Tuesday, May 5, 2015

In Post-Civil Rights America Do We Know How to Organize? (originally published in the Huffington Post)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/junius-williams/in-post-civil-rights-america-do-we-know-how-to-organize_b_7011458.html


In Selma Alabama, at the 50th year anniversary of Bloody Sunday, people from all over the world gathered at the Edmund Pettus Bridge for a symbolic march to the other side. But there were no leaders to lead, no plan to make it over and back. Where were the traditional leaders?
Many of them were in Brown Chapel, iconic center of the Selma Civil Rights Movement, speaking to an audience of maybe 200 or more; while on Broad Street, more than 20,000 people waited to go across the bridge. There was live video streaming of the speeches on a "Jumbotron," but the people stopped listening, and decided to cross on their own. As the crowd surged forward, they took up all lanes in both directions across the famous bridge, bringing movement almost to a halt. People who earlier reached the other side, had to squeeze their way back single file, precariously close the edge of the bridge, as the marchers on the Selma side inched their way forward to fulfill their journey. Some of us, including several "foot soldiers" that made the moment possible by their sacrifice 50 years ago, just couldn't make it.
"We cannot walk alone. And if we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back." -- Martin Luther King, Jr.
But that's only true if we are organized. And on that Sunday, there were plenty of committed people, but little or no organization.
How do we bottle all the enthusiasm and excitement of a Selma, and translate it into organization? How do we convert the anger of Ferguson into organizations that can withstand the test of time, and use them to propel an ongoing movement to impact other crises like unemployment, over-criminalization of youth and chronic miseducation of the masses of Americans?
Well, maybe some people are doing that kind of work.
Organizational Models
In Mississippi, there is an organization called Southern Echo, co-founded by Hollis Watkins, a veteran of the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). Southern Echo is a multi-generational, interracial leadership development organization, in rural Mississippi and the surrounding region. "Multigenerational" is an intentional strategy, along with "leadership development." One of the differences between 2015 and 1960 is the separation between the old and the young. How did this happen? When we entered the electoral phase of our movement in the 1970s through the '80s, our elected leaders forgot the bridge that brought them over which was confrontational politics, the burden of which was borne by ordinary working people and especially the young. They celebrate their electoral prowess, while young people see nothing but distant leaders who do not (cannot?) do what they promise. There is no collective study of Civil Rights, except on Martin Luther King Day, and no teaching of a leadership style that emphasizes grassroot organizing. Hence the young people and the not so young have to be taught how to organize, which Southern Echo does.
Organizations need to be multi-dimensional. In the '50s and '60s, Jim Crow was an easy target: White, racist segregation and violence against black people, brought everybody in the black community together across class lines, with help from our white friends. It's easier to organize when the enemy is so clear. But what happens when black people represent the power structure? Or liberal white Democrats? And the inherent injustice is tucked away using language like "school reform," through privatization of much of the school district, as in Newark, NJ?
People have to be taught to understand education policies and practices, the nature of class discrimination, and community organization. Lack of class consciousness has divided us in Newark (and elsewhere), where some poor and working people have been promised limited access to charter schools (only a few of which are any better than the regular public schools), at the expense of closing neighborhood schools, and making kids ride buses to schools that are absent permanent science and math teachers, social workers, music teachers, after school programs, even physical education teachers. The Abbott Leadership Institute (ALI) and its high school component, the Youth Media Symposium (YMS), teaches parents, students and progressive educators the value of crossing class boundaries. We teach leadership development, as done in Southern Echo. We teach organizational skills, like the use of video and still cameras, to tell stories to join black and Latino parents and charter and public school teenagers across class and generational divides, to demand better schools for everyone.
Then there is the interracial coalition formed by Rev. William Barber II, President of the North Carolina NAACP, with its epicenter called "Moral Mondays". Rev. Barber led a few ministers in April 2013 to protest Republican dominated state government denial of Medicaid expansion, the ending of unemployment benefits, and a harsh voter identification law, among other acts of injustice. They were arrested at the state house. On following Mondays, the Movement would grow to thousands, and spread all over the state. As early as 2007, the Forward Together Coalition (formerly HKonJ) brought thousands together for "teach ins"; projected a 14-point agenda and plan of action; and included clergy, Civil Rights and LGBT advocates, unions and youth leaders amongst its ranks. With his insistence on taking "the moral high ground," Rev. Barber and his team have been able to convert the energy of protest into an organized coalition that is growing.
Therefore, successful post Civil Rights organizations need to engage in:
(1) intentional organization across class and race boundaries;
(2) emphasis on intergenerational leadership, and leadership development to build community organizations;
(3) use of new media to communicate and tell stories;
(4) mechanisms to educate about many issues;
(5) strategic use of direct action in a way that builds organization.
There are other organizations that follow some or all of this formula, so find one and join. Or get with your friends of like mind, and grow one.
Junius Williams is the author of the book, Unfinished Agenda, Urban Politics in the Era of Black Power (www.randomhouse.com); and the Director of the Abbott Leadership Institute, Rutgers University Newark

