|My Children & I at Sunday's Rally|
Around the time my generation of Xennials graduated from high school, the twin towers fell, and our adult lives took root in a time of war. We learned through direct experience that employment and benefits are not guaranteed for any of us by virtue of skill, social status, determination or education. It feels like this has meant clinging more tightly to how we self-identify apart from our professional titles. At best, this means taking time to explore our individual authentic selves and to flourish in creative endeavors unique to us. At worst, this means clinging so tightly to cultural identifiers—like race and religion—that we become a violent force stopping at literally nothing to exert the power of our identity at the absolute expense of all others.
|My Rally Cry|
Donald Trump's presidency is a symptom.
Police brutality is a symptom.
The recent violence within Virginia is a symptom.
In particular, the death and injuries left in the wake of a white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, represent both the prevalence of racism and of the propensity to de-humanize anyone who holds a different world view. Specifically, I'm talking here about the white domestic terrorist's ability to de-humanize the people he deliberately struck with his vehicle when he drove into a crowd of people who disagreed with his assertions of white supremacy and radical nationalism.
Meanwhile, I also recognize that white supremacists, radical nationalists and neo-Nazis of all stripes can make the claim that they too are being dehumanized by Antifa and others who explicitly condemn their actions. To this I say, white supremacists are not being de-humanized when they are being held accountable. Accountability can look many different ways. Personally, I disagree with those who say accountability is eye-for-an-eye condemnation. However, I also disagree with those who say accountability looks like prayerful peace. And, if I have come down squarely on one side or another, I'll stand with the Antifa crowd before I'll stand against it.
|My Husband & Daughter|
Accountability can be as simple as signing petitions and labeling white supremacists as domestic terrorists when you speak about their actions. It can also be as complicated as dismantling and re-assembling the very systems at the bedrock of society which have allowed covert forms of extremist ideology to become the status quo. One of these systems is the prison-industrial complex. Connected to that, is the war on drugs. Revolution in these areas will do a lot to end racial profiling, modern day slavery and the stereotypes which accompany these practices now. Another system in need of changing is that which allows politicians to buy their power and to bow without consequence to industries, like oil, which threaten the survival of our species by ravaging our land.
Linked to these systems needing change are abstract concepts connecting the mind, body and spirit of society as a whole. Specifically, our view toward religion, science, art, philosophy, education, gender, race, relationships, work, money, neurological divergence (including mental illness), drugs, morality, healthcare, technology, capitalism, heritage and identity itself are due for an upgrade, so to speak. We use these ideas to create stories which communicate the shared values and goals of our culture, and many of the current stories have devolved (or are presently devolving) into dogma, which harms all of us by enforcing stigma rather than honoring our inherent humanity and all its unknowns.
Contributing directly to dismantling destructive human systems while shifting cultural norms to reflect and contextualize this restructuring is a goal of my personal activism. I write and teach to educate, introduce new ideas and spark discussion bringing about actual change. Sometimes, I also boycott, sign petitions, make calls and march. Sometimes I do this alone. Other times, I include my children. To a degree, I feel their long-term well-being relies on exposing them to current social issues, showing them firsthand the circumstances their generation will have to collaborate with my generation to change. I also want them to see that, when something happens to directly counter my personal morality and threaten what it means to exist within a country I do love despite its glaring faults, I take direct action to voice my dissent and to draw awareness to the need for change—even if imperfectly.
|Talking to the Press, Outside Piedmont Park|
After much consideration, I feel the value of vandalizing that specific monument was to show that the peace and progress brought about by the end of the Civil War has been an illusion. In this case, the chains and red paint symbolize the pain, bloodshed and institutionalized prison-based slavery which continues in the present day and will no longer be complacently accepted. This is an important message, to be certain. It also symbolizes the willingness of the Antifa and its supporters to fight, if necessary, for the freedom of all groups oppressed by a society which continues to normalize extreme prejudice. Perhaps these metaphors could have been better expressed via some radical performance art or via the creation of an entirely new structure giving voice directly to our contemporary concerns. However, those projects may be better realized somewhere along the horizon. Change has to start somewhere, and I feel the positive impact of what we asserted on Sunday in Atlanta exceeds the negative. I'm honored to have been there.
As the future unfolds with more supremacist rallies and counter protests to come, I know I will attend some anti-fascist demonstrations and sit out others. However, I'm undeniably struck by the importance of art to the rising revolution. What we all create and boldly share has value now. Thank you for reading my stories. In the video below, my daughter and I speak.