NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE: what we mean, and why we mean it.
jus·tice /ˈjəstəs/
noun
- just behavior or treatment.
a. the quality of being fair and reasonable.
b. the administration of the law or authority in maintaining this.
“There really can be no peace without justice. There can be no justice without truth. And there can be no truth, unless someone rises up to tell you the truth.”
- Louis Farrakhan
Black people around the world have had to beg for civility since the early 1500s; and, for the most part, our pleas go in vain. As our awareness increases and Black people take more action against the injustice that has consumed our realities, things only seem to get worse. In more ways than a few, today’s America is grossly similar to the one leaders like Medgar Evers and Lamar Smith died trying to change. And that brings us to the point: one cannot expect peace in an environment where justice does not exist.
Sit-ins. Marches. The Montgomery bus boycott. The BLM movement. Botham Jean’s graceful family. From the early ‘50s to as recently as a few weeks ago, there are a number of examples that depict just how peaceful Black Americans have been in their fight for justice. The problem does not lie in the Black community’s inability to remain peaceful. Rather, it lies within the fact that no act of kindness, no exhibition of forgiveness, and no representation of assimilation has proven enough to protect Black people from fear, guilt, or hatred. The Black community has already employed every gentle approach possible in its fight for civil rights… Nothing has worked.
So why are some of you so surprised now that (some) Black people are hanging up their Nice Guy hats?
Just behavior can only be the norm in an environment where justice is maintained. If the very people who are trained and paid to enforce such justice in this country aren’t actually obligated to do so, then please spare Black people of your high expectations. The idea that Black people should display unwavering resilience in the face of those we have never received it from, is rooted in privilege. Period. From Africa to America, docility and peaceful protesting have led to the onslaught of our leaders, the explosions of our cities and churches, and the slow-but-steady dilution of Black unity on both national and global scales. Nobody needs to tell Black Americans that they aren’t accomplishing anything or working to disprove stereotypes by lashing out. At this point, Black people already know that even our best efforts have little to no results; our cries fall on deaf ears; and our deaths take place before desensitized and unbothered eyes. These are truths that we have no choice but to accept in today’s society. These are painful truths that cut deep, and Black people are more than wounded; we are angry and overwhelmed and many of us feel helpless. In a country where our representation and our realities are controlled by external parties, Black people are made to feel powerless. And that is what this revolt is about.
It’s about doing whatever we can, however we can, to feel like we are doing something to make a difference. It’s about trying to take ownership of the power within us — the power that the entire world aims to squander. It’s about trying to heal the wounds that have consumed our hearts and minds, as individuals and as a community. To the privileged, it’s unlawful and senseless. For many Black Americans, this is therapy.
Spoiler alert: When a population has endured more than four centuries of mental and physical abuse, the things its people may find therapeutic or necessary may not make sense to others. Violence in sought of justice might not seem necessary to people who don’t have to fight for their rights.
Stop telling Black people how to feel. Stop telling Black people how to respond to anti-Black crimes. Stop telling Black people how to handle Black culture. Stop telling Black people how to resolve exclusively Black issues, period. And, finally: don’t expect peace from those to whom you will not give it. (Or, at the very least, don’t feign surprise when the Black community refuses to submit to your privilege-based hypocrisy.)
As of May 25th, 2020, Black people have run out of cheeks to turn. We are putting out feet on necks, and we will not let up until we ALL are able to breathe comfortably.
No more Kumbaya.