Selma to Montgomery: But What About SNCC? (Originally published in the Huffington Post)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/junius-williams/selma-to-montgomery-but-sncc_b_6763208.html


In mid-march 1965, six of us from New England colleges showed up at the SNCC (Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee) office in Montgomery, Alabama, on our way to the Selma to Montgomery March. Stokely Carmichael told us, "What are you going to Selma for... we need you here!" So like dutiful soldiers, we went downstairs, dropped off our sleeping bags, and got ready to march downtown to the state house for the right of black people to vote. Opposing us were horsemen with big sticks and motorcycle policemen, with license to beat the hell out of us. As we attempted to move out from the corner of Jackson and High Streets, the horsemen rode into our ranks, whipping anyone and anything within in the radius of their wild swings. People ran, horses reared and crashed down upon those unable to get out of the way. In a few minutes, there were many bloody faces and heads.
SNCC organizer Willie Ricks called it, "The Battle of Montgomery". This SNCC campaign with local people and college students went largely unnoticed, while Dr. King led thousands of people from Selma to Montgomery. Moviegoers who recently saw Selma will learn nothing about SNCC in Montgomery -- and SNCC's role in Selma was marginalized.
Early Selma
SNCC began organizing in Selma in 1963, invited by the Dallas County Voters League, headed by Amelia and Samuel Boynton. The DCVL began advocating for the right to vote in the1930s. SNCC organizers Bernard and Colia Lafayette set up Citizenship Schools, teaching people to pass literacy tests to get registered. Later that year Worth Long became the Director of the Central Alabama Voter Education Project for SNCC. "When they didn't have me in jail, I coordinated a staff of 8 people," Worth said.
In Selma, SNCC and DCVL began having regular mass meetings. They set up "Freedom Houses", where local high school and college students picked up literature, and knocked on doors to encourage people to register. Sheriff Jim Clark and the KKK targeted people who tried to register with arrest, and beatings. In the early 1960's, in Dallas County, only 130 blacks were registered out of the 15,000 eligible black voters; and in nearby Lowndes and Wilcox counties, virtually no blacks were on the voting rolls.
So the groundwork had already been laid when King came to Selma. In the movie, King and his staff suggest SNCC was unsuccessful based on actual numbers registered. In actuality, SNCC and DCLV built an organized base, and it was because of this base that King and SCLC were able to mobilize successfully.
Dr. King took the voter rights campaign to a higher level of attention, attracting whites and other people from around the world as only he could do. But SNCC and the local people endured and were the vanguard of the struggle. SNCC Chairman John Lewis (now Congressman, from Atlanta) led the first attempt to march from Selma to Montgomery on "Bloody Sunday".
SNCC opted out of the March, allowing individuals like Lewis to subsequently march with King. Thousands of people poured into Selma, angered by the violence televised about Bloody Sunday. SNCC focused on Montgomery, initially with Tuskegee college students, to increase the pressure for federal intervention.

Montgomery
At one point, with SNCC numbers growing each day behind the barricades erected by the police and the cowboys to keep us hemmed in at Jackson and High Streets, Dr. King left the march on the highway and came to Montgomery. In my book, Unfinished Agenda, Urban Politics in the Era of Black Power, I explained what happened when King joined us behind the barricades:
...With King at the head of the procession, the police moved the barricades and we headed toward the Capitol. ... But King, and his entourage, slowly marched us in a circle, right back to Jackson and High Streets... Clearly, this was a move by SCLC to take the heat out of Montgomery, because the Selma march was to be the focus! .....When we turned around and went back, the cops threw peanuts at us. And after King left, we were right back behind the barricades! ...
We eventually made it off the corner, fortified by another 200-250 students from nearby Alabama State College, and community people. Those of us in the first wave were arrested at the Alabama State Capital. After a week in Kilby State Prison, some of us were bailed out, and gathered at the St. Jude complex just outside of Montgomery for the final stage of the march the next morning.
When I went back to Amherst College to graduate, I had a chance to think about my first experience with SNCC:
Montgomery was more than a sidelight to Selma... SNCC was able to get local residents, high school and college students, to stand up to white terror; tie up the city's police resources for two weeks; bring in white student support; fill the jails and Kilby State Prison (with at least three waves of arrests)... And it controlled and directed the anger of the masses.... as a release for those of us who were tired of being the only side that was non-violent.
History will credit SNCC, SCLC, CORE, NAACP and many local organizations throughout the South in many campaigns, to get the Voting Rights Act passed in 1965. Tom Hayden, co-founder of the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), told me in the spring of 1965, "With Selma, The Civil Rights Movement is over", as he recruited me to come to Newark, NJ to work on the "more complicated urban problems of race and class."
SNCC in Montgomery was a training ground in discipline, survival and how to channel anger into winning strategies through organization and confrontation. I felt ready for Newark.
--
Junius Williams is the author of the book, Unfinished Agenda, Urban Politics in the Era of Black Power (www.randomhouse.com); and the Director of the Abbott Leadership Institute, Rutgers University Newark

