Riots, Curfews, and Anti-Blackness. Edifying in the Face of Hate
I had a lot of trouble focusing on writing my weekly blog post this week. What was originally going to be a post on the metaphor of the hair scrunchie for resilience, quickly became sidetracked by the invasion of thoughts following George Floyd’s death and the subsequent protests.
I’ve taken a lot of time to write this post to look at all the facts and be mindful of every perspective. This is meant in no way to capitalize on a traumatic moment for the Floyd Family and our nation for personal gain, instead I hope to spread words of hope and advice on how to cope.
Any and all donations received from this post will be donated to bail relief funds and GoFundMe efforts to support black businesses
It was about a week ago when I first heard the news of what happened to George Floyd. My great-aunt had come to visit and give me a haircut. Over margaritas and lunch, my family sat around the table to do some surface-level discussion of current events (as per the norm). My great-aunt (I call her Nina) said:
“Did you hear about what happened to that man in Minnesota? It’s a shame what our police do!”
The night before, I consoled my partner after she had a fight with her parents about the same subject. One of her parents defended the actions of the police and would not listen to any arguments presented otherwise.
Watching the video of what happened and everything spurring from that horrific loss of life has left me and many of my loved ones emotionally bankrupt. Which left me asking myself:
DPLM: How do we move beyond surviving times like this? Can minority communities thrive instead of being forced to survive? Can do non-minorities help? If so, how?
Before I begin, I want to say that when I started The Resilience Journal, I wrote this with the full intention of escaping my political science background and focusing on providing information on emotional literacy only. However, with issues such as this, you cannot divorce emotional growth from the politics of the moment.
George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery. They are individuals that have died far before their time and act as a modern martyr for the fight toward racial inequality.
The need for modern martyrs is a sign that our society has not progressed enough from the past. We should not and must not rely on a person’s sacrifice to gain representation and recognition in society. Their deaths hurt us all.
The impact of these effects are nowhere near spread equally across every racial and socioeconomic group, however we all know these names now. How well you know these names and their impact on their/your community shows how much of a difference their death makes to you.
One of the most dangerous parts of the fallout following Floyd, Taylor, and Arbery’s death is the rise in riots across over 140 cities in the nation. I have personally been affected by a 6:00 PM curfew in San Bernardino County. I have seen the police react to rioting at local malls. While we may all disagree on the purpose and necessity of the riots, one thing is clear: these violent outbursts would be much smaller if we listened to peaceful protests in the first place. Peaceful demonstrations, while ideal, are too easy to ignore. When society ignores peaceful cries for change, our nation has shown time and time again that we will resort to violence.
Which brings me to one of my critical answers to my own question. How do we move beyond these trying times? How do we aid the ability to thrive instead of survival?
We listen.
Listen to the cries of the oppressed and underrepresented. The politics of recognition demand that all parties have a seat at the table to prevent any further recurrences of violence. If we want a change, a genuine enduring change, we must aid the underrepresented in any way possible until the moment we have reformed the system.
This does not stop with black people. This includes every single ethnic minority and extends beyond that to minorities we forget to consider: sexual, religious, socioeconomic, and cultural.
I’d like to end this post with two quotes, both by men important to the development of my understanding of the world.
John Rawls: The fairest rules are those to which everyone would agree if they did not know how much power they would have.
Donte Collins: To be queer & black is to walk out of the closet into a casket
Continued strength,
DPLM