Last week, as we watched the presidential inauguration, we were reminded of the power of resilience. The audacity to have a celebration within the very venue that was a place of insurrection and trauma only two weeks before is an accomplishment that only stubborn optimism, exceptional planning, and grace from Providence could have brought to fruition.
As I watched, I felt a sense of joy about the hope and possibility that this transition of power symbolized. However, I must admit that it took a while for me to relish what lay before me. After all, the many pronounced challenges of 2020 are still a part of our reality, and the sad events of January 6th were a strong reminder that the turn of a calendar is no magic antidote for change. So, as I initially beheld the inauguration ceremony, I braced myself for some hiccup or tragedy to ruin the happiness and grandeur of the moment. As the day went on, I began to relax, and as we all know, the festivities celebrating our peaceful transition of presidential power went according to plan.
The success of the inauguration reminded me that it is ok to begin expecting “the good” while living in the realities of the “not so good.” Dear Reader, may I remind you that “the good” is coming?
Of all the lessons that 2020 taught us, one of the most important is to savor (i.e. intentionally and continuously appreciate) what is good. Sometimes, the only way to do this is by first tasting a little or a lot of life’s bitterness.
Think about this in terms of last Wednesday’s activities. Didn’t seeing current and former elected leaders and their families embrace one another take on a significance that it has never had before? Didn’t the last 10 months of restrictions regarding physical touch and human interaction make something as simple as a hug feel like a treasured component of the human experience? Is this not a privilege that we overlooked through the lens of our pre-Covid lives?
What about the time during the motorcade parade in which the President and Vice President got out of their armed, chauffeured vehicles and walked the streets of Washington D.C. with their families? After the siege of the Capitol earlier this month, who knew that the streets of Washington would — or could — be safe enough for the first and second families to confidently stroll? Also, was it not a joy to behold their bespoken sartorial choices after a year in which pajamas and “sweats” have been the protagonists of most of our Covid-wardrobe narratives?
What of National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman’s instruction that “Justice is not what Just is”? Did that not ring a special chord of truth as we still fight the centuries long battle for racial justice in our country?
Think of President Biden being sworn in at age 78 — after two previous unsuccessful bids for the presidency, the death of his first wife, and the death of two children. What audacity after such tragedy!
And what of the historic nature of Vice President Kamala Harris’ ascent to the Vice Presidency? Does this not give hope to those of us who have been told that leadership is beyond our grasp?
The list goes on and on, but you get the point. Life always has its problems and challenges, but the struggles help us to appreciate the good that we have and to hope, expect, prepare, and enjoy the good that is on the way.
Dear Reader — Good is coming, and good is here. Enjoy it. Savor it. Have no fear!
In The Politics of Collective Violence, historian and sociologist, Charles Tilly explains that the word riot is infused with political meaning. He states that the term riot “embodies a political judgment.” According to Tilly, when power-holders and those who are contingent to power-holders (i.e. those who are at the front of the line in receiving benefits from power-holders) disapprove of violence by those outside of their power structure, they label these demonstrations as riots.
Even when instances of violence are justified, those in power often describe the violence as riotous in order to delegitimize those outside of their group. Once power-holders employ this rhetoric, the assemblies in question are assessed as subhuman and destructive, which further solidifies the strength of those who control the inner-workings of social and political power.
A Historical Example of a Misrepresented Gathering: Millican, TX 1867-1868
In late summer of 1867, the town of Millican, Texas fell victim to a large outbreak of yellow fever that was raging through the state. George E. Brooks, the minister of a black Methodist Episcopal Church and registrar of voters for Brazos County, set aside politics, race, and grievances to treat sick and dying victims of yellow fever as the majority of the town attempted to distance themselves from those with the viral disease.
