5/17/2021 Black History and Hot SummersBy Zenith Jarrett
A year ago, on February 27, Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed while on a jog. Following his death, George Floyd was choked to death while shopping; Breonna Taylor, shot while sleeping; Rayshard Brooks, shot for resisting arrest; Sean Reed, shot while unarmed. At the time, I’m writing this piece, no one has been convicted for the murder of any of these black people lynched by the law in 2020.
Last summer was long and hot. It was the second hottest summer on record, and the influx of black lives matter protests, riots, and demonstrations reflected that. Nine unarmed black people were killed by the police in 2020 — several others assailed — and people seemed to really take note of it. The day Jacob Blake was shot, there were protests across the country. Two nights after the shooting, Kyle Rittenhouse shot and killed two people. I’m not sure if he’ll be convicted of anything, but my expectations are low. Last summer was long, hot, and painful for a lot of people. Opening my phone every day to see another BLM post, browsing Instagram and seeing plea after plea for police reform, swiping through stories and seeing photage of violence with no warning, watching youtube and the news and seeing presidential candidates promising change in the midst of riots… it looked like something might happen. It looked like there was a sizable enough paradigm shift, that the Overton Window had progressed far enough, for something to be done to protect us. But police violence continues. Little substantive action has been taken. Police still have free reign to act as they please without punishment, and the next summer is going to be as hot as the last. It’s February when I’m writing this, although it won’t be published now, I would like to call some attention to Black history. When Emmett Till was murdered in 1955, it was considered a catalyst for the civil rights movement. The image of his disfigured body in a casket mobilized a generation of people into radical action. Nine years later, during the “Hot Summer of 1967” (which began in 1964) hundreds of race riots erupted around the country in response to America’s racism and police violence. Then, there was Rodney King. And Amadou Diallo. And Eric Gardner. And Michael Brown. And Freddie Gray. And Tamir Rice. And Philando Castille. And George Floyd. For the past 66-odd years, the deaths of black people have driven calls for change. There’s a trend in America of summer flare-ups. The hotter the summer, it seems, the more intense the response. The hotter the summer, the more intensely we call for change, and year after year, nothing seems to get done. I’ll admit, that’s a bit reductive. It’s February, but I’d be a fool to ignore the accomplishments of so many black people, regardless. The civil rights movement made waves. The effect of black radicalism is still felt today. I don’t mean to discount the work of 20th century activists by any means, but change is a slow and arduous process, and no one seems interested in it right now. There was little to expect while Donald Trump was in office. The possibility of a Republican government doing something to help people of color is outlandish, but it’s likely nothing will happen now. Police reform has been tried before. Choke holds are and have been illegal in many places as a result of other police murders. Attempts have been made to reform the police from the inside, regulate them from the outside, correct all of the flaws inherent in a violent system, but year after year and summer after summer, the violence continues. A year ago, on February 27, Ahmaud Arbery was lynched. In the year 2020, three black men were found hanging from trees in California without any investigation. In modern America, if one of my neighbors suspected me of a crime and wanted me dead, they could kill me. They could lynch me and destroy my body, and there is a reasonable chance that they would be acquitted of the crime. In present-day North Carolina, I could be pulled over and shot for driving without a seatbelt on, and all it would be met with is shallow platitudes and protests. Living every single day with that fear sounds a bit irrational. The statistical likelihood of racial violence happening to me is somewhat low, but it is always a possibility. I will get pulled over at some point in my life, and as long as I am in America, and as long as nothing has changed, and as long as I am black, I will be at risk of uninhibited state violence. Police reform has not accomplished anything. Progressive politicians have not accomplished much. It would appear that radical police abolition is the only plausible solution, but even then, Travis and Gregory McMichael would be fine. Even one step in the right direction doesn’t begin to bridge the gap. It’s Black History Month, so I felt it was imperative to keep tradition, and write about Blackness. As you might be able to imagine, writing about an entire racial identity is difficult. There’s music, and art, and activists, and politicians, and inventors, and scientists, and other writers, and I don’t think I could write about them all if you gave me a lifetime. But, it’s black history month, and something has to be said by me or I will have missed my chance. There is a rich history of protest in the black community. There has also been a swath of violence against black people by the United States Government and white people for all of American history. Black History Month is normally a time when I celebrate my blackness — WEB DuBois, Zora Nealle Hurston, Carter Woodson, James Baldwin, Maya Angelou, Angela Davis and so many others deserve to be celebrated, and I do find pride in our bond — but if February 27th has come and gone, then there is still a part of Black history that cannot be celebrated. There is still a mountaintop we have yet to climb. There is still a hurdle we have yet to overcome. There is still a desert we have yet to successfully traverse. This black history month, as a bit of late homework for those of you who escaped education, I want you to stop and think about the history being made every day. Think about the societal ills that befell us in the 50s. Think about the causes for riots in the 60s. Think about every black name lost to the history books, and realize that anyone I mentioned at the beginning could be forgotten, too. Change must come. Everyone must contribute. Please remember that Black Lives Matter all year round. Note from the author: I wrote this in February of 2021, thinking it was for the Winter edition of the Stentorian. It’s May, now, so not everything I say is entirely relevant at the moment. However, more black people continue to be murdered by the state day after day. Ma’Khia Bryant was murdered while defending herself, Andrew Brown was murdered in Elizabeth City, and Rayshard Brooks’s murderer was reinstated to the Atlanta Police Department. It seems that this year, not much will change from years past. But, this summer I encourage you to march, fight, and organize so that we might finally stop this cycle of police violence. Comments are closed.
|