Reflections on Black Lives Matter in 2020

2020 is certainly shaping up to be an interesting year. And we’re only halfway through.

When I got married last fall, the stuff of 2020 would have sounded like science fiction meets the Book of Exodus meets the ramblings of conspiracy theorists: video footage of UFOs was confirmed by the Pentagon last April; parts of Africa, Asia, and the Middle East are facing a near-biblical plague of locusts; an almost 4,000-mile dust storm has migrated from the Saharan Desert to the southeastern United States; and the pandemic that has brought the world to its knees continues to rage.

Not every unfortunate happening of this new decade, however, appears quite so unprecedented. The murder of George Floyd last month was unfortunately a familiar story — an unarmed Black man killed by police. The storyline is as nonfiction as the ghosts described by William Faulkner and Toni Morrison, those specters of slavery and racism that have haunted America since its inception. But this time, in an anxiety-saturated milieu worn down by pandemic fatigue, emotional reactivity reached a climacteric.

The collective grief following Floyd’s death was so far-reaching because it — perhaps paradoxically — resurrected visions of a better, more humane America, a nation resembling that of King’s fabled Dream. It was precisely this juxtaposition of American ideals with American reality that fueled protests reminiscent of those from the civil rights movement more than half a century ago. The US response to the wrongful killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and others was nothing short of incredible as the country, and indeed the wider international community, shifted its collective gaze to Black Lives Matter.

Although most Americans seem to acknowledge that Floyd’s murder is linked to broader, institutional problems on a national scale, anger and anxiety have been channeled into different politicized targets. Politics polarize, with social media providing an echo chamber in which both fear and fervor are amplified.* Humans are naturally tribal creatures who gravitate toward the similar and the familiar, often interpreting the world in terms of self vs. other. But when people treat political parties like sports teams, black-and-white thinking can ensue that forces people into narrow boxes and oversimplifies complex issues. From what I’ve seen, passion-fueled political ideologies in 2020 have produced a rigid set of categories that looks something like this:

Republican/Trump-supporting/America-loving/Christian/values law and order/hierarchical/prizes individual liberties/past-glorifying/realist OR Democrat/Biden-supporting/global outlook/spiritually pluralistic/values empathy and equality/egalitarian/prizes collective well-being/future-glorifying/idealist.

We perhaps semi-consciously craft these kinds of mental frameworks, or schemas, to more efficiently comprehend a complicated world filled with infinite subjective experiences and confusing realities. But the drawback is that our advanced primate brains can suddenly turn reptilian when confronted with people who hold conflicting opinions. Politics, like religion, can tap into some of the deepest, rawest, most primal convictions that underlie a person’s sense of identity. Opposing views can set off alarm bells that trigger dichotomized thinking and firmly entrenched biases: someone is either on our side, or they represent that which we fear and despise most, whether that be lawlessness, disorder, injustice, ignorance, or hollow apathy.

It is possible to wholeheartedly support and appreciate good police officers and to openly acknowledge the fact that systemic racism has resulted in the brutalization of Black bodies and the psychological and economic devastation of Black communities. It is possible to fully endorse BLM civil rights activism and to simultaneously worry about the possibility of COVID-19 spreading due to protest activity. And it is possible to champion peaceful protests and to condemn acts of senseless vandalism, the smashing of store windows, and the utter lawlessness of petty looters. I can be both realistic and idealistic without being forced to choose just one. And like loving a human being, I can truly love America while recognizing that it is flawed and imperfect.

An antidote to the kind of dualistic thinking that sews hate and division is conversation. Being able to listen to another’s perspective from a place of open-minded curiosity is a skill that most of us must mindfully develop. When confronted with emotionally charged content about big topics that run contrary to our beliefs, the tendency is to shut down, label, overgeneralize, lash out, or begin mobilizing a defense. There may be a temptation to preach to the choir of our like-minded social bubbles. However, we must, in certain contexts, learn to beat back knee-jerk reactions. Oftentimes, we need to adopt a stance of greater humility. That’s not to say we must like or approve of opposing opinions or compromise our values for the sake of being agreeable; merely that if we hope to reduce the spreading of toxic political polarization in the current social climate, we must work to facilitate constructive dialogue about sensitive subjects. And in addition to listening, we must be able to effectively articulate our views and perspectives without merely adding fuel to the fray.

Painful conversations about topics like race ultimately challenge us to strive toward higher standards, filling the empty, gaping chasms that span between extreme ideologies. It makes me think of little bridges forming between two cliff sides that allow for the safe passage of information. These channels of communication can help us work toward greater understanding, and thus toward solutions that can build stronger communities, making the saddest and meanest parts of life perhaps a little better.**

Last spring, I took a multicultural counseling class for my clinical psychology master’s program that encouraged precisely these principles. On topics related to social justice, and specifically to racism, I learned more about how avoiding discussions regarding differences — even seemingly PC “colorblind” approaches that emphasize one big, human family — actually generates more anxiety around these issues and can invalidate important aspects of people of color’s identities and experiences. This inspired me to publish a series of blog posts dedicated to Black Lives Matter. Through cross-racial dialogue, I hope to learn more about what systemic racism looks like and to work alongside interviewees to spread awareness about one of the most difficult conversations we face in this new decade.

So stay tuned for my first interview, which will feature a fellow master’s student who works in early childhood education in a primarily African-American community. Until then, be safe and well, and be sure to subscribe and share your comments below.

Notes

* Partisan antipathy between Republicans and Democrats has been growing since the turn of the new millennium. See this 2014 Pew Research article for pre-Trumpian ideological trends.

** Thank you to a friend who noted parallels between the ideological underpinnings of my post and the mission of Braver Angels, an organization that endeavors to depolarize American politics through a grassroots approach. Braver Angels seeks to cultivate what is referred to as “patriotic-empathy” in order to diminish partisan vitriol and unite Americans on both sides of the political spectrum.