black voters in Detroit—and across the country—are grappling with as the 2024 election approaches. The question of who to vote for, or whether to vote at all, sits heavy for many, especially given Donald Trump’s record. Sharpton, along with two members of the Central Park Five, Yusef Salaam and Korey Wise, came to Michigan to emphasize one point: the stakes in this election are too high to sit it out. As Rev. Sharpton reminded the crowd, a “no” vote is essentially a vote for Trump, a man who has shown his hand when it comes to fascism, sexism, racism, and other forms of discrimination that weigh on the Black community.
It’s no secret that Trump’s influence runs deep, but for Salaam and Wise, it’s personal. Three decades ago, Donald Trump publicly demanded their execution for a crime they did not commit. Yusef Salaam was just 15 years old at the time. Trump’s New York Times ads calling for the reinstatement of the death penalty—and implying it should apply to five young Black and Latino boys—remain seared in the memory of these men and their supporters. Thursday’s event wasn’t about rehashing the past, but about shedding light on what’s at stake if Black men, in particular, decide to sit this election out.
This message is crucial in Michigan, a battleground state where Black voter turnout could very well decide the outcome. Sharpton and his fellow activists have been on a nationwide Get Out the Vote tour, touching down in key states to remind voters of what’s on the line. “Michigan will become the litmus test for the power of Black voters in this election,” Sharpton declared. “That’s why we’re here—to make sure every single person who can vote, does vote.”
Their visit to Detroit was one of several stops across Michigan. They held town halls in Pontiac and Flint, moved on to a rally at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and then finished with a powerful call to action in Detroit. Alongside Sharpton and the Central Park Five members was Marc Morial, President and CEO of the National Urban League, Michigan Lieutenant Governor Garlin Gilchrist ll, NAN Michigan Chair Rev. Charles Williams ll, and Terrence Floyd, brother of George Floyd.
For decades, Rev. Sharpton has advocated for the Black community, working within the framework of the National Action Network (NAN), the civil rights organization he founded in 1991. Following in the tradition of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., NAN has long championed justice and equality, fighting against racial, social, and economic injustices that persist across the country. The message this time was simple, yet profound: Black voters, particularly Black men, must stand up and be counted.
Sharpton didn’t hold back when speaking directly to Black men. With the urgency of someone who has witnessed a history of struggle, he addressed the pervasive attitude among some who feel disconnected from a political system that has often failed them. He brought up former President Obama’s recent visit to Detroit, where he too urged Black men to support Kamala Harris and this administration’s agenda. Obama’s comments had drawn some pushback, with accusations that he was “talking down” to Black men. Sharpton’s response was direct: “Obama says let’s stop excuses, and you say he’s talking down on you. No, he’s trying to lift you up,” he stated. “All right, I’m talking down to you. I’m calling you a punk. I say this four times a day; any of you men that was born without a woman stand up. Anyone that got here that didn’t come from the womb of a woman, stand up. So how are you against what brought you in the world in the first place?”
It was a wake-up call aimed at breaking through the apathy that too often grips those who feel left behind. Sharpton shared his own journey, recalling when, at 17 years old, he was the youth director for Black presidential candidate Shirley Chisholm. Back then, he watched Black men drag her down, saying she wasn’t the right representative. “Here we are with the same argument in the new century,” Sharpton noted, shaking his head. “We got to get out of that.”
Sharpton’s urgency was mirrored by Salaam and Wise, who have spent years speaking out against Trump’s treatment of Black and brown people. They reminded the audience of Trump’s role in the wrongful conviction of five boys, of whom they were two. More than two decades after their exoneration, Trump has still refused to apologize or retract his statements. The story of the Central Park Five stands as a potent example of the way Black lives have been disregarded and criminalized without evidence—a reminder of what’s at stake if Trump or anyone who upholds similar ideologies returns to the White House.
Trump’s four years in office brought to light the impact of his policies on Black Americans. Sharpton reminded the audience that during Trump’s presidency, George Floyd was killed—a moment that reawakened a national reckoning with police violence and systemic racism. “Why are you going to hallucinate what he’s going to do if he gets back in?” Sharpton asked, letting the weight of his question linger. “Look at what he did when he was in. He was there for years. He was there when George Floyd got killed. What are you going to do now that he wouldn’t do then?”
Sharpton’s words were met with nods and murmurs of agreement. He spoke not as a political pundit but as a community elder, a witness to the historical cycles of repression that continue to target Black lives. His call to action was clear: Black men, especially, need to show up to the polls and vote with their community’s interests in mind. He emphasized that this is not a moment to sit back and watch—history is on the ballot, and the outcome of this election will shape the path forward for Black communities.
By the time the night ended, the message had sunk in. The stakes of the upcoming election are high, and for Black Detroiters, this is about more than just a political preference.