Reflections on race, justice, and timing
I’m afraid of doing something.
I’m afraid of people judging what I say or do. Or what I don’t say or do.
I’m afraid of sounding too aggressive. Or being too passive.
I’m afraid of not having the authority to say or something. Or not doing something as authoritatively as I need to.
I’m afraid of being attacked or judged by those who seek justice. Or being attacked or judged by those who defend the status quo.
I’m afraid to hold myself accountable. Or have others hold me accountable.
I’m afraid of doing nothing.
Steve Jobs said, in a very different context,
You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards.
You’ll never know you were on the cusp of history until you look back. The temperature rises in the balloon, pushing on the edges, increasing the pressure. Many, including me, thought the balloon was poised to pop in 2008 with President Obama’s election. Many thought it would pop in 2014 during the unrest in Ferguson and the rise of Black Lives Matter. Even more think it will pop now.
Dave Chappelle recounted a conversation with one of his best friends who was South African,
I asked him what it was like in South Africa right before apartheid ended and he said it was chaos in the streets. There were riots & car bombs, but the amount of people caring hit critical mass...and there was nothing they could do to stop it. The people had momentum and apartheid ended. Critical mass. That’s what we have to hit. Once enough of you care, there will be nothing they can do to stop the change.
This may be the moment. It may not be. Only time will tell. If it is, it will be because enough people decide that this is their moment to act. If it is, do I want to be a part of that critical mass?
I’m looking to be led by someone I can believe in.
Most meaningful movements in history have been led by great people. The people history remembers. People who stir change and sit outside the system of power they are fighting. People who inspire. Martin Luther King, Jr. Malcolm X. Mahatma Gandhi. George Washington. The list goes on. Even climate change seems to have found their voice in Greta Thunberg.
Who is that person for this moment? Where is that person speaking to our higher purpose and beliefs? I had hoped Barack Obama could be that person, but he’s too embedded within the system to stand for something higher. Alicia Garza? Patrisse Cullors? DeRay Mckesson? I don’t know – their work hasn’t reached me consistently enough for me to hold them up as a leader to follow wholeheartedly. I want someone to take responsibility for the movement’s direction. Someone who holds the movement to the highest moral standard. Someone who won’t be placated by piecemeal reform but is motivated by a deeper purpose.
I’m looking to be led by something I can believe in.
A friend once told me,
Those who lead revolutions tend to be dead.
History tends to lionize individuals, but history is made through collective efforts. The Underground Railroad, not just Harriet Tubman. The Selma to Montgomery marches, not just MLK Jr. The Salt March, not just Gandhi.
History paints with broad strokes of inevitability, but any closer look can show the fractures and possibilities within. The deep divides between MLK Jr. and Malcolm X. The debates between Gandhi and Ambedkar.
Why does an individual matter? This movement already has its share of martyrs, none of whom sought to die for this cause. Yet they have and there’s no need for others to join them. Are there core ideas behind this movement that I can get behind? Leave the hero worship aside and find meaning in the ideas worth fighting for.
Is what we’re fighting for enough?
There are those that are pushing for concrete reforms to end police brutality. 8 Can’t Wait, the effort led by Campaign Zero, is a wonderfully grounded, evidence-based, and concrete set of proposals that can lead to dramatic changes in police violence. We can end qualified immunity to hold police officers responsible for their misconduct.
To what end?
There are those that are pushing for a deeper conversation on race. Pushing reading lists. An understanding of our history of racism.
To what end?
There are those that are pushing to go further. Pushing for more radical ideas to enter the mainstream discussion. Ideas like defunding the police. Disbanding the police. Reparations.
If we are trying to tackle structural issues, more ideas must be on the table.
What about a Truth and Reconciliation Commission? Stricter gun control? Ending the War on Drugs? Criminal justice reform? Once we all get through these reading lists, it’ll be hard to find the end to the reaches of racism in our society.
Police brutality is a cancerous mole on the face of society. Covering it with a Band-Aid doesn’t treat the disease deep within us.
Is what we’re fighting for right?
My daughters are mixed-race, but I don’t have to worry about them being the next Tamir Rice. The next Trayvon Martin. They look more Indian than black and they live in an area of wealth where even the idea of a militarized police presence seems far-fetched. It is precisely that privilege that allows me to ponder the movement’s larger goals.
Sybrina Fulton, the mother of Trayvon Martin, doesn’t have that luxury. Neither does Quincy Floyd, George Floyd’s son. Talk of revolution and systemic change is for the privileged. For once, this is truly a matter of black and white. No matter what the defense ends up arguing in court, there’s no moral defense for the circumstances of George Floyd’s murder. We can do something to make sure that no one else loses their life in the same way. There are lives in the balance and we have been given a chance to do something about it. Let’s remember that it’s not enough once we’ve stopped the next police murder.
How will this moment be remembered?
After a couple weeks, this anger may dissipate and momentum may slow. This may lead to some further research on police brutality. The slow grind of change continues.
