The Voice of a Misunderstood Black Millennial Voter

A black millennial is not easily defined. As a collective group, black millennials cannot be categorized, boxed nor pre-determined. In the same manner in which the black race is not monolithic in thoughts and ideas, black millennial voters are not easily swayed. Black millennials were born as products of a society with proliferating technological advancements and social events that shape their opinions and their position within society. Events that gave rise to the Black Lives Matter Movement make this upcoming election that much more important and confusing for young black voters.

Like most young black millennial voters, my first encounter with the polls was for the re-election of Barack Obama in 2012. Growing up in a small, suburban white town in New Jersey, I was the only person of color amongst friends. Therefore, knowledge of my black history and my black body was subscribed in lectures from my father, reading books by Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, Richard Wright, amongst others. Becoming aware of how black people fought and died to be equal citizens of this country and participate in this democratic process of voting grounded my perspectives. Although systematically disenfranchised from the polls, for blacks, the ability to vote was to be free. But more importantly, it was the ability to place individuals in positions of power that could change this nation’s oppressive nature towards blacks was crucial.

Within the span of seven years of Obama being in the White House, exposure to the bite of racial injustice was like venom to the veins. As a black millennial, I found myself in a constant state of frustration by seeing the death of my people and a disinvestment in the system. Politicians’ ability to address racial issues is defined by empty promises, but in reality, they don’t use their resources to push solutions. Much of my angry stemmed from the ways in which the media framed the deaths of black bodies, the subsequent protests and the Black Lives Matter movement. No one can seem to forget about August 2015 when two Black Lives Matter activists interrupted a Bernie Sanders rally in Seattle, drawing some boos from the crowd and ultimately causing the cancellation of the presidential candidate’s speech. Likewise, when Martin O’Malley was addressing an audience at a Netroots Nation gathering, he was disrupted by black protestors after saying “all lives matter.”

I was overwhelmed by news outlets and articles explaining that although police reform is a just and vital cause that ought to be pursued with urgency, the activists’ treatment of candidates like Sanders was a strategic mistake. Many criticized the attack of Democratic candidates because their stance is much better than the alternative right-winged progressives—but is there really a candidate whose campaign aligns with black demands for racial justice?

What I’m seeing is a rise of black millennial voters that are not wed to the Democratic Party. I’m seeing a country and the media that was willing to throw two black women under the bus for a white candidate with the fastest rising privilege, drawing massive crowds, and when Black Lives Matter didn’t allow him to speak it became problematic. As African-Americans and citizens of a country that values political participation, this country is always asking for political engagement from blacks but if it’s not in the manner deemed appropriate we are asked to sit down and be silent.

But when Bernie Sanders was disrupted, this lead to young black millennial voters pushing and educating him because he was not exposed nor knowledgeable about black issues, and in doing so the Black Lives Matter movement handed him a framework for criminal justice reform. As a dominant figure, he has made himself vulnerable to be pushed and has shown a willingness that our issues are worth addressing. More importantly, we are engaging in dismantling white privilege. A feminist and anti-racism activist, Peggy McIntosh, alluded to the origins of privilege and stated that in order to redesign social systems we need to look at how the denials of white, male privilege act as political tools of the advantaged.

Like my peers that are pushing Bernie Sanders, I push back with the notion that any candidate can have my vote just because any candidate can give an impactful speech on race relations. It means nothing without the backing of their resources to change the problem. I am from a generation not seduced by the inevitability of progress. I am from a generation who views justice with intersectionality for all, no matter their race or sexual orientation, and retooling a system that profits off the oppressed. This generation has utilized social media as a means of penetrating the sphere of poised power and shortening the distance between public and candidate. I am one of many that won’t play into the respectability politics of the ones before us and will disrupt the status quo in order to advance an agenda that will dismantle structural racism in this country.

This is the voice of a young black millennial voter still waiting for a candidate to understand the black plight.

