Briefly, I wanted to comment on
the religious aspects of the Blueprints
to Freedom play, for there were constant, conflictual, connected attempts
to contain, define, and garner control of religion and the influence it held.
Throughout the play and the historical moment it mirrored, we see religion
being used as the double-edged sword throughout activism and politics.
Constantly, Christians battled each other for meaning, for glimpses of God, and
for interpretive rights. When Martin Luther King Jr. comes to Rustin at his
headquarters, King uses this opportunity to tell Bayard about his religious
experiences in the Montgomery jail. King tells Bayard about his experience with
God, demonstrating his faith and his religious hold over the movement and
Bayard’s position. Bayard stood there distraught. He had lost God, or contrarily,
God had deserted him. In eighth grade, God had come to him in a bathroom, when
he was questioning, when he was at his most vulnerable, but Bayard did not
answer. In that moment and for the rest of his life, Bayard had lost some
religious right, some aspect that would continue to hold him down throughout
his years of activism and his religious life. Bayard was forced to be Joshua to
King’s Moses. Moreover, throughout the play, similar religious complications
played out. For instance, Randolph constantly lorded over Bayard as a mentor
and a religious elder – continuing to deny him his role, his humanity, and his
place. Randolph dictated what he
wanted and Bayard’s only response was to comply. Bayard’s religious failings,
in part due to his sexuality, his Godlessness, and his assistant’s atheism, are
pitted against him throughout the play, denying him control and influence.
Everywhere he turns, he loses due to his lack, due to his lost God. Finally, Bayard
faces the harshest punishment: he loses his love; he loses his dream of Gandhian
civil disobedience in the United States enacted on behalf of racial justice;
and he loses his sense of self and autonomy. As a final act, he gives up his
entire self: he gives himself to God; however, this dream, this promise could
only be illusory in light of the entire play preceding it.
This is a blog which will explore the varied facets of the African American Activist Tradition.
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
Monday, February 6, 2017
Chance the Rapper and the art of Activism
Back in June of 2016, Chance the Rapper took part in a
discussion at the University of Chicago entitled “the Art of Activism.” The hour-long talk ranged across a number of
topics including family, Chance’s relationship with the music industry, and
religion, but ultimately, it centered around the intersection between art and
activism, specifically, the relationship that rap and hip-hop artists maintain
with activist traditions. I’ve pulled a
couple of clips from the talk that I felt were particularly relevant to our class
discussions in the last few weeks. The
first clip centers around a concept that Chance references over and over during
his talk, that of the “free artist,” and in the second, Chance breaks down the
tension that exists between different schools of activist thought, a concept he
sums up as the choice between “the mouth and the fist.”
Use of the phrase “free artist,” was interesting to me for two
reasons. First, Chance is careful to
place himself in the long lineage of black musicians who have fought to
maintain control of their artistic license, a decades-long fight for agency that
ties in closely with the activist traditions we are looking at. Secondly, I immediately related Chance’s term
“free artist” to the idea raised in class last Thursday, “What does freedom
mean?” For Chance and other musicians
who follow a similar vein of thought, freedom means control of one’s artistic
process and product. For others artists,
freedom means the opportunity to chase a record deal, regardless of the
circumstances. I’m fascinated with how this
dynamic parallels the dynamic found between the different schools of thought
within black activism around the turn of the century (Integration vs.
Washington’s economic focus, etc.)
Chance’s statement, that “there’s a lot of thought that goes
into deciding…whether to be a mouth or a fist,” is really a great summation of
the tension within 19th century black activism between physical and
intellectual resistance. I noticed this
tension most clearly while reading David Walker and the Nat Turner confession a
few weeks back. When I watched Chance’s talk,
I immediately drew parallels between David Walker as “the mouth” and Nat Turner
as “the fist.” I can acknowledge that
this is somewhat of a limiting comparison, but I’m struck by how relevant
Chance’s phrase felt in relation to the tensions that we have explored in class
discussions.
I’d encourage you to watch the whole clip if you’ve got some
free time!
Sunday, February 5, 2017
13th: Visually Reexamining The U.S.’s Prison System
The
13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution abolished slavery “except as
a punishment for crime whereof the party should have been duly convicted,”
automatically including a loophole for abuse.[1]
13th, the documentary created
by Ava DuVernay in 2016, argues that today’s use of mass incarceration,
starting with the Nixon Administration in the 1970’s, continuing into the
Regan-Era, and even into 2017’s political climate is an extension of the same obsession with control that fueled the institutions of slavery and convict leasing. The preoccupation with control that we have been discussing in class applies today. The documentary argues that slavery might have been abolished but the
institution morphed into the modern prison system that we know in 2017.
