This post is by Page May who is an organizer with We Charge Genocide and will be part of the youth delegation traveling to Geneva in November 2014. I am so happy to be able to feature Page’s brilliant voice here.

I am still processing my thoughts on the brief time I spent in St. Louis. I was deeply moved by the energy, love, and intensity of the protestors, particularly the many young people leading the march.

photo by Page May (St. Louis, 10/11/14)

After the rally, a White Missourian approached me asking what I thought. We shared enthusiasm for the day’s events but our conversation ended when she said she “only hopes it stays peaceful…that some people have broken windows and started looting…which ruins it for everyone and takes away from the whole thing.” When I returned to Chicago, I tried to stay updated by following #FergusonOctober. I found myself similarly frustrated by the pattern of outrage over the police using such excessive force on “peaceful protestors.”

There is nothing peaceful about having to fight for your people’s lives and nothing surprising about police violence against Black people. This White, liberal, insistence on “peaceful protest” and what qualifies as such is at best misunderstanding and at worst inherently antagonistic to Black struggle.

photo by Page May (St. Louis, 10/11/14)

While processing my thoughts on this, I’ve found myself referring to one of my favorite poems, by Ethan Viets-VanLear- a co-organizer in We Charge Genocide and fellow UN delegate.

And the police of the block that got a vendetta on every Black boy child;
The perpetrators of this fabricated peace we’ve apparently disturbed!
I was born on the gutter
handcuffed on the curb.
I was born in a dungeon,
medicated and shackled,
smothered so I couldn’t speak.

I find so much wisdom here in Ethan’s words. His recognition that what- as well as who/when/where/how- is defined and understood as “peace” is a fabrication that normalizes an anti-black status-quo. Moreover, that the construction of “the peace” is not only exclusionary of Black people, but positioned in fixed opposition to us: We are implicitly (as Black people who exist) and explicitly (as Black people who resist) in disturbance of “the peace.” And as those enlisted to serve and protect “the peace,” the police have always been tasked with keeping Black people in our place- as slaves, criminals, deviants, and dangerous. The police are, as Ethan describes, “the perpetrators of this fabricated peace we’ve apparently disturbed.” They have always been at war with us. Our history in this country is one of captivity and genocide- dungeons and shackles.

photo by Sarah Jane Rhee (St. Louis, 10/11/14)

As the rally gathered near the St. Louis county courthouse, we encircled a large fountain. Apparently the city regularly dyes the water different colors. On the day of the rally, it happened to be red. One of the speakers noted this and how it should serve as a reminder of the blood that’s been shed and the millions of Black lives lost. He added that the infamous 1857 Dred Scott case took place here- the Supreme Court decision that officially named and legally codified our fundamental slaveability and status as non-citizens.

As I think back to that moment- standing next to the blood-red waters, surrounded by thousands of others, and countless signs declaring “Black Lives Matter”- there are many words that come to mind to describe how it felt: inspiring, loving, heartbreaking, celebratory, cathartic, hopeful, affirming, youthful…

Peaceful is not one of them.

photo by Page May (St. Louis, 10/11/14)

I repeat, there is nothing peaceful about fighting for your people’s lives. Black people have never been allowed peace in America- we are positioned as the embodiment of its antithesis. To qualify, endorse, or dismiss Black protest by such a one-sided, ahistorical standard critically misses the cause and purpose of our struggle.

We are haunted by our history.  But we refuse to admit the presence (and present) of this country’s violent past. This hollows our resistance and limits the connections we can build across time and place and each other. The insistence that our protest be described and sanctioned as “peaceful” ignores the violence that motivates our resistance and the repression our movements face. It also underestimates the significance of our chanting: “Black Lives Matter!” For we have every reason to be afraid to speak this truth- it is an act of defiance. Beyond brave, #BlackLivesMatter is much more than a plea for mercy or recognition; It is a revolutionary re-claiming and re-imagining of life and freedom and peace from this overwhelmingly anti-black world.

photo by Page May (St. Louis, 10/11/14)

Remember, we were never meant to survive. And as awful a truth that is for me to believe, it also gives me some hope. For not only are we still here, but we continue to know and speak that our lives matter. The open celebration and love of Black life- in Ferguson and across the country- will keep me in the struggle.

To the beautiful people of Ferguson, thank you. Keep fighting.

photo by Page May (St. Louis, 10/11/14)

For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours;

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
This instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid.

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.

            -Audre Lorde
A Litany for Survival