From September, 1965, until July, 1967, I attended The Chicago Theological Seminary and lived on the South Side of Chicago. During that period we participated in numerous civil rights marches and numerous anti-war demonstrations. At every one of those events, I was outside my neighbourhood and, in many cases I was in a different city. I was one of the many, many outside agitators. And I'd do it again.
On the civil rights front, our seminary was a hotbed for activism. We were a de facto base for Martin Luther King's civil rights activities in the summer of 1966, while Jesse Jackson was a student in the seminary (a year ahead of me). We marched in Skokie and Gage Park and other places I can't remember. I even trained to be a safety marshal on those civil rights marches. We were determined to be non-violent. We demonstrated for a break down of racial barriers in housing and jobs in particular, and we had considerable success along those lines legally and nominally (or so it seemed; I think we had far less success on the schooling front.). Yes, we lectured people about racism, but we had specific, achievable goals as well.
On the anti-war front, we traveled to Washington DC for an antiwar demonstration (only about 25,000 in total) in the spring of 1966, and we traveled to New York for a massive march against the war (hundreds of thousands) in the spring of 1967.
Also in Chicago at the same time, there were race riots, especially on the west side. We thought we understood much of the frustration of black people in Chicago and we hoped their actions would lead to more action on the housing and jobs fronts. We didn't condone the fires, looting, or the shootings, but we understood a chunk of the frustrations. That same summer, Detroit experienced devastating race riots, as did other cities.
While the two actions, marches and riots, were linked in their underlying causes, they manifested themselves very differently. King, Jackson, the SCLC, and all the civil rights demonstrations had specific goals: We may not be able to change people's minds and hearts, even though we wanted to, but we can at least make laws and practices combine toward providing more nearly equal opportunities and protections. We white people knew things had to change legally and governmentally to achieve the desired goals.
At Iowa State, from 1967 - 1971, we continued our activism, joining and participating in movements to end the war in Vietnam and to fight racism on campus.
How does that relate to today?
First, I present my background above in part, I'm sure, as virtue signaling, but also to draw what I think are some truly important contrasts between then and now.
I believe there is systemic racism. I had thought that by providing better housing, job, affirmative action, etc. policies, things had improved substantially for non-whites. I hadn't imagined the strength of the systemic racism until I saw black students cheering wildly when O.J. Simpson was found not guilty. I agreed the crown had not made its case, but their wild cheering made me realize there was a gulf to which I had been blind. I kept asking myself, "What has happened to these kids? They are cheering that he was freed because he was black, not because the crown didn't make its case." I realized I didn't understand. And I had no idea what it was I didn't understand.
Further, when I knew people were making decisions in the 2008 US election based on race, I knew there was endemic racism. It hurts. It hurts that it's there, and it hurts that it affects us all in so many ways we don't know or comprehend. And it hurts that it creates a gulf that I'm not sure we can entirely bridge.
Today's clashes remind me of the summer of 1966 but with one major exception. The protests back then had specific, achievable goals. I'm not sure what the goals of today's protests are, other than to impress upon us the extent of racism. When politicians in Canada (e.g. Stockwell Day and Doug Ford, inter alia) deny there is systemic racism in Canada, they are clearly out of touch. Ford understood it and backtracked, to his credit.
Here's a more direct goal for current protestors, then: If we haven't stopped extreme police brutality against non-whites, let's work to stop extreme police brutality. Let's limit police "qualified immunity"; let's maybe even make police pension funds liable for civil damages resulting from police brutality to create an incentive for police officers to police other officers. Let's roll back the phenomenal macho-brutalism in the police forces, and let's roll back the extreme militarism of the police forces. If police can't do these things at all, they can't do them to non-whites. My more recent Facebook postings point in these directions.
I'd like to add, "And let's have more discourse so we can try to understand each other," but that may be more pollyannaism than a real goal; I don't see it as a very successful strategy. I anticipate that the discourse that will likely emerge will be dominated by political posturing, playing the victim or race card, playing the law and order card, virtue-signaling, distortions of facts (see every headline in every media source, right or left), misuse of data, et cetera, et cetera.
I see it all the time on Facebook. Hell, I know I'm even part of it sometimes. People lash out with memes, misrepresentations, and ad hominems, et cetera, without addressing important issues fairly.
It is time for us to admit that there is systemic discrimination.
It is time for us to do what we can individually to try to overcome it in ourselves.
It is time for us engage in discussions and not arguments.
And it is time to try to address potential feasible solutions.
I'm lucky. I have friends from all over the place, politically, geographically, religiously, racially, LGBTQ-wise, etc. I am confronted by conflicting arguments and flame wars all the time. They upset me and disturb me, but I rarely unfriend or block anyone involved in these events.
And yet, they tear me apart inside.