We March

Aaron and Ezra along the Dequindre Cut, June 6, 2020.

At Milliken State Park, Detroit, June 6, 2020

The first big march that I remember attending was in 1983. I had a summer job in Washington, DC,
and the parking garage I used was just off the mall. Attending the 20th Anniversary of the March on Washington was easy. That's mostly what I remember: it was easy. There was no risk. Many of the speakers that day had also been at the original event in 1963, but I confess I don't remember any of them, or even if I ever got close enough to hear them. For me, anyway, it was more of a festival event than one of risk. Civil rights that were dreams in 1963 seemed, if not yet assured, at least expected by 1983.

In 2020, my expectations have been battered. In a stunningly fast sequence, we've seen evidence of the dangers of jogging while black, sleeping while black, birding while black, and, finally, breathing while black.

The protests started almost immediately after the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis by local police was recorded by a 17-year old girl. With a pandemic that has killed more than 110,000 Americans still in progress, millions of us have determined that being counted is worth the risk. As some Federal responses have appeared to challenge the First Amendment right of the people peaceably to assemble, even labelling protestors with epithets such as "terrorists," the protests have grown in size. Several have now occurred locally, typically (but not always) organized or at least promoted by Black Lives Matter. On Friday one passed within a couple hundred yards of my house.

Rashida Tlaib addresses the audience

Saturday afternoon was a bigger day. Organized in part by a 17-year old from the Detroit suburb of Gibralter, the march started at Detroit's Eastern Market. The route followed one off Detroit's newest recreational paths, the Dequindre Cut, down to Milliken State Park along the Detroit River. The mood was part festive, and all determined. Homemade signs were everywhere, with slogans such as "Silence is Violence," "No Justice No Peace," and "Black Lives Matter." Volunteers handed out free water and snacks to those who needed, and along the route various chants would be taken up: "What's his name?" "Which one?" Or, "Hands up1" "Don't shoot!"

The park felt packed. The local papers reported it as "hundreds" of people, but it looked like at least a couple of thousand to me: young and old, and multi-colored. Was it pandemic-safe? I guess we'll find out soon. Most everyone wore a mask, at least.

There were several speakers, most notably Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib, whose weirdly gerrymandered district includes some -- but not all -- of the march route. Tlaib's short talk was fiery, including some expletives for the Detroit Police, but also this: "Don't stop marching, because when you march, they filed the charges against [the policeman who killed George Floyd]. When you march, they are now talking about taking away qualified immunity for police. When you march, they are now talking about poverty in black communities. When you march, they are now talking about, how can we reimagine being safe in our country? That doesn't mean tear gas, it doesn't mean handcuffs, it doesn't mean mass incarceration. It means love and compassion in our country. If this is not proof that we are on the right side of history, I don't know what is."