A Million Men March for Reparations

“Justice or Else”. A theme echoed up and down the National Mall in Washington, D.C. As thousands came together last weekend in a peaceful rally organized by the Nation of Islam leader, Louis Farrakhan, to mark the 20th anniversary of the Million Man March. The first rally was called on October 16^th 1995, drawing a crowd of majority black men to Washington from all over the country. On that day in history, Louis Farrakhan spoke about the ills of white supremacy and urged black men to make an honest and solemn vow to stop killing each and to become better fathers, brothers, and husbands. Flash forward 20 years and many of the social and racial problems of that day are unfolding to the detriment of black men today.

As my peers and I made the trip from the University of Delaware to Washington D.C. early that Saturday morning, all I could envision was my position on the timeline of history and that being a part of such a movement of black bodies was a glorious moment for my people. In 1995, America was just three years removed from the violent beating of Rodney King by Los Angeles police that led to the L.A. riots and now in 2015, America is only one year removed from the fatal shooting of Michael Brown by police officer Darren Wilson that led to the Ferguson riots. History repeating itself or history never repairing its wrongs.

Those wronged by history were black bodies bound in chains and forced into servitude that lasted for over 240 years and were never adequately compensated for their labor. In Ta-Nehisi Coates’ compelling article, ‘The Case for Reparations’ he addressed the systemic pitfall that blacks have fallen into stemming from the moment newly emancipated slaves were cheated of the promise to make liberation meaningful. This moment was further exacerbated when Major General Sherman’s Special Field Order declared each family would be given a plot of up to 40 acres of tillable ground and a loan for a mule. An empty promise still rearing its ugly head in the hopes of maintaining white supremacy.

African-Americans today are still in debt and in bondage by the hands of whites as seen in mass incarceration rates. Termed ‘slavery by a new name’, America’s problem with over incarceration has African-Americans now constituting nearly 1 million of the total 2.3 million incarcerated population. The criminalization of black men has shaped the school-to-prison pipeline that now 1 in 3 black male babies are expected to go to jail by the time they hit adolescence, according to the Bureau of Justice. The detriment of black men is 31% of the black male population has lost their right to vote because of prior convictions. Black bodies have ultimately fallen victim to a criminal justice system that prioritizes finality over fairness. America has removed the chains but has upheld the ideals of white supremacy that states black people are not citizens and should be denied the rights of citizenship.

As I stood in the crowd, pondering whether or not times have changed and getting frustrated at the idea that we are still fighting against the same system of oppression, I realized that what’s new is our capacity for intersectionality in the movement. Not only were we rallying against police brutality and supporting the efforts of the Black Lives Matter movement but we were also hearing the injustices done to the Native American community as well. What’s new is our generation’s technological advancements that give us the ability to capture police brutality and injustices against black bodies.

On this 20^th anniversary of the Million Man March, African-Americans are constantly reminded that the demand for reparations is a call that must be answered. The American economy, since its inception, has been built on the backs of slave labor. The same Capitol building we gathered in front of was built by slaves, white presidents of the past owned slaves and traded them on the very grounds of the White House. Opponents of redress are perpetuating a deceitful amnesia that undermines the reality that slavery was not destroyed only born again in the form of discriminatory laws, unequal distribution of wealth, housing and educational disparities.

When we scream “Justice or Else”, we are demanding that America reckon with their moral debts. Without justice and compensation for those broken by the hands of racial supremacy, America is tearing at the very fabric of the tapestry that has made this country whole.

 

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/06/the-case-for-reparations/361631/

http://www.npr.org/2012/01/16/145175694/legal-scholar-jim-crow-still-exists-in-america

http://madamenoire.com/592281/million-man-march/

http://www.noi.org/about-million-man-march/

http://teachinghistory.org/history-content/ask-a-historian/24170

http://www.eji.org/massincarceration

 

The Case of Compromise

The Case of Compromise

BY: AYANNA GILL

When I think of the word compromise, I think of compromise in the face of social justice. We are living in a world where racism, inequality and the persecution of minorities in the United States have surfaced in national conversation. Last week this country watched history being made when South Carolina pushed through an intense vote that gave the Confederate flag its last day in front of the state house. A move coming weeks after nine African-American members of the Emanuel AME Church were gunned-down by 21-year old Dylann Roof. In what felt like the world in unison was mourning the loss of individuals that each impacted their community in large ways, after such an incident seeing the Confederate flag flown full staff in the wake of their deaths was a gruesome reality of the racial divisions at play within America. As South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley signed into law the removal of the Confederate flag, so created a compromise between right and wrong, moral justice and political positioning. Putting flag politics and political issues aside a compromise had to be reached for the people of Charleston.