Or this could be the jolt that’s needed to restructure how our justice system views and allows for the police use of force. We get some major reform around the country on the use of strangleholds, the use of de-escalation measures, and other basic steps. Our children look back at the days of police murder like we look back on the days of slavery.
Or this could be the moment that leads to a national reckoning on race. An African American woman enters the White House as Vice President with a mandate to revamp our country’s relationship to race and prosperity. The pressure continues from the people as we tackle fundamental questions of education, justice, segregation, and intergenerational wealth.
Who knows? There’s a good chance, though, that this may be one of the few moments in life each of us remembers.
How will I be remembered?
My Thatha (my grandfather) grew up during the time of India’s independence movement. He once told me a story of his time during that era.
When he was young, he was a firm Gandhian. Throughout his school years, he spun his own yarn for his clothes just as Gandhi advocated. One time, there was a peaceful protest at his school that he took part in, and the government cracked down to break up the protest. Police with batons beat him and the rest of the students. With pride, he showed me the scar on his back.
He seemed to look right through me as he went back to that moment in his life. He wistfully said,
I can never forget the face of the man who beat me.
Then, his face curled into a satisfied smile as he leaned back in his chair. One day, decades later when he had gone from a student to a man of importance in the Indian Railways, he came across that man again. That same man was part of a group he was supposed to negotiate with on a new contract. Pointing at him, but looking directly at the other two men, Thatha said,
I can never forget how that fellow beat peaceful protesters. If you want to discuss this contract, I can only talk to the two of you. He can wait outside.
Why does this story stay with me? Why does this story stay with him?
Most of our lives, we hold our moral beliefs in our back pocket like a membership card, serving as a source of pride but little more. There are rare moments in our lives where we are called to live out our moral beliefs. To not only pull out our membership card, but to sacrifice something for the sake of that membership. For the sake of claiming those morals as part of our identity. It is our actions in those moments that define us. As Author Roy T Bennett said,
Courage is feeling fear, not getting rid of fear, knowing something is more important than fear and taking action in the face of fear.
There’s deep beauty and joy in a spirit unencumbered by fear.
Children are amazing. Their innocence. Their curiosity. Their wonder. Most of all, it’s their absence of fear of judgment that allows each child’s light to shine so brightly. As they grow up, you can see this spirit dampening as they become more embedded in the culture in which they are raised. They worry about what their friends think, what is acceptable, what is cool, and slowly, they become an adult version of themselves, with a glimmer of the light they once possessed.
I can see this in my own fear of speaking up, of not saying the right thing, of being on the record saying something that is abhorrent to someone somewhere. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s a shackle on my natural spirit. It makes me cautious, anxious, and unsettled.
There’s deep beauty and joy in a spirit facing its fears.
For black people in America, for far too long, their relationship with police has deprived them of that joy. They must caution their children from a young age, telling them which toys they can and can’t play with. They must discuss how to interact with law enforcement, what they can’t say, where to put their hands…and they still carry a fear that they or their loved one may not survive an interaction with the police. How can this do anything but dim their lights?
Their fear of speaking up, of not saying the right thing, of saying something that is abhorrent to someone somewhere. It must be uncomfortable. It must be a shackle on their natural spirit. It must make them cautious, anxious, and unsettled. Yet, black people everywhere are speaking up and speaking out, showing incredible courage facing the very police presence that is the source of their fear.
Is now the right time?
It’s hard to overlook that this unrest comes at an inopportune time. We are in the midst of a global pandemic that has:
Laid bare and exacerbated the inequality in our society
Wreaked economic havoc on the poor
Created social unrest through months of government-imposed isolation
Just as we see the first positive signs, with phased re-openings in some states, we see the onset of protests. Large gatherings. People in close proximity. Everything the health experts have been cautioning against so vocally for the last few months.
Is it possible that this movement may be counterproductive? That the movement may lead to more black lives lost in the coming weeks and months as COVID-19 cases escalate within protesting communities that far too often lack the health care infrastructure and resources to treat them?
Is there a right time?
Is there ever a right time for disrupting the status quo? The only right time was yesterday. For issues of justice, tomorrow never comes unless we start today.
Let’s not ignore this pandemic. Let’s not pretend the science is with us. Let’s acknowledge the science matters while acknowledging the moment matters more. Wear a mask. Meet up outdoors, where the risk of transmission is lower. Try to organize in areas with enough space to keep some semblance of distance.
How can I make a difference?
I’m a brown guy in American suburbia. My efforts feel as hopelessly irrational as voting in an election.
How can I make a difference?
I’m a brown guy in American suburbia. I’m pushing for 8 Can’t Wait in Cary, North Carolina, my new hometown, along with its neighboring communities of Raleigh and Durham. I encourage you to do the same in the communities in which you live.
I’m reaching out to the people in my communities who are leaders and organizers on these issues to follow their lead in electing officials that can disrupt the status quo on a local level.
And I’m looking out for anyone leading us deeper and farther, to take the revolutionary steps necessary to break a system of oppression.
Black Lives Matter.