Unity
After watching Nashville, Los Angeles, and Philadelphia burn on the news, I prayed Mobile wouldn't be next.
At 2:00 this afternoon, an hour before the start of the protest at Mardi Gras Park, the Cathedral bells chimed as a young man walked across Cathedral Square wearing his graduation cap and gown to make pictures in front of the fountain. Everyone dining at Spot of Tea clapped for the high school senior who will be going to Georgia Southern to major in engineering in the Fall. His mother hopes he will one day return to Mobile.
It was a good start.
Walking towards the park, there were cars from North Carolina and Georgia with Black Lives Matter written on the windows. Some protestors said they have been to enough BLM rallies that they reuse the signs each time. They said they were here to make a statement.
A friend told me his own story of police brutality in 1979. He still has traumatic flashbacks to lying on the ground with police screaming and pointing guns at him. He understands how George Floyd felt begging for his life. "This is 400 years of our history," he said. "It keeps happening. Eric Gardner. Philando Castille. I hope that each death will be the last, but it never is. This has to stop."
At the protest, white hands held signs that read: "How many black people must die before it's worth your time?" "Silence is acceptance." " I will never understand that I will never understand! However, here I stand!!" "Dear white people, let's be on the right side of history for a change." "The way to right the wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them."
Black hands held signs that read: "Not black vs. white, but everyone vs. racism and corruption." "Black skin is not a probable cause." "Am I next?" "My son matters. My kids matter. Stop killing us." "May God bless all lives." "We have to do better."
The rally gathered under the statue of King Felix III, his imperial majesty first crowned in 1872 by the Mobile Carnival Association. From behind masks, protestors chanted "Say My Name." "No justice no peace." And "I can't breathe." Some wrote "I can't breathe" across their masks.
During a chant of "Black lives matter," a woman near us shouted, "Look at all of the white people here today. Thank you for coming out here. All lives matter." The chant changed to "Black lives matter. All lives matter."
Police Chief Lawrence Battiste led the march to Royal Street. Volunteers handed out water and masks to keep marchers hydrated and safe, but there was no social distancing.
As thousands marched down Dauphin Street, the mood tensed as it passed two bikers watching from the side. Some yelled for them to join in. One marcher was told, "all of you need to sit down." The marcher replied, "This would stop if the cops started killing white guys. Then you would understand and take action." Police on horses and on foot were stationed around the rest of the bikers to prevent problems from either side.
Before the Silent Vigil in Cathedral Square, the music of Congo drums was overshadowed by word spreading about police using tear gas to stop protesters around I-10. Mayor Stimpson and Chief Battiste later talked with the crowd in Mardi Gras Park to listen and answer questions.
The Silent Vigil was presented by Kimberly and Jordan Pettway and the Ladies of the Sister's Love Circle. They read the account of the arrest of George Floyd, then led the crowd in counting each second that George Floyd was held down by the "defendants knee." After the names of Floyd and other victims were read. Kimberly Pettway said, "I pray you walk away committed to the fight. There is no fight won In America without the collective. Let's all join in this fight. This should not be in the 21st century. Let's make sure it doesn't go into the 22nd."
David Thomas wrote this Facebook post about today: "I am a native Mobilian. My family has lived here since 1832, some enslaved and some were free. Mobile has always been unique when it comes to race relations, more passive than aggressive; it didn't push back like Birmingham and Montgomery, nor did it totally give in to continued laws of Jim Crowe. Mobile has always struggled to have the courageous conversation about race, frequent platitudes, tacit references, and sustain that which feels safe, not threatens that status quo. But today I saw a different Mobile; a Mobile that gave hope for unity. The peaceful march and rally consisted of an equal number of Blacks as well as Whites, and others; not the usual faces who show up to smile for the camera, but regular ordinary people who seemed to earnestly care and want to make a difference. I can only hope what I saw today is an indication of days to come. I am delighted that my children saw a glimpse of a Mobile that they would want to live in. Hopefully, I can truly say one day soon this is not my father's Old Mobile.”
What happens next? How do we take action and build on this unity to help create a city where all people are safe? A city where all people can freely breathe.
(It's after midnight and there are reports about arrests, shots fired, and windows broken out on Beltline. Praying for Mobile.)