A compromise in the place of forgiveness, a mutual understanding that African-Americans in a Southern state tormented by a past that has socially, economically disenfranchised them under the image of the Confederate flag. When Nikki Haley addressed the public she stated that the coming down of the Confederate flag signaled a new day for the state of South Caroline and the country, for the legislature this was a compromise of coming together to make a promise to the African-American community that they do not condone what was done to their members and that their deaths will not go in vain. When the blood of innocent people is shed in order to spur race wars and uphold a 500 year-old racial ideology that viewed African-Americans as inferior and a plague on the country, compromise needs to be reached. Moreover, the passing of this bill across political lines was a compromise in the face of Southern white Republicans who believe in states’ rights and that the flag symbolizes Confederate pride in a historical sense but reached a consensus that this debate goes beyond personal views. That keeping the Confederate flag up meant in many ways they don’t care about the death of those nine church members.

In the case of compromise, it is crucial to look at it through the lens of a settled agreement and a promise to those disenfranchised in the realm of social justice. My comparison to the Confederate flag is that compromise is really a sense of give and take, but many times it needs to come swiftly when people are marginalized and deprived of rights and privileges as citizens. As one who fully believes in compromise as an African-American female growing up in a country that is still facing the same issues of my grandparents, see full reparations has yet to be seen. Compromise in order to dismantle the patriarchy sought fit to murder nine individuals in cold-blood within a sacred sanctuary is a force this country needs to move forward. But was it enough?

Gov. McAuliffe ‘concerned’ by reports ABC officers abused UVa. student Martese Johnson

Another African-American man brutally arrested.

Black Women in Sports Foundation in Philadelphia

My first interview on the radio during my summer internship in 2013

100.3 RNB

Today we talk to Ayanna Gill who is currently a mentor/intern for the Black Women in Sports Foundation in Philadelphia. Ms. Gill informs us about this awesome non profit organization that teaches our youth in the Greater Philadelphia area how to play different sports, staying active and eating heathy. The foundation offers after school and summer programs. With our country’s high children obesity rate this organization is  great to be a part of and support. Check out the interview.

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Monkeys

My experiences in Barbados have been one amazing rush of meeting amazing people to having moments that I could cherish for the rest of my life. One of the greatest moments that has ever happened took place without warning. I knew that Barbados had wildlife. To my shock I was hit head on by the lizards, birds, bats that I thought were birds, prehistoric looking snails, to the greatest of them all–the monkeys. Our first tour of the island we drove through St. Lucy, which is located at the top of the island and where the Wildlife Reserve is placed. As we were driving along the roads, monkeys were running along the road and jumping into the nearby bushes. Everyone in the front of the bus, who could see them clearly, were freaking out but I just saw the tail end of things.

This entire trip I’ve been trying to see monkeys or at least just one until finally it happened. Going to the beaches I always see this guy walking around with a pet monkey clinging to his back. Everyone would tell me that he charges to take a picture but I still wanted to muster up the courage to follow him and pet the monkey. But the stars must have been in my favor. One night my friends and I decided to hang out at the local rum shop with our favorite local named “Rastaman”. It was a good time of laughs and talking to the regulars until out of nowhere my friend pointed behind me and started screaming–“Look! That guy has a monkey!”

I immediately turned around, it was so fast I thought I thought I had whiplash, and to my excitement there it was, a baby monkey. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. Its owner, the same guy from the beach, had it on a leash but it was walking up and down the table and some women were petting it like a cat. I jumped up and went over to see it. My friend was quick to touch but I was so scared. It was the cutest thing ever and I was just out of my mind with excitement and nerves to touch it. Everyone was trying to pet it and feed it. I turned my back for one moment and then all of a sudden I feel something jump on me. My friend was telling me not to move and I stood like a statue. The monkey was climbing all over my shoulders and on my head. It was really hanging out on my shoulders. One of the guys grabbed my phone and with enough time took a solid picture. It was absolutely amazing. A moment captured. Forever cherished. My baby monkey that I named “Rumel”, after I caught him taking sips of rum from his owner’s flask. I will never forget.

