The Second line funeral march is an African American tradition most associated with New Orleans, it has in its roots a deep and unmistakable connection to African funeral tradition. In America the 2nd line was a way to mark the passage of Black life and demand recognition of our basic humanity. In the 2nd line the tears are mixed with joyous songs and expressions of Black kinship. In the 2nd line it was traditional to carry a decorated umbrella symbolic of protecting one from a storm as a shield, but also as an expression of beauty facing the heavens, shining in the rain. It is also traditional to carry a handkerchief for our tears but also as a flag of defiance and a part of our dance.
“The 2nd line can be seen as just a parade but it is a deeply powerful and solemn expression of homecoming and love. This invitation is offered in that spirit. Come mourn, come weep and wail, come to love, come to share and build power, come to witness, come to sing.”
Alton Sterling was a 37-year old black man killed by police in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Philando Castile was a 32-year old black man killed by a police officer during a routine traffic stop in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. Castile’s girlfriend and her 4-year old daughter were in the car.
The march ended on the water at India Point Park, where there were performances, remembrances and a final act of throwing flowers into the water.
Below find photos and video of the event. Much of the video was recorded by RI Future contributor Andrew Stewart.
]]>At a meeting to plan a Rhode Island response to the killing of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, the moderator, a black man, made the point that many in his community feel these deaths – of people they don’t know who live far away – as personally and intensely as they feel the death of a cousin or a friend.
“White people,” he said, “don’t understand that.”
This is true. None of us truly understands the day to day prejudice experienced by people of color in our country absent actually experiencing it. This solidarity of experience escapes most, if not all white people in this country. The bond created across time and distance by systemic oppression is intense, and personal.
I can feel some of this. When Trayvon Martin was murdered, he was about my son’s age. They both wore hoodies and both liked Mountain Dew and Skittles. I felt Trayvon Martin’s death acutely, but my reaction was blunted by my privilege. I didn’t then and don’t now fear for my son’s life the way parents of black children do. My son is white. I have the luxury of keeping my parental fear levels at the lowest setting.
“A part of us died last night,” said Providence Public Safety Commissioner Stephen Paré at a press conference Friday afternoon, “when five colleagues in Dallas, were shot and killed.”
Paré can acutely feel the deaths of police officers far away. He sees the police officers killed in Dallas as colleagues, and can certainly imagine the nightmare of losing five officers in Providence.
But the analogy ends there.
When police officers were murdered in Dallas, Governor Gina Raimondo called a press conference of police and community leaders well within 24 hours. Two United States senators offered words of calm and condolence. Flags were ordered to fly at half mast by government order.
No press conferences were planned for Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. It took the death of police officers to do that. That alone signals our priorities as a culture.
Police can call for back up. They can get the National Guard and the full power of the United States military flown in if necessary. Police can attach bombs to robots and kill by remote control if necessary.
The unlimited force and power of the United States can be brought to bear against those who kill police officers, but when it comes to the extra-judicial murders of people of color by police…
… there is no back-up.
Here’s the full video from the press conference:
]]>1. Learn the issue.
This is an emotional issue all around. But don’t be that guy who says “cooperate with cops and it’ll be fine,” or “for every suspect killed by police, there’s a police officer killed in the line of duty.” I saw that comment recently, and: NO, wrong! Check on which jobs in the USA are the most deadly, and police officer isn’t even in the top ten. (This is why “Blue Lives Matter” is nonsense.)
Check what the evidence shows, on MappingPoliceViolence.org and more: implicit bias leads police to kill black Americans disproportionately, and they’re only charged with a crime 3 percent of the time. (This disproportionality is why “Black Lives Matter” makes more sense than “All Lives Matter.”)
2. Learn allyship.
This one is mainly for my fellow white people! “Privilege” and “ally” are suddenly trendy buzzwords that I have mixed feelings about. There is a ton to read online, but here’s a handy reminder from Kayla Reed on twitter:
A- Always center the impacted
L- Listen & learn from those who live in the oppression
L- Leverage your privilege
Y- Yield the floor
One little way to Leverage white privilege is to speak up about race to fellow white people, like I’m doing with this blog post.
3. Join SURJ / White Noise Collective.
In addition to your conversations, learn how can white privilege be leveraged collectively. The people of Showing Up For Racial Justice have ideas! The SURJ chapter here in RI is coordinated by the White Noise Collective. Sign up to stay posted on local opportunities for involvement, and maybe I’ll see you at the next demonstration.
4. Join DARE
No, not D.A.R.E. that educates kids about drugs. Rhode Island is the proud home of DARE as in Direct Action for Rights & Equality, which includes a committee on policing and incarceration. If you’re an Eastsider like me, going to DARE might feel a bit odd, but do it anyway. DARE has a track record of real victories for RI social justice.
5. Back the Community Safety Act
First, consider this list of 15 Things Your City Can Do to End Police Brutality. It looks great, but even harder to accomplish than the average “Things You Can Do to Burn Fat” online list. The good news for Rhode Islanders is the pending Community Safety Act for Providence. DARE is part of the coalition promoting this bill. Learn about it so that you can mention it to your City Councilor when you see each other. Speaking of which: do you know who your elected officials are? (Level two: do your elected officials know who you are?) Electoral and legislative work has its limits, but it is absolutely worth paying attention to.
Some people want to be on campaigns and in hearings; some people want to be marching in the streets; both have their place and support each other. You can do some of each, or just find your lane and stay in it. There are lots of ways to do something. Don’t do nothing.
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