The War Within
by Bonnie Tinker
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My friend Jacqueline (Lynch) Holmes was a woman of substance.
And Ain’t She A Woman!
And ain’t she a woman!
She alone has shown
The light on the darkened path of the ancestors,
Not yet forgiving, never forgetting a moment of their pain
Ain’t she a Woman!
She has plowed and planted their seed
And gathered into her arms
The children of slavery
She sounded the alarm
Ain’t she a Woman!
And when the young men still bearing the scars of the lash of
Slavery
Gathered into so-called gangs
She bore the pain
We saw her bravery
And
She cried out! In her mother’s grief
For all God’s children to hear it
And with the talent of all her forbearers
She coined many a poetic phrase,
And (like them)
Never received credit
Only today, I say,
For all to hear it
But WAIT, no old African proverb,
Our Jacqueline Lynch Holmes
Said it!
Ain’t she a Woman!
—To Jacqui from Lisa Clay |
It wasn’t just that she was a big woman who filled the space she occupied in the world. It wasn’t just that she had a big heart, although she did — big enough for all her kids and grandkids and anyone else who needed her help. It wasn’t just that she was the first woman of color to serve as director of Bradley-Angle House, or that she helped found the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence.
Jacqueline was a woman of substance because she carried the dignity of all of her ancestors within her. It was a
big job carrying all of that history — surviving the brutality of slavery, enduring the generations of poverty, and struggling against the curtain of racist ignorance that still blinds so many in our society.
It was a big job just helping the descendents remember the ancestors while feeding the children, paying the rent, visiting the sick and imprisoned, and protecting our collective sons from gun violence and our girls from rape and violence lurking on dark corners and in the arms of dangerous lovers.
Jacqueline was up to the task.
For more than 30 years, she labored in social service, including 17 years at Albina Ministerial Alliance, 3 years at the Multnomah County Public Defenders Office, and 5 years at Bradley-Angle House, in addition to many other organizations, not to mention her own de facto consulting service that was open 24 hours a day.
Jacqueline liked to help people and believed she also deserved help when she needed it. She would say “I believe in getting my 40 acres and a mule.” Not that she ever got her land or her beast of burden. She did all of the heavy lifting herself, and like her ancestors, died without her land. What she did get was a lot of love, and a lot of respect in return for the love and respect she freely passed out.
Holmes liked to walk down the street wearing white as a reflection of her African spirituality. As she grew older, walking was hard for her, but she still looked like a ship in full sail moving down the street.
Most people knew to either stay out of the way or to get on board and help out with whatever project was under way. Jacqueline had plenty of reason to be angry or bitter; she knew the power of righteous anger and the bitter taste of injustice, but nobody ever broke Jacqueline. When she needed help she knew she wasn’t begging, just collecting what was her due.
She had a simple response about those who didn’t have sense to treat others with respect — “just fuck ‘em!” It’s a sentiment that has kept many a petty political fight in perspective for me!
Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Jacqueline didn’t confine herself to the Pacific Northwest. While working on behalf of battered women and later on the behalf of prisoners and their families, Jacqueline traveled frequently to Washington DC and across the country to lobby for justice, and also managed to go to London and to Africa three times. Each trip meant not only finding the funding, but also making sure her kids and later her grandkids would be cared for in her absence.
One lesson stands above all others as Jacqueline’s gift to her babies, her grandbabies, her great-grandbabies and her friends: She never once, never once, lost her dignity or her will to fight for justice.
Jacqueline Lynch Holmes was a freedom fighter and a community hero. And she was my friend.
Jacqueline Lynch Holmes was born in Portland, Oregon on October 28, 1949 to Henry and Lela Lynch and died in Portland at the age of 59 on February 20, 2009. She met Bonnie Tinker and Sara Graham at Bradley-Angle House. The three of them also worked at Bradley-Angle House with Lisa Clay, the author of a poem “Ain’t She a Woman,” which remembers the words of Sojourner Truth and was written as a tribute to Jacqueline. Bonnie Tinker is currently the director of Love Makes A Family and can be reached at bonnietinker@gmail.com.
