“A Vocation of Agony”
Black people, we all know what time it is… Today is Martin Luther King Day. This means that many of our racist supporting, white supremacist apologist "friends" are using this day to pacify their guilt by quoting a man who can no longer challenge their complicity because he is dead.
How Brave...
In the spirit of this occasion, I wanted to draw your attention to the following MLK quote and share how one of the phrases he used spoke to me:
“The time comes when silence is betrayal. That time has come for us today...
...some of us who have already begun to break the silence of the night have found that the calling to speak is often a vocation of agony, but we must speak.”
First, some background...
Basically, on April 4, 1967, MLK delivered a speech entitled "Beyond Vietnam," where he adamantly opposed the Vietnam War and wanted Americans to end it. In his speech, King connected the war with economic injustice, citing that the increase in military funding was taking money and resources away from antipoverty or social welfare programs. He then noted that the US's role in the war was extremely unjust because it only promoted colonialization, greed, and unnecessary violence. According to King, America needed "a true revolution of values," or their actions would lead to "spiritual death." Although I could probably spend some time discussing several topics raised by this speech, including the effectiveness of social welfare, I want to use this post to reflect on the part of MLK's speech that really stood out to me - the phrase "vocation of agony."
My vocation of agony
The Monday morning following the insurrection on Capitol Hill, my colleagues and I had an opportunity to process the events together. The following is what I expressed (paraphrased, of course):
Although I did not know when or where, I had a feeling something would happen, especially after the Democrats won Georgia. As I watched white MAGA supporters destroy the capitol in the name of God and white supremacy, I found myself having to disassociate. Instead of taking time to really explore the implications of the insurrection, I had to distract myself by laughing at memes and Instagram reels. It wasn't until the next day, when I had to cofacilitate an antiracism, diversity group, that the pain, sadness, and anger finally caught up with me. I began to realize how angry I was about my calling to be an antiracist, especially in a country hell-bent on wearing their ignorance and hatred like a badge of honor....
....To me, it often feels like we are stuck watching white people fight over "policy" while black and brown people have to standby and see how/when it will affect us, and it's exhausting. The events at Capital Hill were just another reminder of how frustrating it has been to deal with the realities of unrepentant whiteness. To make matters worse, I still had to wake up the next day and try to help white people "save themselves" in my work with antiracism…
….At the end of the day, it's getting harder to have faith in this process. Sometimes, I feel like I am just going through the motions. This is not necessarily because I long for a life devoted to antiracism, but because I feel like "if not me, then who."
As expected, my thoughts were greeted with silence and sadness. Most people don't know how to respond to the feelings of black women, and I've learned how to accept that. Although my share for a moment felt raw and awkward, it also made me realize the importance of creating space for speaking truth and admitting that being an antiracist or an organizer is extremely agonizing - even if people don't know how to respond to it. That moment combined with revisiting MLK's quote was a reminder that being "woke" (for lack of a better term) in a country that insists on living on an Ambien drip creates a state of anger and frustration that no amount of faith, hope, or love can immune you from. And you know what? That's okay... All we can do for ourselves is pause, acknowledge the pain, practice self-care, and cautiously move forward.
So, today, as we remember the life and ministry of MLK, I invite those of you who are in the trenches (especially black people) to pause... acknowledge/release the pains of white supremacy, and find a way to practice self-love or self-care. For me, this looks like taking some time today to immerse myself in activities that are reminders of black love and joy (e.g., Listening to black music and watching black films).
Regarding the rest of America, I want to end my post by offering you with this…
In his speech, "Beyond Vietnam," MLK also said the following:
"The world now demands a maturity of America that we may not be able to achieve. It demands that we admit that we have been wrong from the beginning of our adventure in Vietnam, that we have been detrimental to the life of the Vietnamese people. The situation is one in which we must be ready to turn sharply from our present ways."
54 years later. Nothing has changed. Replace the terms "Vietnam" and "Vietnamese" with any "minority group" known to live in this world, and we are still waiting for you all (mainly white America) to show even an ounce of maturity. As mentioned in my previous post, Give Us Barabbas: Reflections on 45's Attempted Coup, Americans continue to double down and choose money, hatred, and evil even at the cost of losing their own lives.
Imagine a world where so many of us did not have to choose agony...
Sources:
Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence (speech delivered on April 4, 1967) by MLK, Jr.
Martin Luther King, Jr. - Threats/Attacks Against by the King Institute at Stanford University
Vietnam War by Ronald H. Spector, Encyclopædia Britannica Contributor