It’s time for some uncomfortable conversations and confrontations to be had.
The election of Donald Trump provoked a long overdue reaction and resistance against the injustices that have defined America since its conception. The charade of colourblindness maintained by the majority finally was gone. Yet, President Trump remains in office, unscathed. His administration is always falling apart, surrounding institutions are constantly checking his pursuits to pass hateful policies to keep his followers happy, his words remain flamboyantly hateful, and he continues to successfully shun taking responsibility for his many wrongdoings. Not to mention the disastrous consequences that thousands of innocent people have had to face, including the inhumane ripping apart of families into internment camps and women losing control over decisions regarding their own bodies. It is tragic how many of us have found ourselves losing hope at some point over the past three years.
I wanted to take time to remember when this status quo was disrupted on March 24th from 12 to 3 PM in front of the nation’s capital. A group of high school students who were survivors of a mass shooting that took seventeen lives and wounded seventeen others on February 14th from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, organised the nationwide gun control rally called March For Our Lives. It was one of the biggest youth-led protests in the history of America. I would like to discuss this seemingly forgotten demonstration that occurred a year ago and its important takeaways that are relevant now more than ever.
At first look, Emma González, Alfonso Calderon, Jacyln Corin, David Hogg, Cameron Kasky, and Alex Wind, all appeared to be affluent white children fighting to save the lives of people who look like them. Throughout the entire march, however, the stage confirmed it to be representing a myriad of young people from many walks of American life. Minorities from every setting told their stories. There were black kids from inner-city Chicago, Latino kids from Los Angeles, to those from suburbs. There was a clear echo of black lives, concerns and policy goals along with the agendas of people from a spectrum of backgrounds. All of this sewn beautifully into three hours. No march as prominent as this one has ever stuck to its allotted time.
In the words of politics editor of The Root, Jason Johnson, it was “one of the most organised, intersectional, disciplined and integrated protest marches” he’d ever seen.
Some of the most memorable moments of the march include Naomi Wadler, a 11-year-old black girl from suburban D.C. who cited Courtlin Arrington, Hadiya Pendleton, and Taiyania Thompson.
She declared, “I am here today to acknowledge the African-American girls who don’t make the front page of every national newspaper, whose stories don’t lead on the evening news. I represent the African-American women who are victims of gun violence, who are simply statistics instead of vibrant beautiful girls full of potential.”
Another such moment was Dr. King’s 9-year-old granddaughter, Yolanda Renee King, speaking to the crowd, “My grandfather had a dream that his four little children would not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream that enough is enough. And that this should be a gun-free world. Period.” She then led the chant “Spread the word, have you heard? All across the nation. We are going to be a great generation.” This was not far from where her grandfather had given a similar speech during a historical demonstration. Then, there was Common and Andra Day’s moving performance of Stand Up For Something, the lead single from the 2017 film Marshall.
Up until the march, the face of the gun control movement were white upper-middle class folks. To those who were a part of the march, this violence can be more recognisably seen as having a spectrum of victims. A world of privilege often separating their experiences. Jaclyn Corin, a survivor of the attack, was a powerful girl who highlighted this.
“We recognise that Parkland received more attention because of its affluence, but we share this stage today and forever with those communities who have always stared down the barrel of a gun.”
This is not at all to say that this was enough. This is not even just about gun violence. It never was. This is about organisation and resistance against white supremacy. We just scratched the surface, finally! Demonstrations become historical when they have served three purposes — collaborating, educating, and inciting a deep desire to instigate change. It is from this point onwards that social justice warriors must become revolutionaries. The spiraling capability of American politicians, a media that is paying attention, mixed with angry youth of every colour full of potential who are tired of watching their peers die or live in fear, means the real nonviolent struggle is yet to begin.
We must now unpack where the march failed. These failures, while recognised by the organisers, are perhaps what contributed to its success. First, the march very much failed to address police violence in any of its official goals. However, on March 28th, four days after the march, black students from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School organised a press conference to discuss how the increased police presence on their campus since the shooting has left them feeling more in danger. While watching their press conference, it brought to mind organiser David Hogg’s statements during a rally before the big march in Washington. He was vehement that the media’s biggest mistake was “not giving black students a voice.” During the press conference, the students seemed careful in not undermining the efforts of their white classmates in any way. Their emphasis was that they felt their concerns were not being heard with the same fervor. And they still have not been.
Are we right in believing the call of the hour is one of solidarity? It is my hope that white students will pave the way for their peers of colour to finally lead the movement from the front lines. That they will insist on black students being heard instead of once again leaving them to fend for themselves in a country that has been designed to silence them. Many a time, when such a big show of power is completed, those who have partaken feel some sense of satisfaction. This is no luxury a crusader for justice should partake in. Our dark-skinned and poorer siblings have no option. Yes, we should all celebrate the intersectional display. What a celebration it will be when so many more across this country are given microphones and the chance to be heard! The children of America have shown us that many are on their side and that the tides could be turning.
People across the country are out on the streets every day fighting for the basic human rights of immigrants, refugees and women to be restored. But, a tsunami requires a whole lot more than one big wave to clean out the landscape for us to start afresh. For that, we require a series of important and uncomfortable conversations and confrontations to be had. We must be focused on inciting strong feelings but important realisations from deep connections and understanding. White and privileged people must make an active choice to escape from the partisan binaries such as “conservative” and “liberal” or “pro-life” and “pro-choice”. Such black-and-white depictions were created to inhibit dialogue about important issues that allow systems of oppressions and ignorance to persist. For people of colour, on the other hand, there is no better time than now for us to begin our jobs. Those of us who aren’t already sweating out here, that is.
In my own experience, my heart has broken many times when my siblings of colour who love to preach and act “woke” do not answer when action calls. This lack of initiative and apathy is racism too. There is a need for change among young people of colour who seem to be, just as our master intended, distracted by material life and recognition. We must let go of all the master’s tools, most especially pride and a sense of separation. We must find each other and lead a disciplined, collaborative, and intersectional resistance. Our goal being to disrupt and dismantle the very institutions that never actually stopped keeping us enslaved and in fear. The brutalisation and estrangement of families that has gone on for far too long in far too many forms must finally come to an end. We must find each other across institutions and geographical lines.
It is only through our compassion towards those who have otherised us that we can break generational patterns of hate. Let us branch out to our siblings across the country and world to work together to build a better future.
Ella Baker, a leading force behind the black rights movement, said that “strong people don’t need strong leaders.” As the American national election season approaches, this focus on individual strength and commitment towards the collective and its goals is one we need to harness in ourselves and sow into the fabric of the struggle against white supremacy. To all my fellow siblings in America and across the world — we can choose to be lulled away by the illusions of individualism and the material world that it offers us to buy our complacency.
We can choose to give in to the fear white supremacy has created around us resisting it. Or we can cease to give power to the false categories of “us” and “them” and instead listen to each other as different parts of a shared life force.
Through this, we will rehumanise ourselves and remember that to slight one person is to slight all life in the process. If not, we will be only damning our children to a similar fate. That is something I could not live with. I hope that you feel the same.
