As January came to a close, Memphis PD released the horrific video of the Tyre Nichols beating to the public after firing 5 police officers featured in the video. A sixth officer was fired this past week. As reactions and commentary flooded social media, I made it a point to not view the video. I am one of those people that doesn’t believe in watching Black death. Hearing the details as more and more people watched the video I started to cry. I felt hopeless. The abject cruelty of the beating coupled with the indifference in the aftermath of the violence was too devastating. The incident itself had been on my mind this past week but I want to posture myself with others on social media that hope to uplift Tyre Nichols as he was, in his joyful moments. Photos flooded social media of Nichols’ skating, spending time with his family, laughing, and smiling. While mourning Nichols’ death, recently released pictures have captured his life, his humanity, and his radiance. Looking at him it felt like I knew him. Each photo showed his warmth, his Blackness, and the kindness every human heart is capable of. For me it brought to mind a quote by James Baldwin when he knew he wanted to return to Harlem from France,
“But I missed my brothers, and my sister, and my mother. [...] I missed Harlem Sunday mornings, and fried chicken, and biscuits, I missed the music, I missed the style. That style possessed by no other people in the world. I missed the way the dark face closes, the way dark eyes watch, and the way when a dark face opens, a light seems to go everywhere.”
There’s something familiar about Tyre’s smile. It’s the same smile Baldwin describes as light in his quote. It’s the same smile my brother, father, grandfather, cousin and male friends have. It centers the tragedy of the violence that took his life while also reminding us that this Black history month is also a time to celebrate each other. It is a time to celebrate how far we’ve come, celebrate those who fought and toiled for all that we have now, and celebrate that our past victories provide a blueprint for triumph over the injustices we currently face.
As we as a community are currently going through a period of grief, as we are faced with threats of erasure and brutalization, my hope is that this newsletter is a reminder to make space for joy this Black history month. Make space to champion those we have lost in their joyful moments instead of allowing falsities and defamatory allegations to stand in for their personhood. Make space for joy by promoting the work of current activists, leaders, and thinkers that deserve our support during this dark time. In order to maintain oppressive and unjust systems, it is a necessity that the viciousness with which the system operates forces the majority to shutter and turn away. It is for this reason I believe choosing to champion Black voices and Black people experiencing joy despite persecution is a revolutionary act. Regardless of race, creed, or orientation, this Black history month calls on us to mourn with those who mourn, weep with those who weep, and heal the brokenhearted.
Rest In Power Tyre Nichols
References
Baldwin, J., & Peck, R. (2017). I am not your Negro: A companion edition to the documentary film directed by Raoul Peck. Vintage.