Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Religious Power Mongers


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.

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.)

"The Mouth and the Fist" Clip
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.