Proud Boys and Trump loyalists went to the capitol in an attempt to thwart a fair election. Fueled by a tyrannical President. They did not succeed.
Editorial
January 6, 2021, in the Capitol we saw an assault on our country. It was, to me, beautifully poetic, as this country has stepped on my people since its inception from slavery, to Jim Crow, to mass incarceration. But to others, it was a scary moment that brought tears and fear into their hearts.
I was born in Alexandria, Virginia, at Fairfax Hospital, approximately 10 miles from the Capitol. My family is scattered around the Washington DC metro area. Various members of my family work for the government. My mother worked in L’Enfant Plaza until the day she died. DC is my home. It is where I cut my teeth. Where I had my first love. My first heartbreak. My first dance. My first failures and successes. And now it is a source of anger more so than ever.
I used to hang out at the mall during my lunch breaks. I worked at 9th and F at Gordon Biersch for many years. I’d been sitting there multiple times when the Capitol Police detained people for simply being the wrong shade. I was there on October 3, 2013, when a Black woman named Miriam Carey was murdered by Capitol Police for making a wrong turn. I have seen racism on a scale in Washington DC that was so intense I moved. Had I known Eugene had the same racist history I would not have come here, but I am here for now.
What we saw Wednesday, Jan 6 wasn’t only an attack on democracy, it was an attack on Black voters. Many people in this country feel Black people’s votes aren’t valid. The people who built this country for free with their hands. The people whose families were sold into slavery. The people who yesterday took back the Senate and made Mitch McConnell the Senate Minority Leader (which is poetic in its own right.) According to Journalist Adrija Roychowdhury of The Indian Express, for the first time in history, a confederate flag flew in the Capitol. Washington DC was the capital of The Union, as Richmond was the capital of the Confederacy, therefore flying a Confederate flag in a Union building was, and is considered treason.
Like I said earlier, I found it poetic. When I see these proud boy types I personally find them funny. Something about machismo energy makes me laugh. As a writer, I’ve found a lot of good content in the childish antics of right-wing foolishness. Realistically, I’m pretty conservative. It’s unlikely I’m going to open my doors for someone who doesn’t share my same ideals. I’m unwavering in my beliefs, and I see no reason at this point in my life to change my opinions based on someone else’s levels of comfort.
But what upset me was getting texts from my friends and family back home that are scared. Knowing that they don’t want to leave the house. Knowing that they are worried about their kids getting shot by some random idiot, or beat up on the walk home. I fear for my family. I know they are okay. We are Black, we’re used to this aggression. It has been a constant in our lives since we were children. I remember as a young child my peers’ parents saying racist things to me. I’m used to it. But I don’t want my loved ones to feel it.
I think that’s the hardest part of this whole thing: the reality that in America it will never get better. Its illness is too deep. Here in Oregon, I get stared at everywhere I go. My culture is often mocked, or copied in a tacky awful way. I often have people ask me if I know where I came from. My peers defend their racist friends to me, then expect me to raise my kids here. The reality is racism is so deep there is no cure. The only cure I see is for BIPOC people to build their own communities. The key to that, however, is education and financial independence, which oftentimes relies on the system, that was built against you, to work for you.
However, I am fortunate. I grew up in a decently middle-class family in Virginia, and haven’t had to deal with a lot of the issues people of all nationalities deal with. I’ve never really worried about where I would sleep or what I would eat (except for a brief time of nomadness in my 20s.) That doesn’t take away the cultural impacts of racism and bias, but it is one less thing to worry about, which allows me more space to do what I like. I’m fortunate that those things also keep me fed and facilitate my growth. But it’s hard.
I worry about those who have not yet discovered this strength and resolve. To those on campus, I say, I’m here. I know how often people on this campus will ignore your cries, but I won’t. I get it. The reality is that work needs to be done in order to create change, and it’s safe to say half of white America has no interest in doing it. That’s okay, as long as you know it you can move forward. But we need to do it together. So hit me up. I’m here. Let’s connect.