My furry friend

Home

Countryside

Before traveling to Barbados I watched this beautiful TED Talk by Pico Iyer titled “Where is Home?” Pico Iyer paints a wonderfully touching picture on what it means to be at home in a world where our origins are that of cultural mashups.

Home is a very difficult word to conceptualize in this day and age. To me, home is a sanctuary, a place of love and comfort that always welcomes you with open arms; where the rags of your life are turned into quilts. For many people home is a connector to where you are from, where you are born or raised and educated. But for more and more of us in this generation, “home has less to do with a piece of soil that we walk on than a piece of our soul”. A strong point that really resonated with me about his speech was the idea that people today take pieces of many different places and put them together into a stained glass whole. Home is considered a work in progress, it’s like a project on which we are constantly adding upgrades, corrections and improvements. This point really hit for me because it explains why so many people in this world travel regularly, stay in different parts of the world for extended periods of time and call it home. It’s the idea of where you are coming from is less important than where you are going.

In many ways, my journey to Barbados was a search for my extended family. And I found them. Ever since I was a little girl going with my parents to the hospital to visit my Grandmother Gill and listening to the beautifully articulated stories of my Great Aunt Iris, I have only been exposed to bits and pieces of my family story. But I have never been exposed to the real roots of my family tree. “Where am I from?” I have always known that I have had a connection to Barbados. My Aunt Iris moved to New York from Barbados and lived to be 105 years old, I loved listening to her stories of growing up on the island and the major historical events she lived through upon moving to America. I was exposed to family from Barbados, the cousins of my father, but I was still confused by our relationship. “Was this really family?”

I knew I wanted answers and seeking the truth was exactly what I wanted to do once I arrived to Barbados. And on Tuesday, January 20th, 2015 I found what I was looking for in the most shocking way. My grandfather and father extended the contact of my cousin on the island and I finally met him. Cousin Roger was his name. He had been putting together the family tree on my father’s side for a few years now, piecing together birth certificates and records until he finally had a physical family tree. I wanted to cry. The emotions that I was feeling were a rush of excitement, of years of hearing stories but still longer for more about who I was and where my family came from. My cousin was able to piece together our tree spanning back to the 1800s and how our family started in Barbados.

It all began with Horatio Rawlins–my great, great, great, great grandfather, a white plantation owner for one of the biggest plantations on the island in St. Philips. His daughter, Eva Ann married a black slave on the plantation, who was a bookkeeper named Samuel Thorpe. Horatio Rawlins gave them a portion of the plantation to live on for which they had five children, one of them being my great, great grandfather Percival Thorpe. Percival Thorpe had my great grandmother Margorie Gill who had mother grandpa Elliott Gill, who married had my father. My biggest surprise was just the idea that my family has a connection to one of the biggest, original plantations on the island. This is the same plantation I took a tour of in the first week of being here, the one that is now being used as a tourist attraction site, the same one that has been passed down for generations by families with money to claim the land. My cousin could tell the level of shock in my reactions to this information and he continued to reassure me that Barbados is my home, “you will always have family here.” It’s still taking me some time to process all this information of my story. Telling my dad and hearing his surprise over the phone–all I could do was tear up.

“Am I finding my home?”

Reflections of Past, Present and Future

Rhoda Green, an author, elaborated that the past, present and future are a continuum beleaguered by daunting  ghosts, implications and repercussions set in motion by those long departed. This quote could not have meant more to me than during our historical tour of the island by our amazing tour guide, Ian Walcott. Throughout the tour, I couldn’t help but experience a rush of overwhelming feelings as I reflected on the immense history of the island. Gazing at the wonders, opulent beauty and grandeur of the island–especially stopping at Bathsheba beach in the St. Joseph’s parish. The natural beauty of the water and the giant coral rock laid in the middle of the shore made for picture perfect moments. As we drove up and down the island the people gave me such joy, passing by all the locals they would look at us and wave with smiles on their faces. Some of my favorite moments of the tour was passing by a primary school and seeing a group of little children waving at us as we passed by. I greatly enjoyed embracing how much the locals of Barbados live with such ease, which accounts for their flawless beauty and unwavering attitudes on life.

