Every Time a Statue Falls, Our Story Changes
A writer’s take on the role of symbolism in the protests of 2020 vs. the protests of 2017
In August 2017, I pulled red socks up over my knees and put on a shirt reading “turn your back on hate.” My children, their father and I then headed into the city of Atlanta to march in protest of white supremacy. At that time, the motivation for our actions was the murder of activist Heather Heyer during the now infamous white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia.
The day we marched, followers of the Anonymous movement joined us in Guy Fawkes masks and distributed flyers revealing the personal addresses of modern day fascists. Meanwhile, members of Antifa, faces covered by their then signature bandanas, led the crowd to the base of a monument in Atlanta’s Piedmont Park.
As the crowd started throwing chains on the monument in an attempt to pull it down, I separated myself and my children from the masses. I was charting a safe path out of what I knew could, at any moment, erupt into violence.
However, even more than knowing this, I felt the explosive potential of the tension between the protestors and the police. Then, two things changed the scene.
