What Happens When We’re Not Trending?

“A mob firebombed one of the Freedom Riders’ buses outside Anniston, Ala., on May 14, 1961. Bettmann Archive, via Getty Images” | Photo and description via NYTimes

The opinions reflected in this OpEd are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of staff, faculty and students of The King's College.

Have you heard of the Freedom Riders? Growing up in white-suburban, mid-America, I don’t recall learning much about them. Black and non-Black volunteer students took to the buses to fight segregation in the South; together they became known as the Freedom Riders. The most notorious image associated with this group of people is a large Greyhound bus completely engulfed in flames. On May 16, 1961, the bus pulled into Anniston, Alabama and was met with a violent mob; as a matter of fact, the Ku Klux Klan was given permission by local authorities to attack the Freedom Riders without fear of arrest. One bus was firebombed, and everyone was forced into the angry white mob. As they continued to be attacked and beaten at Birmingham terminal, the police offered no protection, but watched as the students were being brutalized. 

I’m sorry to start this op-ed on such a dreary note. I know that racism in white communities can be a pretty touchy subject, but believe it or not, the brutal death and injustice inflicted on people of color isn’t a fun topic for Black people to discuss either. 

In the past year or so, I have pondered heavily upon what it means to be an activist, the true weight of one's words, and how easy it is to throw statements around on social media. After 19 years in white, Christian spaces, something new is happening to me: white people I know are publicly stating that Black lives matter (BLM). This feels particularly odd because four to six years ago those words were demonized, and those around me associated those words with radicalism and violence. 

I was afraid to say publicly that my life mattered. 

As politics have become a more central topic in young communities, activism has become what looks to be a popular and “trendy” activity to take part in. This is generally good; people seem to care more about how their actions impact others and the environment, and there is more pressure placed on individuals to educate themselves on what is happening in the world. I am greatly encouraged by the desire of people to speak up on behalf of others, but the time we live in feels bittersweet, and I find myself skeptical of the real intentions behind people's actions. Social media, particularly, has become nothing short of a performance. I don’t say this to downplay the amazing work that using this medium can do. Instagram and Twitter can spread awareness very quickly, and they are a tool people should get used to using if they truly feel inspired. However, activism isn’t posting stuff on Instagram. 

Many people have jumped on the BLM bandwagon for clout or because they were shamed into it. Moreover, many people have gone to protests so they can simply snap a photo of themselves. This mindset feels pretty disingenuous and fails to recognize the risk that Black people face when standing up for themselves. 

There is a reason an op-ed, which should have taken me two days at most to send in, took me a month. 

Those years ago when BLM was an extremely controversial movement and I made attempts to speak up for myself and my community, it was clear to me that saying the wrong thing could put my education and career at risk. Now when I go to a protest or simply leave the house, I know that my life is at risk simply for being a Black woman—it doesn’t matter how “articulate” or “calmly” I come across. 

Equality for Black people is a fight that has endured for centuries now, and many Black people and allies of the Black community have and continue to pay a steep price for the freedoms we have gained and continue to strive for. Slavery in the U.S. was abolished 151 years ago, and the Civil Rights Act was established 56 years ago. Yet, as of 2017, Black people make up roughly 33% of the prison population despite being 12% of the US adult population. Black people are still being killed on the street in the name of justice. So much has changed in the past century, yet Black people are still chained and murdered. And, let’s not forget, it took a lot of people who are much braver than I am fighting every day until death to get the piece of freedom we have now. 

In many cases I have felt pandered to by white people in my community. It’s easy to tell who does the hard work of challenging racism every day, and who does the bare minimum to avoid consequences. While I am thankful for the education I have received at King’s, the community at large is a fan of using big words and making big statements about virtue, influence, leadership, community, etc.–something I am guilty of as well. But don’t tell me with fancy language that you want to listen, or that I am a valued member of the community—not when you actively endorse a vocal racist as a person to be emulated. Many people reject the notion that they are upholding racist ideologies, but Black lives have been stolen for centuries. At this point, your statements of love and community are empty if you don’t back it up with commitment. Actions speak much louder than words, and they tell me how my worth is truly weighed. 

I consider myself a realistic optimist, and I don’t want to ignore all the good that has come from the last few months or so of protests, petitions, discussion and donation. Eventually, the sensationalism dies, and Black lives will still be lost. This isn’t a quarantine special. When your boredom ends, and your life is back to normal, what are you going to do to challenge the racism that permeates our society? Are you going to have difficult conversations with your parents? With your friends? Will you stop joking about stereotypes? How will you vote? Will you continue to unlearn the racism you were taught, even when it becomes uncomfortable for you? When the media is no longer watching, will you still make it clear that my life matters? 

At this point, after all the death, violence, and hatred in the name of God and justice, Black people deserve more than empty words.