Reverend Jesse Jackson’s iconic “I Am Somebody” declaration once again resonated with audiences of all ages when Sesame Street revisited a 1972 episode featuring the civil rights leader reciting the poem with young viewers.
In the clip, a 31-year-old Jackson stands on the show’s familiar brownstone stoop, his Afro softly rounded beneath the studio lights. He wears a purple, white, and black striped shirt and a gold medallion bearing a high-relief profile of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a tribute resting squarely over his heart.
Around him, children of multiple races and ethnicities gather close, their faces lifted as he begins the chant that would become one of the defining affirmations of the civil rights era.
Jackson’s voice carries warmth and conviction as he calls out to his audience:
“I am somebody! I may be poor. But I am somebody. I may be young, but I am somebody.”
The camera widens to reveal a semicircle of boys and girls—Black, brown, and white—mirroring his cadence, the youthful embodiment of the multicultural Rainbow Coalition he would later build into a political force. Their response rises in unison, effortless and profound.
The children respond to Jackson’s call:
“I am Black! Brown! White! I speak a different language! But I must be respected! Protected! Never rejected! I am! God’s child! I am! Somebody!”
The timeless moment can be viewed below:
A simple message with big meaning: "I am somebody." We are grateful to Rev. Jesse Jackson for helping teach generations of children to believe in themselves and in one another. Thank you for being part of our neighborhood. 💛💚 pic.twitter.com/a7vWqUGOsh
— Sesame Street (@sesamestreet) February 17, 2026
The call-and-response was not mere television theater. By 1972, Jackson had already been leading variations of “I Am Somebody” at rallies and gatherings across the country.
A protégé of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and a rising leader within the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), Jackson understood repetition as both prayer and protest—language that could fortify the spirit and focus a movement. The notion of “somebodiness” ran through the civil rights struggle that shaped his public life.
In 1968, Jackson stood with King in Memphis during the sanitation workers’ strike, where Black workers protested dangerous and discriminatory conditions after a worker was crushed to death in a garbage truck, prohibited from sheltering in the cab because of his race. Their placards declared, “I Am A Man”—a stark insistence on dignity in the face of systemic dehumanization.
King had articulated the spiritual and political stakes of that demand in Letter from Birmingham Jail:
“One is a force of complacency, made up in part of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, are so drained of self-respect and a sense of ‘somebodiness’ that they have adjusted to segregation.”
King’s rhetoric often soared with theological and constitutional precision, while Jackson’s refrains marched to the beat—memorable, rhythmic, and accessible enough for even a smaller somebody to carry home one day.
And while chants cannot mend a fractured society, and children’s television cannot complete the unfinished work of justice, they can certainly arm young minds with language, confidence, and a sense of worth that endures long after the noise of political instability fades.
As the clip resurfaced online, viewers described it as a formative memory, proof that the lesson of “somebodiness” did not end on that brownstone stoop but traveled with them into adulthood, into protest lines, classrooms, boardrooms, and ballot boxes.
You can view the reactions below:
The clip’s resurgence comes as public broadcasting has endured relentless political pressure. During President Donald Trump’s administration, proposed budget cuts to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) reignited debates over federal support for PBS and programs like Sesame Street. While the series now streams on Netflix, its roots in publicly funded educational television remain central to its identity.
As tributes continue to pour in, Jackson’s family revealed preliminary funeral plans for the longtime activist, who died at 84 following a lengthy illness with progressive supranuclear palsy, a rare neurological disease that causes a decline similar to Parkinson’s disease but more rapid.
Born in Greenville, South Carolina, in 1941, Jackson attended the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign before transferring to North Carolina Agricultural and Technical College in Greensboro. In 1964, he moved to Chicago to attend the Chicago Theological Seminary, the city that would become both his political base, home, and now his final resting place.
Jackson is expected to lie in state at the Rainbow PUSH Coalition headquarters in Chicago. A memorial service will be held at a nearby church followed by a celebration of life at the coalition’s headquarters.
Jesse Jackson Jr., Jackson’s son, said:
“Dad would have wanted us to have a great meeting to discuss our differences, to find ways of moving forward and moving together, and if his life becomes a turning point in our national political discourse, amen.”
The family said it will work to accommodate the many mourners expected to attend what Jackson often called “great gathering meetings,” his preferred term for funerals.
It is a phrase that feels especially fitting for a man who spent his life convening crowds, whether on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, at the helm of the Rainbow PUSH Coalition, or on a brownstone stoop beside children learning to declare their worth.
Further details and service logistics will be shared at JesseJacksonLegacy.com.
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