“Maybe
this was Mike Brown’s destiny. Maybe this happened for a reason.”
The
young lady was of East Indian decent. She was making a video about my
nonprofit, the Sweet Potato Project, and had accompanied me to the protest
site.
I must
admit, I wasn’t feeling her words. It was just too soon.
We were there just days after the police shooting of
19-year-old Michael Brown. I was still seething from the images of a young,
dead body inhumanly lying on the ground for four hours. Photos of the boy’s parents restrained behind
yellow tape and outstretched arms of blue still insulted my senses. The
immediate police aggression ensued by military-style assaults: the media
inaccuracies, the apparent coverup, the stereotyping and demonizing of the
protesters had all dulled my abilities to reason.
Five years later, with much introspection, I find my
friend’s words have merit. Mike Brown’s death did mean something. And his
legacy, I believe, is apparent in the thousands of people, especially young
people, who were motivated to do something, anything about injustice.
In my book, When We Listen…” I interviewed Tiffany Shawn. She’s a young
educator who became activated by Mike Brown’s death. Shawn wasn’t immediately
impacted by the shooting. In
fact, in the wake of such high-profile vigilante or police killings in cases
such as Trayvon Martin, 17 (2012), Cary Ball, 25 (April 2013) and
Eric Garner, 43 (July 2014), she
initially considered Brown’s death just as part of an ongoing, depressing
pattern.
What caught her attention was the location of
the shooting and protests.
“Ground zero” as the area became known, was about five miles from the school
district where she graduated.
Based the locale, Shawn got
involved-actively. She not only protested, she participated in protest
strategies and actions. Unlike the media’s sensationalized reporting of
vandalism or looting during the protests, Shawn noted a strong sense of
self-discipline, resiliency and creativity among the young demonstrators. She told me about the different and creative
protest strategies she witnessed, and how frustrations, art, hip-hop and other cultural
expressions collided to make a powerful collective statement.
“Was I
impressed? Absolutely!” Shawn said. “These were young people who hadn’t done
anything like this before. They just stepped up in a major way.”
 |
| Tiffany Shawn / Photo from When We Listen |
I share Shawn’s observations. The protests gave a
disadvantaged young populace an organic platform that validated their right to
creatively challenge injustice. The grassroots uprising not only served as a
national and international template for bold, imaginative resistance; it led to
the rise of a new generation of prominent young activists. Shaun King, DeRay Mckesso, Johnetta "Netta" Elzie, Brittany Packnett,
Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi are among the names of Black Lives Matter members or young demonstrators who became
prominent after the police shooting.
I also interviewed 26-years-old John Collins-Muhammad
who went into the arena of public service after Michael Brown’s death. In 2017,
Collins-Muhammad was elected alderman of the 21st Ward in North St.
Louis. In my opinion, Collins-Muhammad, is one of the most progressive aldermen
on the 28-member board.
 |
| John Collins-Muhammad / Photo from When We Listen |
Another young standout is the tattooed Missouri politician Bruce Franks. Before 2014, Franks, 35, toiled as a cook, server, bartender, insurance agent, tax preparer and an up-and-coming
rapper with the stage name of "Ooops." Franks told me he had
no interest in politics before Brown’s death.
He was stomped and beaten by police batons, handcuffed,
teargassed and arrested. Yet, his raw street-rapping skills and gurilla activism
was his launching-pad to politics.
The young outsider
pulled off a political upset, winning the Missouri House of Representatives (78th
District) seat in 2016. Before his recent announcement of retirement, Franks
served as an effective politician who just so happened to find common ground
with a populace, police or state legislators who didn’t share his “liberal”
views, skin color or urban background.
 |
| Photo: When We Listen by Richard Reilly |
Franks is not an anomaly. His story serves as a reminder that
there are millions more like him. The young people who routinely face gun
violence—be it on ghetto streets or at the hands of biased police—were looking for ways to
express their collective outrage. Thousands of young people took
to America’s streets demanding gun control legislation after 17 people were
killed and seventeen more wounded after a crazed gunman opened fire at Marjory Stoneman
Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. The insane incident
prompted youth to publicly and aggressively call for stricter gun control laws.
This was the validated generation that responded to candidate
Bernie Sanders’ 2016 grassroots campaign to volunteer, engage and vote with their
passions in mind.
And vote, they did. This activated and engaged young
voter-base has indeed changed the trajectory of our nation. According to an analysis
conducted by the Harvard
Institute of Politics (IOP), voters between the ages of 18 and 29 “were
absolutely crucial” to the Democratic takeover of the House of Representatives during
the 2018 midterm elections which sent a record number of women—Native
American, Korean, Muslim, African-American and Latino—to congress. It’s also an indicator that young voters will
play key
roles in the 2020 elections.
After losing his seat to Ferguson Councilman Wesley Bell last
year, former County Prosecutor Robert McCulloch blamed the protests for his defeat. In the city, former state representative Kim Gardner was elected
the city’s first black circuit attorney.
Both Bell and Gardner, who campaigned as “reformers” committed to changing local criminal justice
systems, were
backed by activists and a cadre of young voters. Both, though under heavy
scrutiny and unnecessary media criticism, have lived up to their vows.
On this day, many will again mourn his loss and share in his
parent’s pain. Some will remember the
injustice in trying to seek justice. There will be those speaking of “progress”
since his death. Others will lament the lack real change.
What cannot be argued, however, is that Mike Brown’s death set
something powerful in motion and served as a catalyst that ignited a nation.
So, yeah, maybe,
just maybe this is Mike Brown’s destiny.
***************** **************
Some material for this commentary was extracted from When We Listen: Recognizing Potential of Urban Youth by Sylvester Brown, Jr.
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