Being black in America has always been a tricky proposition. If you acquiesce to authority you are a sellout, if you “fight the man” you are angry and ungrateful. I have resisted writing too often about symbolism and protest because generally it crescendos in the ears of those who support a cause or falls flat on those who are unwilling to listen.
I live in Philadelphia and watched and listened with anticipation for the playing of the National Anthem at last night’s pseudo kickoff to the 2017 NFL season. The TV cameras scanned the crowd showing the obligatory shots of ‘old glory’ flapping in the summer evening wind. One figure stood out for his solitary protest, Malcolm Jenkins. His fist raised, staring defiantly. Unlike, the unfairly maligned, Colin Kaepernick who allowed his protest story to be told by others and, thereby, losing the narrative, Jenkins has allowed America into his thinking.
"Last season, I raised my fist as a sign of solidarity to support people, especially people of color, who were and are still unjustly losing their lives at the hands of officers with little to no consequence. After spending time with police officers on ride-a-longs, meeting with politicians on the state and federal level and grass roots organizations fighting for human rights, it's clear that our criminal justice system is still crippling communities of color through mass incarceration," Jenkins said in a statement (via ESPN).
One of the things America seems to only acknowledge when it is convenient is that the struggles of black men, black women and black children in this country do not stop for your favorite music concert or a sporting event. Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Kaepernick realize their platform is the arena in which they perform. They both have accepted the obligation to stand and fight where they have the most effect. Despite the protestations of others to keep “politics’ out, they have either knelt or raised a fist to help carry the burden of thousands of young men who look for an empathetic strong back to help bear the load.
Inevitably, calls for peace among the races utters its shrill cry when someone breaks the solitude of phony post-racialism.
Peace is the ultimate product of death; Justice is the ultimate product of equality.
In life, peace can only be achieved through equality and the measures needed to achieve that peace may be uncomfortable for some but necessary for others.
Colin Kaepernick chose not to throw a brick through a window, burn a business to the ground or angrily curse an oppressor he simply put a knee to the same ground that once enslaved his ancestors. For that, he has been told to cut his hair, compared to Tawana Brawley or had his mixed race heritage challenged. The real tragedy is that these criticisms have been levied by other black men [Michael Vick, Jason Whitlock, and Rodney Harrison]. As a black man and a product of the sixties, I guess I expect some sympathy of experience that does not exist any longer.
I sported a six-inch afro in the 70’s, had trouble saluting the flag without crying following the events of April 4, 1968, and my Mom is of mixed race. I protested the Vietnam war and Apartheid. I had relatives who were unable to vote for most of their lives but I loved America and I wanted her to love me back. Neither Malcolm Jenkins nor Colin Kaepernick has ever said they hate America but it sure seems parts of America are hating them for living its freedoms.
Vote in 18’ for Change.