Brooks’ acts were a remarkable display of courage and humanity. He not only cared for black citizens of Millican; he took care of white citizens, the majority of whom undoubtedly detested the fact the he served as county registrar. Indeed, Brooks received some minimal appreciation for his indiscriminate care of the sick and dying. The gratitude of whites, however, only went so far. Just short of a year later, Brooks’ body was found decomposing in the hot sun on the banks of the Brazos River. His flesh had been removed in strips and his face disfigured beyond recognition. He was identified only because one of his remaining hands showed a missing finger from an earlier injury.
The Event that Led to the Eventual Murder of George Brooks
In the summer of 1868, race relations in Millican proved particularly strained. Blacks were shown definitively that their skin color nullified any possible reconciliation that Brooks’ actions as a caregiver may have initiated. In July, members of the Ku Klux Klan attempted to intimidate Brooks and his congregation by firing shots at them. To the shock and dismay of the KKK members, the congregants defended themselves by returning fire. The congregants’ response was so effective that the clansmen rode away quickly, and in their haste left their robes, masks, and pistols on the ground in front of the church meeting place.
The congregation did not rest on their laurels. Rev. Books organized and trained a black militia to defend the black community of Millican from future attacks. Whites knew of the militia because they trained every Saturday in full view of both black and white citizenry. As expected, the white citizens were unhappy about the black militia’s existence and even more dissatisfied with their practice of consistently drilling.
Most assuredly, the trouble that the militia prepared for came their way. What became known as the Millican Riot began with a rumor. A leader among the freed persons of Millican went missing, and it was said that he had been lynched because he sought to collect a debt owed to him by a white man. The truth was that the leader had simply gone to neighboring Washington County.
However, because Brooks was unsure about what happened to the man, he sent the captain of his militia with a detachment of men to find the body in order to confirm the lynching. While on their search, the militia came around a bend in the road. There, they came face to face with the mayor of Millican, as well as the deputy sheriff and a white posse who had come to ensure the militia did not take retribution against the supposed instigator of the lynching, i.e the white man who owed the debt to the missing freedman.
As is often the case when white Southerners described their conflicts with blacks at the time, the white posse claimed that violence began because blacks initiated it. The whites claimed that they were in the process of successfully brokering peace with Brooks’ captain until “a small negro” in the back discharged his weapon. They responded by firing upon the militia, which resulted in the killing of fifteen to twenty freedmen including the captain with whom they were supposedly brokering peace.
Undoubtedly, this is not what actually happened. Rather, it is the fantasy of whites from the past and the present to obscure the fact that the white posse had no intention of negotiating. Instead, more than likely, Brooks’ men were shot down before a word could even be spoken. And Brooks was subsequently murdered.
In the flurry of news reports that followed in the days following, whites sufficiently exercised rhetorical power ensuring that what was in fact a racist massacre designed to terrorize the black citizenry and punish black leaders was labeled a “riot.” From Galveston to New York, newspapers participated in the active delegitimization of Brooks, his militia, and the black citizens of Millican. Despite the inaccuracy of the published stories about this event, mainstream readers believed what they read, and they capitalized on the word “riot.”
The story of what truly happened in Millican was replaced with a sensationalized tale about the supposed irrational and undisciplined actions of blacks that threatened the safety of rational, law-abiding whites. As is often the case when describing the actions taken by non-white actors against whites in power, “riot” was the name that was used at the time of the event and subsequently canonized by the historical record. To this day, the event is most often referred to as the “Millican Riot” rather than the “Millican Massacre,” the preferred term of historians who have studied the event.
Connections to the Present
Of course, the politicization of the word riot is not restrained to that particular subset of American society. To this very day, the ethics that we citizens of the United States profess and those that we practice are in sharp contrast and possess a violent juxtaposition. Images of violence pervade our lives, but they are not evaluated with parity or consistency. Recently, in a scene reminiscent of our country’s troubled racial past, white men dressed in camo fatigues and armed with assault weapons crowded the state capitol of Michigan in order to assert themselves and intimidate those around them. They were not military troops acting at the will of the state. Instead, they were a group protesting their state government’s lockdown policies regarding Covid-19.
