This coming
Wednesday, July 13, will mark the third anniversary of the founding of the
international activist movement known as Black Lives Matter. Most of us probably became familiar with
this movement just shy of two years ago, when the shooting death of Michael
Brown in Ferguson, Missouri gave rise to civil unrest that spread to other
locations where other black men were killed.
Rather quickly, the movement became identified by its twitter hashtag,
#blacklivesmatter, which became the slogan of the groups protesting violence
against the black community.
Importantly, though, #blacklivesmatter is not merely protesting police
involved shootings of black men and women.
They are protesting an entire system that is unjustly biased against the
black community. They are agitating for
change.
Over the
course of the last two years, I have seen many “counter” protests to
#blacklivesmatter as a movement and, in particular, as a slogan. The most popular of these is to
transform the slogan into the more benign and inclusive #alllivesmatter. Well-meaning people have repeatedly asked me
why it is necessary to emphasize that it is black
lives that matter, as opposed to all lives.
Other well-meaning people have suggested that the intent of
#blacklivesmatter is to communicate that black lives matter more than other lives – say, those of
police and other law enforcement officers.
From
reflection on the issue and from conversations with friends, I have come to
believe two things to be true.
1. #alllivesmatter is a copout, a way of ignoring the pressing issue of systemic and institutionalized injustice.
1. #alllivesmatter is a copout, a way of ignoring the pressing issue of systemic and institutionalized injustice.
2. We need slogans like #blacklivesmatter.
Let me
explain.
#Blacklivesmatter,
as a slogan, is not a statement about the superiority of one life over
another. Every person I have ever known
who is involved with the Black Lives Matter movement would easily and completely
affirm that no one life matters more than another. With their slogan, they are not attempting to
stir up violence against law enforcement, against white people, or against any
other race. Rather, their slogan is
intended to force us who live in the white majority to ask ourselves some
difficult questions.
When we say
or write #alllivesmatter in response to the killing of Alton Sterling and
Philando Castile or in response to the unthinkable murders of five law
enforcement officers in Dallas this week, we are affirming a core truth. All lives do
matter. Black lives, white lives, male
lives, female lives, gay lives, straight lives, law enforcement lives, even
criminal lives – they all matter. It is unquestionably
a good thing to affirm that we believe that all lives matter.
When we make
that affirmation, though, #blacklivesmatter is there with a question: “Do they really?”
What I see and hear when I read #blacklivesmatter is a challenging
question – are black lives really
included when I say that I believe that all lives matter? That’s a question we all need to hear,
because too often we resort to #alllivesmatter as a way of distracting and
distancing ourselves from the very real problem of systemic injustice in
America.
Of course,
most of us in the white majority are quick to respond to the question presented
by #blacklivesmatter with an indignant insistence that OF COURSE black lives
really matter. We feel insulted and
perhaps even personally attacked by the insinuation that we are racist or
prejudiced, that we value one life over another.
To which #blacklivesmatter
replies with another question – do our actions match our words? Do the things we do affirm that black lives are included when we say that all lives
matter, or is it just words that we say to make ourselves feel good? And to be clear, it’s not really about what I
do in my day to day life, though that matters. It’s about what I do to combat and change
systemic injustice. Do I exercise my
vote in line with my insistence that all lives matter? Do I spend my money in line with my
insistence that all lives matter? Do I
insist that my legislators and my government stop offering only “thoughts and prayers” and instead begin to work to change the broken and unjust systems?!
These are
uncomfortable questions for anyone who, like me, is a part of the white
majority in our country; for anyone who, like me, benefits in ways that I do
not choose, but have not opposed, from the very real thing called white
privilege; for anyone, who like me, who struggles to find a way to respond both
to the injustice of the Philando Castile and Alton Sterling deaths and to the
senseless murders in Dallas. This discomfort that #blacklivesmatter makes us feel is, I suspect, why so many of
us respond viscerally against the
slogan. It is also why we desperately
need to see it and hear it and read it again and again. Without that discomfort, nothing will change.
Of course, there are other slogans we need, other hashtags that ask pressing and uncomfortable question of us. We need them too.
If we are angrier (or feel a deeper sadness) today at the deaths of five police officers than we were yesterday at the deaths of two black men in police custody, we need to hear the message that #blacklivesmatter.
Of course, there are other slogans we need, other hashtags that ask pressing and uncomfortable question of us. We need them too.
If we are angrier (or feel a deeper sadness) today at the deaths of five police officers than we were yesterday at the deaths of two black men in police custody, we need to hear the message that #blacklivesmatter.
If, on the other hand, we are angrier about the two black men who were killed in police custody than about the five officers who were murdered in Dallas, perhaps we need to hear the message that #policelivesmatter.
If we, collectively, care more deeply about the 7 lives in the news the last two or three days than the 200+ lives that were lost in Iraq this week, perhaps we need to hear the message that #iraqilivesmatter.
If our fear of attack and wariness of the other drive us to demonize women and
children who are seeking safety in our midst, perhaps the message we need to
hear is that #refugeelivesmatter.
If our
opposition – however justified it may be - to a way of life means that we feel
differently about the Orlando night club massacre than about other attacks,
perhaps we should heed the questions raised by #gayandlesbianlivesmatter.
It is true
that all lives matter, and we should never stop affirming our belief in that
truth that is fundamental to our human identity and to our American
identity. It is also true that, once we
strip away the rhetoric, we have systems in place that do not affirm that truth; we have systems in place that say that some
lives matter more than others. And until
we – all of us – get angry enough at
the injustice that we demand (with actions more than words) that it stop, we
will continue to hear from our black brothers and sisters the questions posed
by #blacklivesmatter.
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