As we traveled along the coastal roadways of the island, Ian Walcott did a great job of detailing the elaborate history of the island starting with the parish of St. James. Barbados was first inhabited by the Arawaks and Caribs at the time of the European colonization in the 16th century. Barbados is made up of 11 parishes named after saints. With Catholic Churches spread out throughout the island, Ian stated that it was the church that was responsible for educating the slaves that were brought to the island. Although Barbados is a modern country in so many ways, you can still see pieces of Barbados history in the old churches of Christ Church and Bridgetown. Churches have historical roots in every culture and can withstand the tests of time to be a collector of traditions and customs for any people. Stopping at the St. John’s Parish Church, a beautiful edifice, I learned that it was first erected in 1645, destroyed by a fire and rebuilt in 1676 and then destroyed by a hurricane and rebuilt a final time in 1836. I want to know more about the impact of religion on slavery and the Bajan culture and the idea that the church was responsible for upholding slavery. Despite this, churches still remain to this day a place of sanctuary for the locals and its walls hold a rich history.

A lot of my journey is reflecting on the past and present and how my family lineage correlates to the presence of slavery on this island. I have extended family on the island and a great deal of my voyage is finding my family connections–creating a second home. Learning from my grandmother, the triangle trade allowed for ships leaving Western Europe filled with guns and manufactured goods towards West Africa to be exchanged for slaves who were taken to Barbados and other Caribbean islands to be sold for sugar. Ian stated that it was in 1642, Barbados planters found a new source of revenue when the Dutch introduced them to sugar cane farming. By mid 1600’s sugar cane plantations were producing and exporting sugar. Throughout the tour we passed by miles of sugar cane plantations that lined the country-sides south of the island.

An interesting highlight of the day was a tour followed by lunch at Sunbury Plantation House in St. Philips. I had a very hard time being on the plantation and in all honesty I had many conflicting emotions about the experience. That was my first time being on a plantation property and seeing the inside of one. In the pit of my stomach was a haunting sense of the land and a little unease at the idea of it being used as an attraction site. I understand that the Bajans have come a long way since the disturbing  ideals of slavery and for many we should take on the thinking that we are grabbing control of the horrors of our past. But I still find it troubling and wish I could have heard more information about slavery in Barbados and its impacts on the island today. My biggest question for Ian was: “Are all Bajans accepting of a plantation attraction?”  A final highlight of the trip that resonated with me was learning about Rachel Pringle, the “notorious Barbadian madamme” and first female entrepreneur of Barbados.

Bathsheba Beach, St. Joseph

St. Lucy, Barbados

My time at Bathsheba

Map of the island

Friendly Coconut Man

I really want to learn more about this woman, as intelligent as she was, she was able to profit off her environment. Through the development of a brothel she was the entertainer of princes, sailors and soldiers visiting the island.  Her story sounds so compelling, especially the idea that the portrait we saw of her was a sensationalized depiction of her features and appearances through the eyes of white men. Overall, I had such a wonderful time touring the island and I hope to really capture more of the sights on my own during the duration of the trip.

Beautiful Barbados

St. James Beach

Welcome Wagon

Children of Sharon Primary School

My beautiful children

The Ladies of UD Winter Study Abroad 2015

Being in Barbados has been a life-changing and eye-opening cultural experience. The moment I stepped out of the plane at BWI there has been nothing but a feeling of euphoria that filled my heart. The weeks leading up to the trip have been a nervous rush, and it didn’t really feel real until I stepped out of the aircraft to the beautiful, 80 degrees paradise. “I can’t believe I’m actually in Barbados” are the words that repeatedly ran through my mind. This is my first time truly traveling outside of the country and I was amazed by the calm, vibrant, colorful and exciting nature of this island.