In evaluating the protests of these men, it is appropriate to assess them in tandem with those of other assemblies who gather to make their grievances known, namely those who currently protest the inexcusable and deliberate killing of George Floyd. They can hardly be considered an armed force in comparison to those who occupied the Michigan Capitol. But when these people march – with or without violence — to air their grievances with those who hold power, they are met with impenetrable tear gas, clubs, and other tools of state-sponsored violence. Their demonstrations are described as meaningless, destructive, and an overreaction.
The occupiers of the Michigan Capitol appealed to history by using aesthetic symbols of rebellion and revolution such as “Don’t Tread on Me” signs and Confederate Battle flags to legitimize their angst. And generally, mainstream society has not rebuffed these individuals for their protests.
However, those who currently protest the death of George Floyd by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin are criticized. Their legitimate protests – whether violent or non-violent – are characterized as riots. There are those among them who have resorted to looting and violence, but the majority of them have not done so. Their demonstrations against the generations of systemic oppression in both conspicuous and inconspicuous forms against African-Americans by police departments across the country are often considered illegitimate. They have been confronted by the National Guard.
It could be said that the National Guard are a necessary presence because the Minneapolis police have lost credibility within their city. Nevertheless, by calling upon the National Guard, the governor of Minnesota is sending an unequivocal message that those who protest the death of George Floyd and the systemic issues that caused his death are somehow a threat to be monitored and controlled by the state with force.
The Moral of the Story
Our guiding ethic that “all are created equal” and that we are one nation indivisible is a noble ethic that we conveniently abandon to our collective peril. Our professed ethics are meaningless and will remain so unless our nation realizes that there is a disconnection between the ethic we profess and the ethic we perform. Those in power must use the power of law and order to protect the rights and dignity of all people instead of using it as an arm of protection for some and an entity of persecution for others.
Those who cry “Justice!” in the streets must no longer be met with state-sanctioned violence, and white Americans should join non-violent protestors in burning down the façade of righteousness behind which systemic evil too often is enforced. Officer Derek Chauvin’s decision to end George Floyd’s life brutally reminded us that America is a nation of laws – not a nation of justice. Our guiding ethic should rest in the later instead of the former.
NBC recently quenched suspense regarding whether they would show coverage of players who kneeled during the National Anthem at the Super Bowl. They said they would.
Super Bowl executive producer, Fred Gaudelli, explained NBC’s rationale to the Television Critics Association’s winter press tour. Gaudelli stated: “The Super Bowl is a live event … and when you’re covering a live event, you’re covering what’s happening. So if there are players that choose to kneel, they will be shown live.” In other words, Gaudelli argues that showing players who kneel is not an endorsement of those players’ political opinions; instead, showing kneeling players is providing full coverage to Super Bowl viewers of a live event.
Background: How This All Began
The “kneel or not to kneel” debate began during the 2016 NFL season when former San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick began kneeling during the National Anthem to protest racial inequality. When Kaepernick began protesting, he explained: “I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color.” Kaepernick made his statement as a response to the outcry from minority communities about the recent deaths of black men and women due to what was perceived as police brutality. Do you remember Alton Sterling? Philando Castile? Sandra Bland? These are just a few examples of unarmed African Americans who died during interactions with police or while in police care over the last three years.
Eventually, Kaepernick opted out of his contract with the 49ers after being told by the team that his contract would not be upheld in its existing form after 2016. The team’s decision not to allow Kaepernick to operate under the existing contract originated from Kaepernick’s need to play less after an injury in 2015. After his injury, his position as starting quarterback became tenuous. During the 2016 season, Kaepernick’s questionable playing ability after his injury and his protest of the National Anthem culminated into a situation that made the 49ers leadership see him as less than an ideal candidate for their leading position. General Manager John Lynch stated the following: “We [the team leadership and Kaepernick] had a great meeting, and I think we had a very frank and honest discussion, and what we both agreed [to] was that under the current construct of the situation… it wasn’t going to work.” Colin Kaepernick has not played football since the 2016 season. No team has signed or recruited him. Kaepernick is currently suing the NFL because he believes that the league’s owners made an agreement among themselves not to hire him.