This
documentary’s deep exploration of Jim Crow era laws and their progression into
the current political scene honestly shocked me because I had remained largely
uneducated about the American prison system until recently. The documentary dissects
the reasons for mass incarceration and spills the beans on the American
Legislative Exchange Council’s (ALEC) involvement in the economic industry of private
prisons in the United States - specifically its connection with laws that keep people in prisons for extended terms. Their profits are secure because more people are remaining incarcerated for longer - despite their crimes.
I had heard about private prison’s corruption before
watching this documentary, but I had no conception of the vast web of
connections between politicians, laws enacted as part of the U.S.’s crusade on
crime, and private prison companies. The brand that ex-cons receive in American
society after they are released from prison echoes the social stigma of people of color in the 19th century. Rather than being able to serve
time for a “wrong,” they are forever marked by their crimes. Despite supposedly "doing their time," the United States' laws continue to punish ex-cons for crimes far in their pasts - it’s extremely difficult to get a job after
serving a term in prison, and every job application requires that you disclose your criminal history. It’s a grand ploy to disenfranchise and control the
population of people who have been incarcerated – a population overwhelmingly
composed of people of color.
While
I had considered that the motives behind increasing police presence in “inner
cities” are ingrained racist practices that target black people for crime
rather than arresting actual criminals, 13th
really opened my eyes to the deep roots of the United States’ prejudice. It’s
crazy to think that candidates are elected using dog-whistle politics like being
“tough on crime” to appeal to the conservative psyche. We are still essentially
living in the Reconstruction Era under a different name.
[1]
“Primary Documents in American History: 13th Amendment to the U.S.
Constitution,” last modified November 30, 2015, https://www.loc.gov/rr/program/bib/ourdocs/13thamendment.html.
Thoughts on Blueprints to Freedom
Response to Blueprints to Freedom
Shining a
spotlight on one of the unsung heroes of the civil rights movement, Blueprints to Freedom, gives the
audience an inside look at the conversations and arguments among leaders of the
movement, as well as the internal tensions of Bayard Rustin. The blood, sweat, and tears, required to pull
off one of the climactic moments of the civil rights movement are on full
display throughout this play. Struggles
for freedom and justice are complicated, and they involve humans with complex
identities. Rustin, a nonviolent
organizing mastermind, faced betrayal, humiliation, and the constant threat of violence
as a gay black man in America. Rustin’s
self-doubt and resilience seem to wrestle each other throughout the
performance, and in the end we remember that seeming defeats are mixed in with
the victories, but hope is the common thread to which we must cling.
In the
first act of the play we see the butting heads of the civil rights leaders as
they grapple with differing means to the common end of justice. Rustin and civil rights leader, Phillip
Randolph, argue over protest and politics.
On one hand their righteous anger boils up and those on the margins
demand to be heard, through protest. On
the other hand, Randolph reminds Rustin of the politics of the affairs. They must fully commit to nonviolent,
integrated demonstrations in order to not only be heard, but for change to take
place. The latter work is the more
difficult and complicated. Rustin has to
reconcile his true emotions with his prudence to organize such a massive
demonstration.
This lesson, like many others in
the play, is relevant for activists today. A certain group or organization may
have a particular agenda for social change, but not the power or influence to
carry the plans out. Thus, a coalition
between groups, between organizations, or between movements must form to build
that influence. However, there is a cost
association with each addition to the coalition. Issues relevant to one group may be
irrelevant or regressive to another group.
So sacrifices have to be made to establish a broader, more encompassing
coalition. For example, in the play John
Lewis was asked to amend his speech so as not to alienate some of those
assembled through his militant language.
These sacrifices even affect the personal identities of those
involved. It is revealed that Dr. Martin
Luther King had to disassociate from Rustin for a time because he feared Rustin’s
past participation with the communist party and homosexuality would negatively
affect the movement. The civil rights
movement garnered plenty of success, but at what cost to other movements? The leaders of the civil rights movement
determined that the time was not right for LGBT rights to be pushed for, or
connected to their movement, though sexuality discrimination and defamation
severely affected one of the architects of their movement.
Blueprints
to Freedom presented the messiness of the struggle for freedom and the
humanness of those pushing for social change.
Rustin certainly was an architect, and his blueprints are still relevant
to us today. He created blueprints for
an intersectional freedom struggle, which the leaders of today would be wise to
heed.
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