When an individual is protesting society's refusal to
acknowledge his dignity as a human being, his very act of protest confers
dignity on him
Bayard
RuskinDR. CLANTON C.W DAWSON, JR.
In the wake of ‘no indictment’ by grand juries in Missouri and New York for the white officers who killed Michael Brown and Eric Garner, protest demonstrations have occurred in over 170 cities throughout the United States. On Friday December 6, a group of protesters gathered at the State Capitol in Jefferson City, Mo to protest the bogus judicial process orchestrated by Prosecuting Attorney Bob McCulloch and the ineffective leadership of Missouri Governor Jay Nixon. Since then numerous protests have occurred in California, New York, Cleveland, and Miami and in cities throughout the United States. Even NBA figures like LeBron James and Kobe Bryant have joined the chorus of protest.
A local
preacher asked me, “Why should we in Mid-Missouri be so concerned about what happened
in Ferguson, MO--and by extension--New York City, Cleveland, OH, etc.?” “After all,”
he stated, “we have our own problems in Columbia, Jefferson City, Boonville,
Springfield, Fulton, Marshall, and Sedalia and throughout central Missouri. We
should be more concerned about home than there!”
After
pondering the question seriously, it is apparent to me that this brother has
either forgotten or is unaware of the phenomenological power of protest. While
thousands of people of every race and creed have united to physically stage protests
as a call for justice, sadly this preacher is not alone in his sentiment. Too
many preachers/pastors have chosen to remain silent about the obvious disparity
in the manner in which police engage African Americans and the subsequent lack
of judicial credulity afforded Black and Brown Americans. They refuse to raise
their prophetic voice to challenge how African Americans are harassed, followed
in stores and markets, mistreated, denied due process, and die suspiciously in
the back seat of police cars (remember North Carolina?). The treatment of Anglo
Americans receive from both the police and the courts is qualitatively
different from the treatment people of color experience. We are called as
clergy to stand. The passivity articulated by my brother preacher, and
demonstrated by too many silent pulpits in America, positions clergy, Black and
white, on the wrong side of history.
Protest is
rooted in lament: it is the expression of objection to systems and states of
affairs that rob human beings of their dignity and humanity. As such, protest
arrests the consciousness of a society and makes us look squarely at the
injustice brought before us. Its phenomenological quality has the unique ability to make us ‘sense’ the
outrage and desperation of the victims of injustice. It is this ‘sensing’ that
we are witnessing with protesters across the country—Black, Anglo, Latin, male,
female, gay, straight--who directly or indirectly are victims of racial
injustice. They have joined the fight because they understand the question (why
did this happen?) and have been captured by the phenomenological power of
protest. All of us, particularly young Americans, realize that what happened in
Ferguson, Cleveland, and New York can happen anywhere in America.
Protests
transforms a person from being a disinterested observer to active participant. The
protests make us look at ourselves and the situation. No one can ‘remain’ removed
from the situation. Socrates was right when he stated that ‘to know the good is
to do it.’ The massive protests that have taken place in over 170 cities across
America evidence the fact that when rational people see injustice, and realize
it is wrong, they must do something about it. They protest.
The protests
have changed the conversations of Americans in every coffeehouse, hair salon,
corner store, basketball game in this country. People of different racial
groups and ages have been awakened: no longer are people standing by quietly.
There is a movement before us. It is larger than Michael Brown or Eric Garner.
It is a movement that recognizes that injustice anywhere is injustice
everywhere.
Bayard
Ruskin was correct. Protests bestows dignity upon those who have experienced
the robbery of dignity. The phenomenon of protest changes the conversation from
one of political practicality to moral insistence. Even the racists of Rosebud,
MO who greeted NAACP protest marchers with fried chicken, 40 ounce bottles of
beer, melons, and racial slurs realize that the moral universe is holding all
of us responsible for our actions. The world they want no longer exists. The
protest exposes who and what they are, and illuminates our moral character as
well. An old saying from my era still rings true—“you are either part of the
problem, or part of the solution”---there is no middle ground.
Protest
reminds us that every life is important. Black lives do matter. The fact
remains that too many young (and older!) African American males are being
targeted as “the enemy” in this country. The xenophobia operative in too many
police departments across this country must be challenged. There exists a marked
difference between how the police and judicial processes treat people of color in
this society and how Anglo Americans are treated. It is not Black paranoia, it
is a lived reality. It is painfully clear that the way justice is exercised in
this country pronounces that Black lives are irrelevant—they neither are worthy
of moral consideration; nor, are people of color full citizens under the
Constitution of the United States of America. Ferguson, and now New York, call
our attention to the duplicitous nature of ‘equal justice under the law.’
Protest, however, declares that all citizens are due their day in court.
Michael Brown and Eric Garner were robbed of due process. Every citizen ought
to have access to ‘equal justice under the Law.” Protest spotlights that what
we claim as a nation is not what is experienced by too many Americans.
I believe in
the phenomenological power of protest. The Biblical prophets, social and
political philosophers and thinkers of every era, and my ancestors believed in
its power. Protest renews my hope for change. Protest reminds me that if I work
the work before me, “… trouble won’t last always…!” As a Christian, African
American, and fellow human being who understands that I am my brother’s and
sister’s keeper—I must protest injustice. For all who protest injustice stand
on the Lord’s side. God stands on the side of justice. I am convinced that at
the eschaton, and the Universe will cry out9o, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” I
want to stand with men and women of every nation, from every historical epoch,
and declare without reservation, “Here I am Lord, here I am!”