The fourteen new Queens members of the City Council were all there as were several large handfuls of other elected officials, most notably Mayor Mike Bloomberg who swore Helen in.

What was evident was this was a celebration of black Queens and black New York coming into their own. The headline on the front page of the PRESS of Southeast Queens last week read "Black Power" above a picture of Bloomberg, Helen, Comptroller Carl McCall and Queens’ most powerful man of color, Reverend Floyd Flake.

In addition to Helen, City Councilmen Leroy Comrie, Allen Jennings and James Sanders, the Comptroller and Flake, the list of African Americans in attendance included Manhattan Beep C. Virginia Fields, Congressman Gregory Meeks, State Senators Ada and Malcolm (no relation) Smith, Assemblymen Bill Scarborough and emcee Jeffrey Aubry, Queens Democratic powerhouse former Council Deputy Speaker Archie Spigner, new City Comptroller Bill Thompson, NY Secretary of State Randy Daniels, Deputy Mayor Dennis Walcott, Dean of the NY Congressional delegation Charlie Rangel and everybody’s elder statesman, former Manhattan Borough President, powerbroker Percy Sutton. I’m sure I missed a batch. And at least half the non-VIP attendees were people of color.

They came to cheer Helen and this watershed black event. It was an uplifting moment of pride. Black Power was celebrated without fists raised or whites alienated.

As we sat in the office that afternoon writing the front page "Black Power" headline for the Press, Tamara, Press Associate Publisher Marcia Comrie, managing editor Stephen McGuire and I debated the message of the words "Black Power."

Did the image conveyed by the speakers and main players at the ceremony deserve to be labeled Black Power?

Can you use the words without conveying the defiance of the 1968 Mexico Olympics when Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists to the playing of the Star Spangled Banner during the medal ceremony?

Do we equate the day and the people with H. Rap Brown, Angela Davis, Stokely Carmichael, Bobby Seale, the Black Panthers, Eldridge Clever, wow?

The words bring back great memories for this liberal who walked the picket lines of the sixties and read the black literature of the decade of rebellion. There was no shame in Black Power then — there was only a question whether some individuals went too far. And there is absolutely no shame now. On the contrary, there is pride.

We are all proud of Helen Marshall. We are proud that Queens, the most multi-cultural place on earth selected a person of color as its leader. We are proud that blacks, white, Asians and Latinos can all celebrate the moment.

Helen Marshall & Mike Schenkler photo: Dee Richard

We are proud that the people voted for Helen because they thought she was qualified. She earned the position on merit, not on color. We fervently hope that Helen was elected because of her ability, not her skin. There is nothing wrong with blacks taking pride in one of their own being elected to office; but there can be no real pride if the election was tainted with votes motivated by ethnicity and not ethics.

When Joe Lieberman was selected as the vice presidential candidate on the Democratic line during the last national election, I found some pleasure in finally knowing that a Jew was accepted into that previously exclusive club. I was proud of Lieberman, but critical of his frequent reference to God and his religion. I was glad that he lessoned the frequency of reference as the campaign progressed. Joe was getting my vote because I felt George W. was worse than Al Gore. Yeah, it was the case of the lesser of two meatballs, not religious pride.

Latinos celebrated the success of Freddy Ferrer — a quality candidate who could have been Mayor. Freddy was great; he still is.

John Liu, the City’s first Asian councilmember, is a hero in the Chinese community.

Firsts are big deals. Firsts are gratifying and bring celebration and pride when they are achieved through hard work and merit.

Helen, right on sister!

It’s funny, when I think back to the Black Power of those days gone by, Dr. Martin Luther King doesn’t come to mind. His message was more cerebral and spiritual — he dreamed of the Promised Land as opposed to Borough Hall. And next week the nation celebrates his birth.

It was Martin Luther King who had a most profound effect on this writer and his politics towards race. I remember the March on Washington, I was there for the 1968 Poor People’s March. Somewhere I have recordings of his speeches, my library contains his work, and he was an inspiration to my students and me for the four years I spent as a classroom teacher.

I remember working on a current events unit with my fifth-sixth grade class in P.S. 219 Queens. Two thirds of my students were from Kew Gardens Hills and one third bussed in from South Ozone Park — it must have been 1970. The unit culminated in a celebration of Martin Luther King with a multi-media auditorium presentation of King’s life and student work. It was my earliest creative effort that I remember with pride. It was outstanding. It was 32 years ago.

I still remember some of the words written by my talented and gifted 11 and 12 year olds.

Debbie Tarply, a delightful, sensitive black girl from South Ozone Park who I haven’t heard from in 32 years, wrote these words that still remain in my head:

And Debbie’s classmate, Susan Lebow, a bright, white girl from Kew Gardens Hills who came to my home maybe a decade ago raising money for NYPIRG — and I thought then, maybe I had some effect — penned these words that are still with me:

It’s funny, when I think back to the days gone by, I also think about Helen Marshall.

I met her in 1957ish. My dad was principal of P.S. 143 in Corona; Helen was president of the Parent-Teacher Association. When I interviewed her during the campaign we chatted about the school. We both remembered being at the dedication of the original Langston Hughes Library on Northern Boulevard, we both recalled prominent Corona resident Malcolm X and his kids. As Jeff Aubry explained during the ceremony, Helen got her Doctorate on Northern Boulevard. She then went on to Queens College and has since become one of the City’s most vital fighters for higher education.

I also remember being one of the organizers of Freedom Week on the Queens College campus in 1964. I remember meeting dozens of civil rights leaders and sharing thoughts and tactics with hundreds of students. I remember the activity that culminated our weeklong celebration of the fight for equality — we marched on the opening of the ’64 World’s Fair at Flushing Meadows. We picketed the New York City Pavilion — now the Queens Museum — protesting the de facto segregation in City schools. Some of us then marched on the Schaefer Beer Pavilion to protest their policies of job discrimination. It was my first and only struggle with the law and near arrest. I’ll always remember that one.

My past is filled with memories of the struggle — a struggle that I always felt was my struggle — a struggle for equality for Black Americans. I guess it became my struggle because it was my father’s struggle. Dad was a Queens school principal who saw problems and tried to fix them. Saw injustice and felt violated. He took every societal injustice personally. I’m grateful for his legacy.

And now that I’ve rambled all over the subject and shared personal reflections of a Queens kid growing up during the civil rights struggle, I come back to Thursday’s celebration of Helen.

The celebration was brief . . . we were back in the office in three hours. And now the job begins. Helen Marshall must lead this borough of two million people. She must stimulate economic growth; she must provide tens of thousands of new school seats; she must unify our diverse cultures while securing our newly threatened safety; she must protect the environment while allowing for progress; she must care for the sick and disadvantaged during an economically difficult time; she must follow a woman who set new standards for borough presidents. Helen must perform miracles.

The African Americans of this County took pride in the ceremony of last week’s swearing in. I smile and salute my old friend, Helen Marshall, a lady of grace and commitment.

And now Helen, the job begins!

What have you done for us lately?