I went to the Trayvon Martin rally and march in downtown Los Angeles yesterday. Its been a while since I last participated in a march, and I missed the energy that is connected to a community of people taking a stand in the name of justice.
When I returned home, I couldn't shake the high that I was feeling; and I didn't want to. This was something more to me than just being upset about the situation (which is by far an understatement). This was different from simply posting an article on Facebook, or a note on Twitter in response to that anger. No, this was different.
This was different because I actually got up and did something.
Now, this is not to say that the use of technology isn't important to spreading the word about a cause. Quite the contrary. Technology has played a major part in not only making information assessable, but in being able to connect people from all over the world, unifying them under a single issue. Technology and social media both play a major part in showing the truth of what is happening in the face of biased media networks and other hidden agendas. Thus I do not wish to present an argument that is against social media; what I wish to do is to express is the importance of coming together for something like a march, and the lasting statement that our presence makes.
Even though it is true that I make a statement by what I put on my Facebook page, or on my Twitter account, or even on this blog; the fact of the matter is that those statements can only go so far. There is that slight sense of being disconnected that somehow prevents me from being fully committed to a status or tweet. Now, as a writer, this is saying a lot: to admit that there is some feelings of disconnection in association to my writing. But please note that I do not mean it in that I am not truthful or do not stand behind my words. I am simply saying that I experienced a deeper conviction and commitment as I walked with others from the community on behalf of Trayvon. And I believe that conviction is deeply theological.
I have yet to read a variety of books on theology, but I am confident that the form of bodily presence that I speak of when I speak of marching has theological implications. I say this for two reasons: 1. the statement that our bodily presence makes when we come together to march, and 2. the way that our non-violence resistance rejects not only the form of oppression, but its methods.
1. There is just something about being present. Whether it is a requirement for school, or marriage, or a friendship, or a job; our presence is important. Thus when I say that our bodily presence makes a statement, I am saying that it speaks in ways that our words cannot. Think about the marches and sit-in's of the Civil Rights movement. Their presence in those diners or walking down those streets sent a message that words could not touch. You may be able to disregard my letters (no matter how eloquent they are) but you cannot ignore my body; sitting in your diner or walking down your streets. You may try to ignore my words, but you will not ignore me.
This is also evident in the bible. Let us reflect on John 1, "In the beginning was the Word...The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." The Word (Jesus) became flesh. This is not speaking against the weight of God's Word, but there is something significant about the taking on of a bodily presence to make a statement. God did not simply speak, He came. Even if we managed to ignore His words, we couldn't not ignore Him.
2. The use of non violent resistance is extremely important in the stance against injustice. The use of non violent resistance has deeper implications than I thought before this particular march. The fact that this march was so peaceful really resonated with me (not that I expected anything else, nevertheless, it is always nice). Despite the fact of others opinions of an "eye for an eye" response, marching has a way of taking a stance against more than just the action. Marching for Trayvon isn't only about taking a stance against the fact that he was killed. Its taking a stance against the way he was killed. Marching (using non-violence as an act of resistance) doesn't simply speak against the action but it speaks against violence itself. It says, "we will not react in the way that you have. we will be better."
I am sure there is much more that could be said about this, and I hope to be able to develop this more. I just wanted to get some initial thoughts down in hopes to spark some conversation. My hope is that we grasp a better understanding on what it means to be present. To take the time to do more than send a tweet. We live in an age where our lives can become completely outside of ourselves. We can date online, go to school online, even go to church online (that's a whole different story). Thus, we are in danger of being assessable yet not being present.
