Article written by Tyler Wiest

Steve Bingham has been a board member of Coleman Advocates for over 35 years and has dedicated his life to service, advocacy, and activism. Steve humbly didn’t share this in our interview, but he has had an illustrious career in which he was directly involved in major moments in American history, including campaigning for Robert F. Kennedy, marching with César Chávez, and participating in major campaigns that helped pave the way for the passage of the Civil Rights Act.

Much of what Bingham has done has involved incredible selflessness, such as traveling nearly 2,000 miles to live in a farmhouse while helping register people to vote in Mississippi, or spending 2 years serving in Sierra Leone with the Peace Corps. I had the great pleasure of learning about the journey he took and what he loves about our organization. I’m happy to share a summary of our conversation here.

Tell me about how you got involved in advocacy

I was in college from 1960 to 1964, during the early stages of the modern civil rights movement. Sit-ins were happening in the South, for example in Greensboro, North Carolina. I was very aware of all of that and interested in what was happening.

During the 1963 fall semester of my senior year, people came to Yale wanting to recruit students for a project in Mississippi called the Aaron Henry Mock Election campaign.

In Mississippi, there were only about 12 Black people registered to vote, even though there were tens of thousands of eligible voters. Through the creative use of literacy requirements and other barriers, most of them were prevented from registering.

The Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee, which was part of a broader coalition – Council of Federated Organizations (COFO) -that included Martin Luther King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference, the NAACP, and CORE, put together a mock election campaign.

The candidate for governor was a Black pharmacist from Clarksdale and his running mate was Ed King, the chaplain at Tougaloo College, a historically Black college in Mississippi. That was very intentional to have a Black and a white to show that it was not the black equivalent of the all-white Mississippi state government.

It was the idea that blacks were also entitled to entitled to participate in a state-wide election. When we went down to Mississippi, it was earthshaking, emotionally. I came from a fairly upper-class white background, so to be in Mississippi—what a history professor later described in his book Mississippi: The Closed Society—was really like being in a foreign country. It shook the foundations of who I was. I worked in the press office because I was on Yale’s daily newspaper.

Eighty thousand people voted in that election. It later formed part of the basis for the challenge that the COFO coalition brought against the all-white Mississippi delegation at the Democratic National Convention in Atlantic City in 1964. The Democratic Party officials offered the group a token seat, but COFO rejected the offer. Still, the effort was very successful as it played a big part in the passage of the Voting Rights Act, part of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

It was partly a test to see whether Northern college students could work alongside field organizers from Mississippi, and it worked fairly well. Consequnently a decision was made to organize a much larger project the following summer to encourage Mississippi blacks to register to vote.

That project, Mississippi Freedom Summer, became known nationally because three civil rights workers were murdered by members of the Ku Klux Klan. Those killings were an additional factor helping build support for passage of the Civil Rights Act. Freedom Summer was a great example of how ordinary people, organizing together, can change the course of history.

Although change did not happen immediately, it came within a year. Dedicated activists truly were able to change the world. There is a lot of cynicism today and a feeling of being overwhelmed. Yet when I look back on that experience, I’m reminded that ordinary people can build an organization and create change. That, in a nutshell, is what first got me excited about this kind of work.together, can change the course of history.

Take us From for 1960 to when you first got to Coleman, what happened in your life that led you to our organization?

After graduating from college, I came to California and attended Berkeley Law School, interrupting studies for two years to join the Peace Corps in Sierra Leone, in West Africa. After passing the bar, I began working with Berkeley Neighborhood Legal Services.

Soon after joining a private progressive law firm in 1971, I was wrongly accused in connection with the deaths of prison guards during an alleged prison escape attempt by famed Black Panther inmate, George Jackson.

The false accusations forced me to leave the country for 13 years, living in exile-mostly in France. While there, I worked as a house painter and renovated apartments. I also met my future wife there. I returned to the United States in late 1983 and surrendered to authorities in July, 1984. The legal process took 2 years. On June 26, 1986, I was acquitted of all charges by a jury, which only voted once.

After the trial, I initially worked for a private law firm specializing in employee pension law, but I found that the work wasn’t a good fit for me. In 1990, I joined Bay Area Legal Aid as a staff attorney in the public benefits unit. I represented clients who were applying for or being denied benefits such as Supplemental Security Income (SSI), Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC), now CalWORKS, and the food stamps program, now known as SNAP and CalFresh.

My clients’ incomes were below 125% of the federal poverty line. Through my legal work, I became deeply involved in advocacy within San Francisco’s welfare system, regularly appearing at hearings challenging decisions of the San Francisco Department of Human Services and appearing in front of the Human Services Commission.

That work brought me into contact with Coleman Advocates, particularly through Margaret Brodkin. At some point, Margaret asked me to join the board, and I’ve been here ever since. One of the things that most attracted me to Coleman was its commitment to developing youth leadership.

Young people who had never spoken publicly before would join programs like PMAC and YMAC, work collectively, and within months be speaking before the Board of Education and advocating for meaningful change.

Many of those young people went on to become community leaders. John Avalos became a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, and Sandy Fewer served on the San Francisco Board of Education.

Watching young people discover their voice and build their confidence was just as inspiring as the policy victories themselves.

Now that you’re reaching your retirement, what can you say about Coleman’s Future?

I’m very excited about Coleman’s future.

When Mfalme first came on board, his leadership style was very different from what we had experienced in the past. At first, I think some board members, including myself, were unsure what to expect.

But his enthusiasm and creativity are extraordinary. Coleman has always done important work and remained true to its mission, but Mfalme consistently challenges us to think beyond traditional approaches and imagine new possibilities.

He’s constantly looking for innovative ways to strengthen Coleman’s impact and deepen our connections throughout the community. That’s why I’m so enthusiastic about Coleman’s future.

I believe we’re going to continue expanding our partnerships and working more closely with other organizations that share our commitment to supporting young people and their families.

Do you want to share anything with our audience?

I think this is an especially difficult time for many young people and families. There is tremendous fear among immigrant communities. Many students worry that, when they leave for school, they may come home and discover that a parent has been detained or deported. Even students who are citizens often feel vulnerable because of the climate of fear and uncertainty around them.

In all my years of working with families in San Francisco, I can’t remember another period so troubling. That means organizations like Coleman have an important responsibility. We need to address these challenges directly, provide support, help families access resources, and reassure people that they are not facing these struggles alone.

But the most important lesson I’ve learned throughout my life is that people can accomplish far more collectively than they ever could individually. It doesn’t require a huge movement. Sometimes meaningful change begins with a small group of committed people coming together around a shared purpose.

As Coleman continues to grow, I hope we continue building strong partnerships with other nonprofits and community organizations throughout the city. The challenges facing young people today are too large for any one organization to solve alone. The more we collaborate, the more effective we can be. And history has shown that when people work together, they really can change the world.

If you would like to view the abridged version of this interview on video, you can do so here: https://youtu.be/fEzwM9DO6x8