Images of Tyre Nichols’ lethal beating won’t bring change
In the mid-1950s, Claudette Colvin got on a bus in Montgomery, Ala., to go home after school. Claudette, who was 15 years old at the time, boarded the bus with three of her friends. As the law required at the time, the group sat in the section of the bus marked for “coloreds.”
As the bus traveled on, it began to fill up. People getting off of work in downtown Montgomery were getting on. Soon, it became apparent that there would not be enough seats for some white passengers.
When no seats were available, and passengers were standing in the aisle, the bus driver told Claudette and her friends to give up their seats to a white passenger. Claudette refused.
The bus went on through three more stops. Then, two policemen got onto the bus. One of them asked the driver, “Who is it?” They approached Claudette and stood over her.
The officers proceeded to yank Claudette out of her seat, sending her schoolbooks flying. They dragged her off the bus. One officer kicked her. She was arrested because of her refusal to give up her seat and taken — though she was a minor — to the adult jail.
You may not have heard of Claudette Colvin. However, I’m sure you have heard of Rosa Parks. “The first lady of civil rights” and “the mother of the freedom movement” are just some of the titles bestowed upon Parks.
The thing is, Claudette refused to give up her seat nine months before Parks did. Claudette was arrested March 2, 1955. Parks was arrested Dec. 1, 1955. There is a reason you haven’t heard of Claudette Colvin that may surprise you.
The head of the Montgomery chapter of the NAACP at the time, E.D. Nixon, heard of little Claudette’s arrest and arranged for a young (now legendary) attorney named Fred Gray to represent her. The plan was to use Claudette’s arrest and manhandling by the police as a flashpoint to spark protests, including a boycott of the bus lines.
However, the plan was canceled when Nixon discovered that 15-year-old Claudette was pregnant. She said it was the result of statutory rape. Regardless of the circumstances, it was believed that conservative church-goers would not get behind a movement sparked by a pregnant minor. In other words, because some would view her as immoral, Claudette wasn’t the right “package” to present to the public as the face of the civil rights movement.
Rosa Parks, however, was the right package. She was older (42 at the time of her arrest). She was married. She had a job (a seamstress by trade). She was also already active in the movement. She was the secretary of the Montgomery chapter of the NAACP. When Parks refused to give up her seat and was arrested, the rest, as they say, is history.
I don’t recite any of this to discredit Rosa Parks. The point is not the result. The point is the why.
Civil rights leaders in Montgomery were trying to start something. They were trying to start a movement with the intent of fundamentally changing a system. These leaders knew that, as with all movements, their movement would require a symbol.
They decided that Claudette Colvin could not be that symbol because she had an obvious “flaw,” her pregnancy. Symbols need to generate broad-based appeal. A young, pregnant Black girl wouldn’t do that.
I imagine that those leaders thought people would do then what people do now when they see young, pregnant Black girls: They judge rather than help. “Why is she having sex at her age? She clearly makes bad decisions. And where is the father? And where is her father?”
A troubled child could not be the symbol for a movement. What was needed was someone who lacked any obvious flaws. Someone more palatable, whom people would readily determine to be a good person deserving of their support. Enter hard-working seamstress Rosa Parks who, after a long and tiring day of work, refused to give up her seat on the bus. A symbol is born.
Sidenote: Parks specifically denied refusing to give up her seat because she was tired. In her words, “(T)he only tired I was, was tired of giving in.”
There are other instances of civil rights leaders picking people or groups to operate as symbols to galvanize support for the civil rights movement. The Children’s Crusade of 1963 is another example. You should look that one up for yourself. Honor Black History Month.
I just watched the videos of Tyre Nichols being beaten to death by officers of the Memphis Police Department. I understand if you don’t want to. The footage is, at times, gut-wrenching, anger-inducing and heartbreaking.
As I watched the videos, I wondered how many more times must something like this occur before something really changes. Sandra Bland. Breonna Taylor. George Floyd. Michael Brown. Walter Scott. Freddie Gray. Kathryn Johnston. Oscar Grant. Botham Jean. Atatiana Jefferson. Timothy Russell. Malissa Williams. Tamir Rice. Jayland Walker. The list can go on. And remember, these are the ones who died at the hands of police. There are many more who have been injured by police whose stories are never told.
Then I thought about symbols. The civil rights movement had symbols. The movement for criminal justice reform doesn’t really have symbols. The criminal justice reform movement has a list of the dead, but it doesn’t have symbols.
The key difference is the ability to choose representatives. Unlike civil rights leaders, leaders in the criminal justice reform movement can’t pick and choose who their symbols will be. They can’t choose who will be the next Sandra Bland or George Floyd or Tyre Nichols. A life is taken, then the movement shows up.
And even though the general public may know some of the names I listed, many can cite the “flaws” of each of those named individuals. Noncompliance is the “flaw” many readily name. And in each and every instance of a person killed by police, the presumption many have is that the person must have done something wrong if the police are there in the first place. This presumed “flaw” of each person killed by a police officer is baked into the system. Call it a “police bias.” It transcends political ideologies. Even the most liberal of liberals will wonder in the secret part of their mind, “What did he or she do?”
Given this inability to pre-select symbols, I wonder what hope we really have for substantive change. The criminal justice reform movement is seeking to fundamentally change a system. History says such a movement needs a symbol. But history also says that symbol needs to be essentially unassailable.
The criminal justice reform movement needs someone more palatable. Someone whom people would readily determine to be a good person deserving of their support. Maybe what the criminal justice reform movement needs is … someone white.
Maybe if America saw footage of a white person being beaten to death by police, something might change. Perhaps if Americans saw footage of a white person being choked to death, or shot in the back, or discovered dead with an unexplained broken neck, something might change.
But again, the problem is that the movement can’t choose. It just has to happen. A life must be taken, then the movement can show up.
The movement has to wait for police to do to white people what they do to Black people. Then maybe something will change. Maybe then, a symbol that generates broad-based appeal can emerge.
I won’t hold my breath.