As part of our course requirements for this trip, students are divided to different placements throughout the island to gain a true cultural experience. Placed amongst a psychiatric facility, an HIV facility and primary schools, we venture to our locations each morning for three days out of the week. I was assigned to the primary schools and I was so excited to work with the little children, gain the experience of working with children, but more importantly understand the cultural aspects that foster the education system on the island.

My first day at Sharon Primary School was such an overwhelming, joyous and eye-opening experience. As soon as we entered the school we were introduced to the Headmistress. She sat with us to give us a formal breakdown of the school, how it functions and their methods of discipline and teaching. I was moved by their philosophy of “every student has one talent, and it is the school’s responsibility to find that talent and master it–no child is left behind or will not make it.” My moment of culture shock came from the realization that although many schools in America, in particular American public schools, strive to foster a motto many teachers find it hard to adopt, especially in urban settings. Sharon Primary lives by the purpose of a love for God, aim high and keep pure.

As we followed the Headmistress around for a tour of the school I was in awe at seeing how every time we walked into a classroom all the children stood up and recited a greeting in unison. “Good Morning Headmistress Small-Williams, how are you today.–Thank you kindly for visiting our class today.” It was honestly the most beautiful and ideal moment of seeing such well-mannered and disciplined children. All of them would say “thank you ma’am”, “excuse me ma’am”, which was a shock to me because I have never had a young child address me in that type of way, and I’ve worked with young children before. No matter the age, they were all very cordial and extremely excited to see us working with them.

I was assigned to work with young children and was so happy to paired with reception class 1 with ages 4-6 years old. The teacher introduced me as “Aunty Ayanna”, for which all the children in unison greeted me with beautiful smiles. As we moved through the day and the children were having snack time, I had an interesting conversation with the teacher. She asked me how many students are in classrooms at this age-group in America. That particular classroom had over thirty children with one teacher and no assistance, which is not something you see in America. She was telling me how much she wished that Bajan teachers could see what it’s like to teach in American schools because schools in Barbados are under-resourced, need more supplies and more assistance for smaller class sizes.

The need for assistance was made evident when the kids were sent out to lunch and then filed out for recess. My teacher had to take on another responsibility, so I was left alone to entertain the children during their playtime–which was crazy. Playing monster and tag, I left the field with dirt all over my pants after being trampled by the children–it was so much fun. After dealing with very hyper little children through the smiles and tears, scrapes and bruises, I led them inside for story time.

I had no idea what was going on without any guidance and all the children running around the school. Once I was able to get all the kids back in the classroom they ran to the back of the room and put together a stack of kids books on my lap for me to read. They all then pulled their chairs into a circle and I went through reading three story books until the teacher came back. I felt such a culture shock by how the schools operated. From my elementary school days I’m used to having lunch in a cafeteria and recess in a playground but they make due without those amenities and the greatest thing to see is how much the older children take care and look out for the younger ones.

Overall, it has been such an amazing opportunity to work with these beautiful and bright young children and I’m so excited to see what this school has in store for me.

Disregarded

Malcolm X

The Houston Forward times wrote a well versed piece on why we should never forget Malcolm X on his birthday. Stated in the article as, “The self-defined “Black Nationalist Freedom Fighter” Minister Malcolm X would have been 89 years old on May 19, 2014.” Considered an iconic martyr of his time, Malcolm X’s radical thinking of “by any means necessary” would be condoned as dangerous even in 2014.

We look back on his accomplishments and contributions to the Civil Rights Movement and Malcolm X paved the way for entities such as the Nation of Islam, Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee, Black Panther Party, Revolutionary Action Movement, Republic of New Africa, Civil Rights and Black Power to come together under one accord.

I believe it is a matter of who we choose to remember and how America continues to deal with the problem of throwing parts of its history under the rug. I refuse to believe it is an accident that even Google would acknowledge the 40th anniversary of the Rubik’s cube but not recognize the birthday of a human rights activist. We continue to live in some trying times within this nation. But I will never forget the history of those who fought and died so that people could live as equals.   http://forwardtimesonline.com/2013/index.php/editorial/commentaries/item/1273-why-we-should-never-forget-malcolm-x-on-his-birthday