In 1964, I was a little girl sitting on the linoleum floor of my mother's house in Milwaukee, watching Anne Bancroft present the Oscar for best actor at the 36th Academy Awards. She opened the envelope and said five words that literally made history: "The winner is Sidney Poitier." Up to the stage came the most elegant man I had ever seen. I remember his tie was white and, of course, his skin was black. And I'd never seen a black man being celebrated like that.
And I have tried many, many, many times to explain what a moment like that means to a little girl, a kid watching from the cheap seats, as my mom came through the door bone-tired from cleaning other people's houses. But all I could do is quote and say that the explanation in Sidney's performance in "Lilies of the Field": Amen, amen. Amen, amen.
In 1982, Sidney received the Cecil B. DeMille Award right here at the Golden Globes, and it is not lost on me that at this moment there are some little girls watching as I become the first black woman to be given the same award. It is an honor and it is a privilege to share the evening with all of them and also with the incredible men and women who've inspired me, who've challenged me, who've sustained me and made my journey to this stage possible: Dennis Swanson, who took a chance on me for "A.M. Chicago"; Quincy Jones, who saw me on that show and said to Steven Spielberg, "Yes, she is Sofia in 'The Color Purple'"; Gayle [King], who has been the definition of what a friend is, and Stedman [Graham], who has been my rock, just a few to name.
I'd like to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press Asssociation, because we all know that the press is under siege these days. But we also know that it is the insatiable dedication and the absolute truth that keeps us from turning a blind eye to corruption and injustice, to tyrants and victims and secrets and lies. I want to say that I value the press more than ever before as we try to navigate these complicated times, which brings me to this: What I know for sure is that speaking your truth is the most powerful tool we all have. And I'm especially proud and inspired by all the women who have felt strong enough and empowered enough to speak up and share their personal stories.
Each of us in this room are celebrated because of the stories that we tell. And this year we became the story. But it's not just a story affecting the entertainment industry. It's one that transcends any culture, geography, race, religion, politics or workplace. So I want tonight to express gratitude to all the women who have endured years of abuse and assault because they, like my mother, had children to feed, bills to pay and dreams to pursue.
They're the women whose names we'll never know. They are domestic workers. And farm workers. They are working in factories and they work in restaurants and they're in academia, and engineering, and medicine, and science. They're part of the world of tech and politics and business. They're our athletes in the Olympics and they're our soldiers in the military. And there's someone else: Recy Taylor. A name I know and I think you should know too.