'Let's Go Home': The Power of Redemption (originally published in the Huffington Post)









http://www.huffingtonpost.com/junius-williams/lets-go-home-the-power-of-redemption_b_7177556.html


I watched CNN almost exclusively for the news about the first day of the Baltimore uprisings, knowing that the other channels would probably be worse. And on it came: the condemnation of the Mayor (who incidentally was black and female), suggesting how weak she was for holding back the police; the labeling of the young people in rebellion as "thugs"; the slightly veiled damnation of the black community for burning down its own neighborhood, with particular sympathy for the CVS store that was burned and looted.


I write not in defense of riots. They're awful, destructive, acts of hopeless people who don't think very much of their future. But I am writing to note that there were a lot more people out on the street at the height of the violence who were literally fighting with their neighbors and family members, telling them to "Go home" and "Stop burning down your own neighborhood!"


Slowly, by the second day, the cameras focused on some of these people: the mother who beat her child all the way home, and gave a brilliant interview of why she did it but also, what it's like to live in Baltimore. CNN focused on the young men who were trying to calm the streets, including breaking up a fight between two boys who were apparently from different gangs.


"There are longstanding beefs amongst the people, before the riot occurred", the newsman sympathetically explained. They interviewed a preacher who held his head up; a state senator who called for justice. They let us see some of parents, community workers and others who confronted the police and the rioters to control the crowds that day, and will do so tomorrow just as eagerly.
So despite the violence, which the Baltimore Police Department alone would not have been able to stop the first day because they were overwhelmed by the numbers of people on the rampage, and the widespread nature of the destruction, maybe it was a good idea that the mayor didn't turn loose the cops to beat heads as was done in so many cities recently, and in days of yore?


When CNN and other media outlets tells the narrative in a way that ignores these acts of redemptive non-violence, (including the action by the mayor) it justifies more violence by the police forces, who always have the preponderance of force on their side, and the authority to use it. When the narrative unfolds that way, it blocks the ugly truth about the American dream: it just doesn't apply to the residents in West Baltimore, and neighborhoods like it across the country.


On the Amy Goodman Pacifica news broadcast the morning after the riot, Rev. Jesse Jackson pointed out Baltimore has 18000 vacant homes, caused by the mortgage get-rich schemes that caused the Great Depression of 2008 and the loss of homes for thousands of residents. The unemployment rate is 30 percent amongst young blacks. There were 111 cases of police violence that led to court judgments or settlements between 2011 and 2014, alone. You just don't get this picture when you allow pundits and leaders to get on television and call the rioters "thugs"... which simply justifies more violence, more oppression and more responses based on rage.


Lost in that kind of single-minded blame analysis is the evidence of privilege and power that are held by some, and the abject poverty and powerlessness of others, which is the story that must be told if America is to ever back away from the precipice of death and destruction. Lost is the lesson of the historic role that black people have always played in times like these, when ordinary people do extraordinary things to keep the peace, thus backing off the agents of terror and destruction just by their sheer will to get the job done.

The little people of Baltimore -- the mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers -- are the people who stopped a second night of terror from being unleashed on their neighborhoods, this time by the overwhelming superiority of force amassed by the police, locked and loaded for offense.
It is this homegrown leadership that was finally given the audience and appreciation it deserves by some news outlets on the second day. It was a message of hope that was beyond comprehension of some the young rioters, but that people made stick up on the wall just by their will power. These leaders now have a right to say, "We're doing our share, America. What about you?"
It is from this positioning on the moral high ground that longstanding Movements for social justice have been born and perpetuated in America, with particular reference to the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s. Let us hope that the majority of the country will listen, and begins first to insist on curbing the indiscriminant power of the combined police forces in the country; and that racism and poverty begin to be alleviated by government created jobs, real school reform, and social services for the people like those in Baltimore.
--
Junius Williams is the author of the book, Unfinished Agenda, Urban Politics in the Era of Black Power (www.randomhouse.com) and the Director of the Abbott Leadership Institute, Rutgers University Newark