Eyes on the Prize

Excerpt from “The Black Book”

“Untitled” (9/24/16)

Cecil told me that he’s never been more scared at a protest. I initially thought of the unpredictable violence and how it could affect one, but that wasn’t the case. He was afraid because we were “not moving”. We united and took to the streets, but who were we following? “We looked like sheep, it looked like the perfect plan.”

I wanted to act shocked at this revelation, but that thought filled my head as well. It’s just as Ayn Rand stated, “the mob has no value, because there is no man (or woman) in the mob.” That’s what we were today, a mob of people, with no goal. Yesterday, I led the mob, today, I stood apart from it. At no point was I in the mob, I do not see myself capable of blending into the crowd. I must be my own man, and stand for my own values, not just the collective.  I admit that, within my heart, I felt nothing; we did nothing.

We didn’t disrupt the system, we didn’t halt the dollar; we peacefully marched through the streets of Charlotte on designated paths. We didn’t even go where we wanted to go! Instead, we were paraded by the pigs, or led by a sheepdog like lost lambs .

Last night, at the precinct, I met a woman from Ferguson. She told us of her trials, and then made statement that started some unrest. “Now that we’re here [at the station], we don’t need to leave, until they give us what we want.” What we wanted were the tapes (of the officer involved shooting of Keith Lamont Scott). Again, my heart called to me, and I agreed; but, the mob did not. They believed that more marching would bring them closer to their demands (I’m hesitant to classify them as goals, because I am not sure if they have any).

We’re never going to win if we just march. It’s an act that appeases the masses, but it does not change anything. We moved at night, where there was little inconvenience for the city, aside from minor traffic detours; we walked on Saturday, on the weekend, while the citizens stayed indoors and watched us from the comfort of their couches.

WE DIDN’T EVEN OPPOSE THE POLICE!

We didn’t get those tapes released. Just because we had numbers does not mean that we are a force. There is power in unity, but if there is nobody to direct it, then, what is the point of having power? So much wasted potential.  There has to be a more efficient way to stake our claim.

However, there is beauty in this. The protests tore down the dividing lines that the government has erected between its citizens. Out there, on the scorching streets, we realize that we are all one people, God’s children. If it wasn’t for the protest, then we wouldn’t have come together. We wouldn’t be energized and able to uplift the city from this tragedy.

The black fists instill in me a sense of hope. I believe the revolution, and combating the system, begins with black power. Everybody has black power, it is the revolutionary spirit that rages within all of those who have been victimized by the oppressor. That is the power we will use to win, but before that, we must set glorifying goals.

Will I be able to lead when my time comes? I can only pray.

 

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