On Jan. 20, just two weeks after a Capitol siege rooted in white supremacy, a young poet helped lead us forward
Like all of you, I am a knot of entangled emotions. On the one hand, I am strengthened by the orderly transition of power that we witnessed in Washington, D.C., at the inauguration; yet on the other hand, I remain deeply wounded by the staggering events in the weeks leading up to it. I want to be the woman who reaches for common ground as we try to move forward, together. But I also must be the woman who demands accountability for the people who risked our democracy to indulge hateful nostalgia. It would be so much easier if things were either/or. But they are not. And honestly, they have never been. We live in an America that is both/and.
For example, in the days following the insurrection, many exclaimed, “This isn’t America!” or “We have never seen anything like this before!” These statements are simply not true. American has seen a bloody insurrection that upended government. It happened during Reconstruction. Reconstruction is the period that followed the Civil War and during which attempts were made to redress the inequities of slavery (est. 1865–77). It was a complicated time of reconciliation; but it was during Reconstruction that the Black population made its first meaningful gains in education and franchisement. We elected Black folks to government positions, and the result, for the first time in American history, was a rising Black political and creative class.
But, some white folks were mad.
In 1898, angry mobs staged a government coup in North Carolina. A group of white vigilantes — angry and fearful at the newly elected biracial local government — joined forces with area militias to terrorize Wilmington, North Carolina. At the time, Wilmington was the South’s most progressive Black-majority city. More than a 100 Black electeds were forced out of their positions, upwards of 250 people were killed, and 100,000 Black voters were run out of town.
So you see, even back in 1898, America was both/and: both an ambitious, young country guided by aspirational declarations of equality and fraternity and a theater that many believed was divinely and permanently offered for white control. Avoiding multiracial governance has always been an anxiety of the American representative democracy. The dehumanizing policies that we have come to know as Jim Crow are a direct result of violent white rage in response to the social, political and economic gains of Black people during Reconstruction.
We do not need history books to tell us that the violent backlash in the Capitol was directly connected to the steady, and suddenly evident, gains of Black people. And please do not exclaim that America was not ready for a Black president — as if it were Obama’s fault. That is not entirely true. America, this both/and country, was not ready for both a Black president and to be multiracial.
So here we are. In this momentous time wherein some of us remember, particularly Black folks.
In remembering, we have developed an honest view of American history — even if that honesty has not been reflected in her textbooks. In remembering we have grown into protectors of this place, even if it is at times heartbreaking and terrifying. In remembering, we have developed an astonishing capacity to create space for America, the place we love, to become.
Despite the jarring reality of the insurrection, let’s not be distraught or afraid. We can handle a few hundred, or even a few thousand, ignorant people. We still have work to do. We must busy ourselves with the ennobling work of building a more perfect union. For there was a young woman, small of stature, who carried this both/and history so gracefully to the microphone, unbothered by the moral weight of it, to remind us that “somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn't broken, but simply unfinished.”
It is my deepest hope that in progress, we leave behind the angry mobs of early January and the many years of vulgar supremacy that led to it. Instead, let us hold Amanda Gorman’s words close to our hearts, so close that they lead to action — that must be the enduring legacy of January 20th.
Rukaiyah Adams is the board chair at Albina Vision Trust.
Street Roots is an award-winning weekly publication focusing on economic, environmental and social justice issues. The newspaper is sold in Portland, Oregon, by people experiencing homelessness and/or extreme poverty as means of earning an income with dignity. Street Roots newspaper operates independently of Street Roots advocacy and is a part of the Street Roots organization. Learn more about Street Roots. Support your community newspaper by making a one-time or recurring gift today.
© 2021 Street Roots. All rights reserved. | To request permission to reuse content, email editor@streetroots.org or call 503-228-5657, ext. 404.
