Even
in death, the politics of race shapes what we remember, who we remember, and
how we remember.
A
Black US President feels for the children of Newton. He imagines them as his
children, and is lost for meaning at the loss of the White children in rich
suburbia of Newton. His solidarity for these children is expressed in the pain
that he visibly feels and the responsibility he takes for collective action.
The President’s sense of solidarity connects his experiences as a father with
the fathers of the children of Sandy Hook. His tears offer a moment of
authenticity through which we connect with him and with the pain of being a
parent who has lost a child. Like him, as a father, I feel pain.
I
also feel pain for the children in Gary, Indiana, a place a few miles South of
Chicago where Black children die from gun violence. I have heard stories of
suffering and hope that community members in Gary share. In Gary, the politics
of race is written into the everyday organizing of schools, the opportunities
that are absent, the parks that are missing, and the food that remains
inaccessible. The stories I have heard in my conversations in Gary speak to the
tremendous courage and resilience of community members who work every day to
find meaningful avenues for engagement and to build hopes for health. Like the
senselessness of the violence in Newton, the violence in Gary is senseless.
There is no meaningful interpretive frame through which one can understand the
loss of lives.
The
dignity of the innocent lives lost in Gary connects in solidarity with the
dignity of the innocent lives lost in Newton. The color of loss is different,
and so is the economics of loss. A large number of deaths take place as a
result of gun violence in poorer parts of urban neighborhoods. These stories of
gun violence get written off as stories of crime, criminalizing communities,
spaces, and races. In these instances, the victims of gun violence are denied
the dignity of having a meaningful story that occupies our imaginations. We
don’t hear the stories of poor children of color who are killed by gun
violence. We don’t witness large scale global media narratives that are
organized around celebrating these lost lives. We don’t feel pain through these
stories of loss and don’t connect every day to mobilize for action.
This
makes me wonder then, why is it that there are only certain deaths that we are
willing to remember? Why is it that we as global collective communities only
tell the stories of the dignity and innocence of some lives and not others?
Even more so, I remain lost for meaning in understanding what is it that
connects an African American President with the stories of loss of White
children in upper socioeconomic status neighborhoods, and not with Black
children in poor neighborhoods. Why is it that the President sees his daughters
in the loss of lives in Sandy Hook and not in loss of lives of African American
children in Gary or Chicago.
Through
this global storying of violence, I also hope for listening to stories of
children of color and children of the poor. Through these stories, I hope we
can connect with an African American President who represents the hope for
civil rights and social justice. Through these stories, I hope that we can talk about the politics of race that
reproduces disproportionate risks for children of color. The storying of the
dignity of children of color is essential to political mobilization around the
disproportionate burdens of risk faced by children of color. Are there any
storytellers out there?