An American Wake-Up Call
“This is not who we are.” “#thisisnotus” “This is not America.” “#Charlottesville”
“This is not who we are.” “#thisisnotus” “This is not America.” “#Charlottesville”
These are some of many statements and sentiments I have heard on television and read on various social media platforms the past few days, and I find myself extremely conflicted by them. Why is this not us? Why is this not America? Why are we asserting it is not who we are tragedy after tragedy? If one takes even the quickest glance at the relatively short history of America, the reality of what this country is and has been for over two hundred years in regards to race is evident, and the fact that we cannot reconcile with that reality is the root of some of the country’s problems. Before some write me off as un-American or unpatriotic or even a race baiter, let me explain how this all looks through my eyes and how it relates to the events that occurred in Charlottesville this past weekend.
I am a 23-year-old African-American male that just one year ago finished my undergraduate degree in American history and art history. A year and a week ago to the day, I moved to Charlottesville, Virginia to begin working towards a Ph.D. in art history specializing in critical race theory in American art. One skype interview with the woman who would become my advisor and an acceptance letter was all it took for me to pack my bags and move three hundred miles south from Pennsylvania. I had no knowledge of the city, its culture, its people because I never visited before moving. It’s academic reputation, and the art history program was sufficed for me. However, living here for the past year has had its ups and downs. In the past year here confederate flag waving yolkels have tried to intimidate me in their trucks as a walk the streets. I’ve seen hate letters sent to Muslim students. I’ve seen swastikas written on apartment complex walls. I’ve seen the KKK walk the streets and on Saturday, August 12, 2017, I saw Nazi’s and white supremacist roam through the streets of Charlottesville. Many carrying Confederate flags, white nationalist flags, and Nazi flags contradictorily juxtaposed against American flags, combined with others giving the occasional Nazi salute. In addition, one could see many basement dwellers who like to play GI Joe dress up walk around the city carrying assault rifles. As I walked through the crowds with friends viewing the two opposing sides, seeing those bandaged from the horrific act of domestic terrorism, the multiples ambulances drive to and from the scene all masked in the smell of either pepper spray, smoke bombs or tear gas I couldn’t help but think to myself that none of this was surprising. I felt no shock, I felt no awe, and I certainly never once thought that “this is not America.”
Let me be clear there was definitely a feeling of fear on my part as well as anger and sadness because of the car incident. But aside from the domestic terror car crash which resulted in the injury of multiple people and the death of Heather Heyer I was not surprised by the events that occurred that Saturday afternoon. Why is this some may ask? Even though I have never personally experienced or have seen a mass gathering of white supremacist and Neo-Nazi’s in my young life, why couldn’t I flock to social media or tell my friends that this was not America? At the moment some were saying events similar to this have occurred in the past, but this was something different, and at the moment I agreed with them, but I did not honestly believe those sentiments. This has occurred over and over again in America since the end of the Civil War and will continue to happen. It was at this moment that I asked myself a crucial question: why are people so surprised by this and I am not? The answer now seems fairly clear.
After the election of President Barack Obama, the nations first African-American president, somehow a majority of American citizens bought into the foolish rhetoric that the United States had confronted and overcome its disgusting racial history, ushering in a new era some people called a “post-racial America.” It’s a nice sentiment indeed, however, it is the furthest thing from reality. If one speaks to most African-Americans, they will tell you the election of Barack Obama was a surreal moment that filled households, families, and communities with pride and hope for the future. I was only fourteen years old at the time of his first election, and even then the gravity of it was palpable to me; I cannot begin to imagine how my parents and grandparents like many around the country felt. However, we were not delusional about what would come next. I can only speak for my family and people that I know, but the general sentiment was that tense race relations were not resolved in America — if anything there was a potential for them to exacerbate and surely they did.
I had the honor to cast my first vote in my first election to re-elect President Obama in 2012 as did many of friends. But, towards the end of his second and final term, I found myself looking forward to his final days in office. This was not because I thought he did a poor job as president nor did I disagreed with a majority of his policies — quite the contrary. I looked forward to his final days because it pained me to see him disrespected day in and day out not because people necessarily disagreed with his ideas, but they did not agree with the man for reasons that were apparent to most minorities especially African-Americans. It was a reality most African-American’s were very aware of even before they cast their votes for him in the primaries let alone the general election. African-American’s knew the challenges he would face as president because he is black and the reason African-American’s foresaw this reality is because it is their daily reality. If asked, most black people and minority peoples in America will share stories of their encounters with overt racism, and a lot of them do not come off as a surprise when they occur — they surely do not for me anymore. And I say overt racism specifically because that in some respects is the easiest forms to deal with and are the least surprising. For me, it is only when covert racism occurs, and when others do not see it, cannot see it or choose not to acknowledge it that continues to surprise me.
Growing up mostly in Western Pennsylvania I and others minorities I know had multiple encounters with overt and covert racism. These instances came in all forms: menacing glares as we dated our white classmates, being told not to date our white classmates, racial epitaphs, the urge to pet our heads or feel our hair, being held to different standards. Also, the feeling that our people or we are taboo as white people whisper to us when black subject matter is brought up and of course a sense of surprise evoked when we were the contrary to their previously held stereotypical notion of how a minority speaks, acts, dresses or performs academically. The events in Charlottesville and the conversations I have had over the past year living here immediately reminded me of something my father told me after an incident I had in high school involving racism. He said that in his opinion every African-American would at some point in their life experience what he called their “negro wake-up call.” In a sense, it boils down to a singular moment when a black person understands the reality of their existence in America. It is a moment when they realize that at times the rules are different for them. It is a moment when they reflect on every racial incident — whether they were aware of it or not at the time — in their life. It is a moment which reveals many of the issues facing America today and that have faced America in the past center around issues of race and our inability as a country to reconcile with it. Our people and government need to address these problems not just with words, but with action. Acknowledge the institutional and systematic racism that has plagued this country since its inception. Acknowledge that issues of race are embedded not only in the DNA of our nation but also enshrined in our legal system and a lot of our policies. Only after those things are acknowledged can we move past rhetorical and reactive responses to race in America. It is time to be proactive in anyway possible and not wait around for another incident to occur. I love all my friends and family members of all hues, and it touched my heart how concerned they were for my well being on Saturday. My heart goes out to the citizens of Charlottesville and all of those injured in the multiple acts of terrorism especially Heather Heyer who lost her life doing what she loved, fighting against injustice, hatred, and bigotry.
Obviously, everyone cannot have their “negro wake-up call,” but instead for those who found themselves surprised by any of the events that occurred last Saturday need to have an American wake-up call. An American wake-up call that allows one to understand the truths about America and the reality of its racial past and present. I say this not because I am unpatriotic, or un-American or a race baiter, but instead I say this because I love this country, its people, and its ideals and I believe it is time we start living up to them.
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” -James Baldwin