“America seems filled with violent people who like causing people pain but hate when those people tell them that pain hurts.” — Kiese Laymon
Last week a person I respect told me they felt the Black Lives Matter movement went too far. In the moment I asked them to clarify what they meant. Their answer was a variant of a refrain so often heard from well-meaning liberal white folks who wish (mostly) Indigenous and Black people would just get “past it”. As though genocide, slavery, and their offspring — mass incarceration, police brutality, inequality in economic opportunity, in housing, in health outcomes — are distant memories. A traumatic moment in time now buried in history books. An anachronism.
In fact, the dominant narrative has done much to prime us to comfortably perpetuate a caste system, as brilliantly outlined by Isabel Wilkerson in her book by the same name, and by Ava duVernay in her documentary 13th. The oppression simply morphed to suit the times.
White Americans may no longer be sending family members postcards of lynchings they attended, as they did up until 1908 when the U.S. Postal Service finally banned the mailings. Black folks may now be allowed to access public pools and secure mortgages but residents of the Bronx who rebuilt their own neighbourhood in the 70s can show you what a city policy of “benign neglect” adds up to in the streets. Folks who live in Ferguson today know all about targeted traffic stops that lead to multiple tickets, to those tickets when left unpaid turning into jail time and more costly penalties — all to shore up the city’s budget.
We know that to move beyond shameful episodes, history has to be met head on and discussed. Germany has shown us that remembrance prompts dialogue, and that dialogue sustains vigilance. So, instead of “getting past,” let’s have honest, difficult conversations. Those start with greater understanding: less apathy, more curiosity. With white folks seeking out stories of lived experiences and challenging ourselves to recognize — and fight — the cloaking of racism.
In our work at Seven25 we often co-create with communities so we can collectively solve problems in new and more nuanced ways. Our role is to support convenings, to listen, to surface stories that help us better understand the realities of each other’s lives. How else can we learn, grow, change, together?
So I’ve taken to gathering stories. Here are a few that moved me, provoked me, and opened new perspectives. Shout out to the independent Lit.Bar bookstore in the Bronx where you can buy these.
The Street, Ann Petry
A woman’s struggle to care for her son and find a way forward for herself in 1940s Harlem.
Kindred, Octavia Butler
A jarring tale of a violent past and uncertain present colliding.
The Stars Beneath Our Feet, David Barclay Moore
A coming of age story about making choices to move beyond constraints.
Heavy, Kiese Laymon
A young man’s journey to finding himself and learning how to write “to and for his people”.
Thick, Tressie McMillan Cottom
A collection of first person essays from an acclaimed contemporary thinker.
How We Fight for Our Lives, Saeed Jones
A tale of Black & queer identity and belonging.