Kneeling as a National Movement and a National Debate
Although Kaepernick has been ostracized from the NFL, his form of protest has been subsequently imitated by many of his former teammates and by other players throughout the NFL. There are those, particularly the President of the United States, who find the protest of the players unpatriotic and offensive. This post won’t quote the detractors verbatim because they have been challenging the protest for over a year, which means their rebuffs are well-documented.
Essentially, critics argue that the unwillingness of players to stand during the National Anthem is an overt sign of disrespect to American values and to those who fight and have fought for American freedom. Some even argue that Kaepernick is hypocritical for taking a public political stance after not voting in the last presidential election. GQ magazine’s pronouncement of Kaepernick as “Citizen of the Year” for its December issue made critics of Kaepernick and his fellow protesters even more strident. NBC’s subsequent decision to show those who may protest during the Super Bowl will unquestionably fuel the debate. Despite the controversy, one must not look at the recent NFL protests as historical anomalies. Instead, they are best understood within the context of American history. When seen in this light, Kaepernick and others who kneel are obviously more than agitators or provocateurs. They are citizens who are using their public platform and their right to free speech to bring about what they believe is necessary moral change.
Protests of the Past
If we think about it, our country was founded upon the idea of protests and it continues to become “a more perfect union” because of them. Consider the following:
Wasn’t the Boston Tea Party of 1773 a protest of what the colonists perceived as unjust British taxation policies? Didn’t the whole American Revolution occur because the colonists believed that their rights as British citizens were being compromised? Remember that the American Revolution became a moment of separation of the colonies from the English government because the colonists believed—either justly of unjustly—that the English government dismissed the rights granted to them by the English constitution.
Kaepernick has not said that he is rescinding his citizenship. However, he is making the argument that the constitutional rights of people of color are not consistently protected.
Consider the women who marched for suffrage on March 3,1913, the day before Woodrow Wilson was inaugurated as President. These women were Progressive reformers who argued that precluding women from the vote kept them from fully engaging in citizenship.
Have you heard of the Bonus March of 1932? It was a movement when World War I veterans marched to ensure the government provided appropriate compensation and benefits for those who served during WWI.
Have we forgotten that thousands of Vietnam War Veterans protested the Vietnam War after serving in the War?
Finally, remember that Martin Luther King’s venerated “I have a Dream Speech” was delivered during a protest. The March on Washington occurred on August 28, 1963, at the height of the Civil Rights Movement. The Civil Rights Movement began as a series of protests against segregation and Jim Crow laws of the South.
If one correctly views Kaepernick and others’ recent protest with the right historical eye, he or she is able to see that today’s protest of the National Anthem fit within the long history of political and social discourse within our nation.
Those who kneel are not isolated from the larger historical context of American challenges to government. They are not unpatriotic or un American.
It is characteristically American and unquestionably patriotic to use one’s position to challenge the perceived wrongs that are perpetuated by those who are in power. NFL players are using their public profiles to speak for those whom they believe society has forgotten. They have done this with the display of a gentleman’s knee.
Today’s protestors are not political or social outliers. They are as American as apple pie.
 Jason Lynch,” NBC Will Cover Any National Anthem Protests During the Super Bowl : Kneeling players‘will be shown live.”Adweek. January 10, 2018.
 Steve Wyche, “Colin Kaepernick explains why he sat during the National Anthem” August 27-28. http://www.nfl.com/news/story/0ap3000000691077/article/colin-kaepernick-explains-why-he-sat-during-national-anthem