I encourage us to reflect on what we mean when we post, or tweet, or blog. Hopefully we will be willing to show up when necessary. Lest our absence begin to speak louder than our words...
very well said and thought-provoking. Thanks Tamisha. You've given me something to chew on
ReplyDelete"Marching for Trayvon isn't only about taking a stance against the fact that he was killed. Its taking a stance against the way he was killed"
ReplyDeleteSo were you protesting Trayvon’s obviously racially motivated attack on George Zimmerman (whom he called a "creepy a** cracker"), how he assaulted and attempted to murder George Zimmerman (when Trayvon could’ve just as easily gone back to his house at least four times in the period between when the 911 call ended and Trayvon started the fight)? Were you also protesting that George Zimmerman’s Latino heritage has been consistently ignored and minimized (this story saw the invention of “White Hispanic”), how the media has doctored evidence (MSNBC’s edit of the 911 call) to trample on the civil rights of George Zimmerman? Were you also protesting the racially motivated assumption that because anyone other than a black individual was involved in a fight with a black individual, racism must be a factor?
Race baiters will continue to insert themselves into these cases, ignoring others that are inconvenient to their narrative, just to keep their bully pulpit rather than working towards true reconciliation.
Dear Anonymous,
DeleteThank you for your note.
I can tell by your response that this is a very heated and emotional time for you, as it is for everyone who has seen the trial, verdict and reaction of communities. While I understand these emotions, I must address some of the points that you make here.
First off, you say a lot about the implications of race as it relates to this issue. That is not necessarily something I want to touch on here, but I want to bring to your attention that that is not the meaning of this post. This post is not directly related to the recent events of this case, as you can see it was written over a year ago (closer to the time of the actual murder and not the trial). This post deals with what it means to be present and to stand for something as well as the use of presence in a highly digital world. Yes, these thoughts are sparked by a response to Trayvon's murder but the details of this tragedy are not the focus per se.
I can see you quoted some of what I say but then you immediately raised racial implications. That was not the point. The point made here was that by marching, we were taking a stand against the way he was murdered in relation to the violent way that the event went down and not necessarily the implications of race. Now I can see how in light of the media and recent conversations, some of the examples I use and relate to in this post (ie, Civil Rights movement)or even the fact that I am an African-American woman writing on this topic could cause you to draw those conclusions. But the fact of the matter is that this post is not a topic concerning race, and the fact that you bring this up angrily in your response only shows you to be the accuser of the very thing that you are accusing. Moreover, the fact that you remain anonymous reinforces the problem I think we have in not being present behind our words that we speak, thereby causing us to lose a sense of presence when it really matters.
My concern (not anger, though it would turn to anger if there is violence, when it happened in Los Angeles and Crown Heights riots) on this issue is directed at certain individuals and organizations who choose to stoke the fires of racial hatred rather than take a look inward, or to truly work towards reconciliation rather than use an tragedy to keep themselves relevant. To address your point:
DeleteI can appreciate that you do not want to bring race (until you pointed it out I did not realize your ethnicity) into the discussion, but unfortunately race cannot be separated from your illustration (a point I believe you conceded). However, the question remains: would the march have taken place and would you have participated in it if George Zimmerman had been the victim of what was clearly racially motivated violence instigated by Trayvon? I understand you are addressing the importance of being present in a digital world, but what we are present for matters as much (if not more) than simply being present. When we look at what we are standing for or who we are standing with, details really do matter.
Unfortunately, the issue of race cannot be separated from the initial events of February 2012, and what has taken place since then. In spite of a thorough investigation by the F.B.I. no evidence was found that George Zimmerman had any racial motivations for what transpired that night and as the evidence and testimony became known, it was in fact Trayvon who was using racial slurs. It wasn’t until this evidence came to light that any kind of statement was made concerning “leaving race out of it” by people who had stood silently by while George Zimmerman’s Latino heritage was ignored and painted a picture that if an act of violence involved a white (even if in this case they were Hispanic) and a black individual, then the white person’s actions were racially motivated. What happened was tragic, but part of my point was that the indignation of certain individuals and groups is painfully absent in racially motivated case that don’t fit their narrative.
To point out the wrongness of the race baiting that has taken place in this case doesn’t make me a race baiter and to accuse me of it is as ludicrous as implying that I supported the Holocaust because I think it was evil. Does the assumption that I was angry (which you stated more than once), imply that you are in fact the one who is angry here? Such accusations don’t contribute to the discussion of these issues, nor do making assumptions about why my post was anonymous (the real reason is I have no accounts on the sites listed in the drop down nemu).