Love
Lessons in joining the fight for justice.
Dele Ogunrinola (pictured)
It’s a terrifying time to be Black in America.
The United States has erupted in a show of collective resistance to the tragic and unjust murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery among many others perpetrated by the police. Black people all across America are forced to take a front row seat in not only witnessing, but experiencing the reality of a hyper-militarized, overfunded, and systematically tiered effort by police in maintaining structural racism and white supremacy--in primetime. The complacent and privileged are confronting their cognitive dissonance by joining the rest of the nation in asking the real question: Just how many more “bad apples” must we bite into before we discover we were growing and nourishing an orchard the whole time?
Answering such a fundamental question forces us to interrogate the very notion and history of police action. Dr. Victor E. Kappeler, Dean of the College of Justice and Safety at Eastern Kentucky University evidenced that “[t]he institution of slavery and the control of minorities, however, were two of the more formidable historic features of American society shaping early policing. Slave patrols and Night Watches, which later became modern police departments, were both designed to control, manipulate, and destabilize the behaviors of minority groups.” With the digital age, it is not hard to see that the specific and targeted persecutions of Black bodies in the United States by the police are not isolated incidents, but rather the calculable pattern of an inherently prejudiced system that was built on the exploitation and subjugation of Black People. Consequently, the movement Black Lives Matter has gained traction in its goal of ending race-based violence towards the Black community, and restoring the human rights claimed by empty promises, dead bodies, and hashtags.
Just how many more “bad apples” must we bite into before we discover we were growing and nourishing an orchard the whole time?
Recognizing Black Lives Matter as a movement means understanding whose lives are endangered by police action daily, and whose are not. The reality is that we, as multi-faceted humans, do not just bring parts of our identity into our spaces. The combination of our different identities makes us who we are. Kimberlé Crenshaw, professor of Law at UCLA and Columbia Law School coined the term Intersectionality as a way to describe how race, class, gender, sexuality, and other such characteristics of identity merge, “intersecting” with multiple oppressions that reinforce each, creating new measures of oppression. Those intersections create conditions that cause disproportionate negative consequences, most of which are felt by the trans, Black woman. “Unerased: Counting Transgender Lives” a project in 2016 estimated that, while the overall murder rate for the U.S. was 1 in 19,000 per year, the murder rate for Black trans women was 1 in 2,600, more than seven times as high as that of the general population. The Violence Policy Center in 2017 also reported “No group under the LGBTQ umbrella faces more violence than Black, transgender people, who accounted for 67% of the hate-related homicides against queer people in 2015, according to the NCAVP.”
Those dedicated to freedom of any kind must recognize the inherent systems of oppression in place that disproportionately target the most vulnerable parts of the community. The Combahee River Collective built these observations into their analysis of Liberation through an Anti-Racist Framework, “If Black women were free, it would mean that everyone else would have to be free since our freedom would necessitate the destruction of all of the systems of oppression.” In truth, the authors implore that to successfully destroy systems of oppression, it is necessary to attack the intersections of those systems and how they work together to target the most vulnerable group. For example, it would be like hosting an event with inclusive food needs: if one is able to feed the most restricted dietary needs, then one is able to feed everyone. The call to action is simple: undoing racism built into an institution that results in things such as police brutality and misconduct necessitates an Intersectional and Anti-Racist approach that centers on the Black, trans woman and works to liberate her.
Those dedicated to freedom of any kind must recognize the inherent systems of oppression in place that disproportionately target the most vulnerable parts of the community.
Living as a Black, male, immigrant in the cultural and ethnic capital that is Boise, Idaho, I found myself explaining the very oppression I face regularly, time and time again to white folks who enjoyed the privilege of finally “opting in” to the conversation. The time to unpack the racism that America has so neatly tucked into their schools, textbooks, language, and institutions is now. A greater conversation of systemic racism is at hand, and I am not telling white America to listen--I’m demanding it. I demand it for Breonna. I demand it for Ahmaud. I demand it for George. I demand it for the thousands of folks we did NOT see on camera. Mine, and the lives of many of the fellow Black folks you know and love depends on it. Black Lives Mattering is the bare minimum. Black Lives are cherished. Black Lives are necessary. ■
Dele Ogunrinola is a 22 year old Black Activist who’s been organizing since he was in high school. As a future medical professional, Dele understands the need and significance of liberation through love. He finishes up his undergraduate degree in Biochemistry and Physics this year and looks to teach abroad for a year before heading to medical school. In his spare time, Dele enjoys reading, writing, and dismantling systems of oppression.
Visit Black Lives Matter Boise on Facebook to donate, take action, and stay informed on how best to support the movement.