Beloved communities are built on non-beloved actions

Four summers ago when Muhammad Ali died, I listened to sports talk radio and was taken aback as caller after caller waxed poetic about one of the 20th century’s most controversial athletes. The listening demographic, not known as a haven of progressives, talked about how “refreshing Ali’s candor was and how we needed more thoughtful and outspoken athletes like him.” Really?

I thought to myself, there’s no way these same people would have talked like this in the prime of Ali’s career and activism. A little more than two months later, Colin Kaepernick began kneeling during the national anthem to bring attention to police brutality and oppression to black people. I’ll let you guess at what happened to all the nostalgia from the day Ali died.

We recently lost a Civil Rights hero Charles Jones here in Charlotte. A graduate of Johnson C. Smith University (JCSU), resident of Biddleville and chairperson of the Biddleville/Smallwood/Five Points Neighborhood Association, he said his goal was to “make this a community where all people can live together. Black, white, gay, straight.” Mr. Jones advocated for and lived out his life in a way that worked to create a beloved community, the term popularized by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who Mr. Jones organized beside.

In 1960, Mr. Jones, a co-founder of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), led a sit-in at the downtown Charlotte Woolworth lunch counter with 200 of his JCSU classmates to confront racial segregation. He told a reporter he had “no malice, no jealousy, no hatred, no envy.” He simply sought just opportunity. He also led voter registrations as the rare breed who was able to blend nonviolent direct action with conventional voting, knowing both were necessary for change.

While we use words like “hero” and “pioneer” to describe men like Mr. Jones, Dr. King, and Ali once they die, let’s not act as though their work for progress was always universally welcomed. Before his death, a 1966 Gallup poll found that almost two-thirds of Americans had an unfavorable opinion of Dr. King. He and Mr. Jones, who was arrested twice with Dr. King, were considered “agitators,” “trouble-makers” or “rabble rousers.” Let’s not confuse our nation’s ceremonial pledge of allegiance with universal appreciation for people who actually pursue liberty and justice for all.

Let’s also not complacently assume the battles they fought are no longer issues. While HB514, an unpopular bill that would further exacerbate CMS school segregation, left its political supporters defeated politically in 2018, many are re-running in 2020. Landlord discrimination has evolved into Source of Income Discrimination (SOID), which disproportionately prevents black families from finding rental properties, exacerbating our community’s upward mobility issues.

Between Charlotte Uprising’s push for police accountability and advocacy for the lives of black and brown transwomen, Communicad Collectiva’s push to end 287g’s unjust immigrant treatment, and Red for Ed’s push to restore respect and care for public education and the teaching profession, direct action remains vital.

I challenge the comfortable to stand alongside these folks, but more importantly, I challenge the broader community to stop vilifying and black-balling interrupters while they live before hypocritically celebrating them in death. Understand, what you’re doing right now is what you would’ve been doing during the Civil Rights movement. There’s no road to a beloved community without discomfort of the status quo.

This story was originally published January 13, 2020 at 2:00 PM.