Step one: Mobilize the vote

Elections are not ceremonies; they’re instruments of change. Municipal elections decide zoning, policing, development and education. They determine who profits and who’s pushed out. Yet in some of Boston’s Black neighborhoods, voter turnout barely cracks 15%. That means nine out of 10 eligible voices are missing when critical decisions are made.

That silence isn’t apathy, it’s exhaustion, disillusionment and at times, distrust. But if power is the ability to shape what happens next, then the vote remains our most direct and accessible tool.

We must make civic participation part of our daily rhythm, not just an occasional act. Year-round organizing, door-to-door engagement, issue education and storytelling that connects policy to lived experience, that’s how turnout becomes transformation. Voting must become a cultural expectation, not a seasonal event. Because when we don’t show up, someone else decides for us.

Step two: Build unity and coalition

Division has cost us dearly.

Vote-splitting and fragmented endorsements have diluted Black influence across Boston’s elections.

Charlotte Golar Ritchie’s 2013 mayoral campaign and the 2021 race are cautionary tales of what happens when ambition outpaces alignment.

We cannot afford fractured power. Unity doesn’t mean silencing difference, it means harnessing it toward shared outcomes. It’s about coordination, compromise and a collective understanding that no one wins if the community loses.

Coalition-building must also reach beyond our immediate circles. The future of Boston’s Black political power depends on strategic alliances with immigrant communities, labor unions and progressive networks. Shared struggle requires shared strategy. Divided, we are loud; united, we are unshakable.

Step three: Elevate emerging leaders

Boston has long celebrated personalities instead of building pipelines. When those singular figures step away, too often the infrastructure collapses behind them. We need a system that produces leaders consistently — leaders trained, mentored and connected.

That means civic leadership academies, mentorship networks and youth internships that expose the next generation to policymaking and advocacy early. It means democratizing access to knowledge and power, not guarding it.

That’s part of what inspired Politics and Prosecco, my podcast, a space where politics meets culture and conversation. We discuss the real issues with candor, humor and heart. Because civic engagement should feel like community, not a chore. It’s about creating a culture where participation is not just respected—it’s desired.

Step four: Leverage economic power

Political strength without economic muscle is fragile. City budgets, contracts and development projects determine whose neighborhoods thrive, and whose are displaced. Too often, Black communities are locked out of those rooms where the real decisions are made.

We must insist on equity not just in words but in wallets. That means fighting for fair access to city contracts, ensuring developers reinvest in our neighborhoods and building partnerships with Black-owned businesses, cooperatives and unions.

Economic strategy is political strategy.

When we own, we influence.

When we invest, we decide. Political power without economic leverage is a rented seat. It’s time to own the table.

Step five: Demand accountability and integrity

Let’s be honest: every movement faces betrayal from within.

The so-called “Deans of the community,” those who trade access for grants, visibility or contracts — have done lasting harm. They weaken institutions and erode public trust.

Accountability is not division, it’s protection. We need transparency in our organizations, honesty in our endorsements and consequences for those who prioritize self-interest over community progress.

Integrity must become our currency. Because without it, every gain we make can be undone from the inside.

Step six: Make strategy our culture

Turning presence into power isn’t a one-time campaign, it’s a cultural commitment. Strategy must be our default setting.

Voter engagement, mentorship, economic advocacy and accountability shouldn’t be exceptional, they should be expected.

We must build a community muscle memory that instinctively organizes, evaluates and mobilizes. This is about creating a system that outlasts personalities, withstands losses and builds legacy.

The difference between symbolic power and structural power is repetition. Strategy has to become a habit we live by.

Boston’s Black political community doesn’t lack talent or ambition, it lacks alignment. We have the thinkers, the doers and the dreamers. What we need now is synchronization.

Our ancestors fought without the resources we now hold. They didn’t just demand seats, they built institutions. They turned protests into policies and gatherings into movements. The baton is in our hands.

Power doesn’t wait for permission. It rewards those who prepare, who plan, who act with purpose.

We are here. We are ready. And now is the moment to act — not tomorrow, not in the next election cycle, but today.

Jacquetta Van Zandt is a seasoned political strategist, commentator, and host of the podcast Politics and Prosecco, where she blends sharp political insight with accessible conversations on policy, power and civic engagement.