"All We Wanna Do Is Be Free": A Millenial's Take on The 20th Anniversary of The Million Man March

“Man is born free, yet everywhere he is in chains.” –Jean-Jacques Rousseau

“All we wanna do is take the chains off,

All we wanna do is break the chains off,

All we wanna do is be free

All we wanna do is be free”

–J. Cole

Today’s the big day. It’s the 20^th anniversary of the Million Man March (MMM). The original march took place October 16, 1995, lead by Minister Louis Farrakhan. As I thought of the significance of this day, so many thoughts ran through my mind: “What an awesome opportunity. Will we have an ask? What is it? Maybe fatigue has set in, and we are tired of asking, America, to treat us as human beings. How many more men would be at the march if so many of us were not incarcerated for non-violent drug offenses? What does this day mean for legislation being passed at the state level to further disenfranchise votes of people from low-income communities of color? Wait—events like this are one of the things I miss about living in Washington, DC.”

Truth is, I have been blessed to see and be a part of so many events (in my lifetime), which signify monumental gains for African Americans. I was in DC in 2008, when President Obama was elected as the first black president in the history of the United States. I was in DC for his second inauguration in January 2012 and for the 50^th anniversary of the march on Washington in August 2013. In lieu of these powerful identity-shaping moments, I’d like to share three things I gleaned from thinking about the significance of the Million Man March: 

In every movement there is a generational difference (of opinion) about what is needed in a social change movement. In 1992, my hometown of East Palo Alto, California was deemed the “murder capital.” And yet, just yesterday, I was sitting in an office building speaking with a black woman elder and an African American man in his mid-thirties about the significance of the MMM. In the background hung a graffiti-ed art sign that read, “This ain’t the 90’s.” This sign was created by youth in the community to change the narrative of our community – and I respect them for it.  Amidst criticism that we millennials are “not politically active enough” beyond getting Obama in office, or that we have to do more than assemble on the front lines in Ferguson, I remembered seeing on my Facebook timeline a woman (Rahiel Tesfamariam) whose shirt said, “This Ain’t Yo' Mama’s Civil Rights Movement.” The sentiment from her shirt, as well as the sign from the youth in my community is, our elders have done things one way in the past, and while we are fighting for the same issues, we may use different tactics.  In other words, we appreciate the work of our elders, but we are not our elders.  To that end, there is nothing wrong with a difference of opinion in the movement. One view isn’t “right” and the other “wrong”— It’s just different.  If we have to agree on everything before we are able to work together, I don’t know how much work will get done.

Also, within a movement non-inclusive spaces may exist (within reason).  Yesterday, I asked the black woman who is definitely a respected elder in our village: “What are your thoughts on the Million Man March or Million Man/Woman March?” She quickly corrected me. She began to tell me how I was “watering down its original purpose in the name of being politically correct.” And she had a point. My knee-jerk reaction was to defend my position. And wax poetic about the importance of being inclusive at all times, in all spaces. But I paused.  Concurrently, there were support groups in separate rooms for teenage boys and girls in our office complex.  Was I going to bust through the door, interrupt the young men’s support group and insist that I (a woman) be included in the discussion? Of course, not. It would not have been appropriate. While there are so many intersections of oppression at play in our society, there is not a one-size-fits-all or quick-fix approach to the oppression we face on a daily basis.  Via the correction of an elder, I learned that there is not always a need to reclaim or make certain spaces inclusive or more politically correct. It depends on the context.  Some spaces are sacred spaces and it is okay for those spaces (within reason) to cater to the experience or needs of a specific group as to not water down the reality of their experience/ story.

Pick your part (or cause) of the social change movement (and make an impact).  While I valued the discussion yesterday afternoon around the importance of the MMM and the movement, I came to realize that not only are differences of opinion in any movement generational, total agreement is not necessary for us to see what role we can play in the movement.  Furthermore, the spaces we create in the movement on our journey to freedom won’t be static spaces; they will be fluid and certainly contextual. Young people, ask questions. Elders, mentor a young person to pick up the work where you left off. To the old and the young, don't assume that the other doesn't care about the struggle. And ask about the work they have done and are doing, before you assume they aren't doing any. Black people, we are a myriad of personal narratives, collective experiences, and differing ideas about what it will take to truly free us all.  Yes, it’s complex, but I am certain that eventhough this pursuit of freedom is a constant struggle, and may take a while to materialize, WE WILL BE FREE BLACK PEOPLE. I BELIEVE it and I am willing to work for it! Are you?

PS. Some of y'all black men posting statuses about being glad to have attended the march 20 years ago (and glad to be going again) -- but y'all don't look a day past 30!!!! But that's none of my business. ‪#‎blackdontcrack ‪#‎ShoutOutToMyBlackBrothasStrongBrothas ‪#‎MillionManMarch ‪#‎ISeeYou