The Path of Resistance

The “master narrative” of Civil Rights history suffers on several accounts, but pivotally in its centering of nonviolence as the ultimate way of gaining power and equality. This is the critical issue at hand between the old and new tellings of Civil Rights history, this oversaturated conversation around one form of protest, rather than an acknowledgment of the multiplicity of ways one could find resistance. 

When I was working for the Center for Civil and Human Rights this summer, we would frequently take the five-minute walk downtown to explore the museum. One of the most engaging exhibits there was the lunch counter simulation, hence it was the exhibit that we interns were most hesitant to visit. For the simulation, one would sit in the high top chair and put on the headphones provided, but it would not begin until their hands were firmly placed in the designated spaces on the counter, and it would only last for as long as their hands remained stationary. 

From that moment, the simulation began, a range of slurs and demeaning words being shouted at you seemingly anywhere from right in your ear, to the very back of the room. There was the sound of glass shattering, furniture being kicked over, and maybe even people being hurt. I cannot say I remember all of the details because as someone with severe anxiety, I could not make it very far into the simulation before my eyes began to water and my head felt like it was spinning. I felt trapped in this simulation. I cannot fathom what it must be like to not have the luxury of removing your hands from the lunch counter, of that simple action concluding the experience... of it being a mere simulation.

That being said, there are many different forms of keeping your hands on the lunch counter, many different ways in which one can find resistance. Though nonviolence has often been effective in its work, the ideology behind it is not one that people of color universally and wholeheartedly support. Though the predominant white narrative is a retroactive appreciation for Dr. King and his practice of nonviolence, that has not deterred white rage at modern-day nonviolent forms of protest, such as dare I say, taking a knee on the field. This begs the question - who has the right to be angry? Disappointed? To pen the narrative? How can we all find our own path of resistance and respect that of others?