For we
do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against
the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present
darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.
- Ephesians 6:12, ESV
Without having prior knowledge of the
murder of Oscar Grant, I saw Fruitvale
Station almost two weeks after the Zimmerman verdict. Watching this film as an African American
male who was already distraught about the outcome of the trial, I experienced
several emotions as I witnessed director Ryan Coogler’s depiction of the final
day of Grant’s life. There was some joy
in seeing how he sought to love his family and friends, as well as how he was
willing to help strangers who crossed his path.
I was also enthused by this young man’s attempts to change his life
around from a past of crime for himself and for his girlfriend and daughter. Yet from the very beginning of the film, these
emotions were constantly overshadowed by the thought of knowing that Oscar was
only progressing towards a murder committed by a white police officer at the
Fruitvale Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) Station. Grant, who was unarmed and under the
submission of BART police, was profiled and then executed as a result. For me, this thought served as a constant
reminder that black women and men are never safe from acts of racism invading
their everyday lives, including those that are unto death. Moreover, it helped to solidify what had
become even more real with the murder of Trayvon Martin—racism has not left
American society no matter how much we have supposedly tried to overcome it.
In
Faces at the Bottom of the Well: The Permanence of Racism, the late law
professor Derrick Bell argues that racism is, indeed, “a permanent part of the
American landscape” (Bell 92). Although
many people—specifically advocates for civil rights—would like to turn to laws
and practices as proof that race-based injustice has been eroding in our
country, the problem has not gone away (59-60, 93). In fact, any effort to eradicate or constrain
it has often produced a cyclical manifestation of it in another form of
oppression according to the work of Bell (97, 98). Origins of this “racial realist” thought lie
in the idea that civil rights advancements in particular have not led black
people in general to a place where they can they can experience progression in
their social environment, economic conditions and, as we can see in the cases
of Oscar and Trayvon, in their inherent constitutional rights such as justice
(97-99).
As Wanda Johnson, mother of Oscar Grant, expresses after her son’s murderer was found guilty of a lesser charge of involuntary manslaughter, there is still a need for African Americans to “fight for our equal rights in this society” (“!!REACTION…VERDICT!!”; “‘Fruitvale…2013)”). Moreover, she expresses a dream that echoes the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in which she hopes for a day when “a nation of people” would no longer “look at us according to the color or content of our skin” (“!!REACTION...VERDICT!!”; Bell 20, 60-61). However, what is even more stressed in her address is a need to trust in God as the ultimate judge, especially considering how an earthly judicial system has failed her and other black people before and after her. Also in this spiritual vein, it is in her closing remarks where Johnson attributes the severity of the battle which claimed her son to be one that is beyond natural operations of this world and one that can be won through Jesus Christ as the “Deliverer” who will bestow upon her people worth and equality in society (“!!REACTION”). As we can gather, Johnson evokes a meaningful call to action and even utilizes symbols and dreams as a means to maintain faith for better living; however, are these practices what we must do in order to see these hopes come to pass in the present age (23)? Is it even possible to see them come to pass if racism is an everlasting fragment of American life?
In Bell’s epilogue he finds that, in a
manner like the enslaved ancestors, black people must wrestle within what seems
to be a paradox. They must “fashion a
philosophy that both matches the unique dangers we face, and enables us to
recognize in those dangers opportunities for committed living and humane
service” (Bell 195). Similar to the
claim in which Grant’s mother argues, black people must find a way to maintain
a sense of humanity and even faith in the midst of the suffering while also
knowing that this suffering is “not the extent of their destiny—or of the
destiny of those who would follow them” (195).
This focus leads them to know that this suffering is worth resisting as
best as possible (195, 199). For me,
this imperative, however, seems hopeful yet problematic.
“!!REACTION FROM OSCAR GRANT'S MOTHER TO
VERDICT!!” YouTube video, 2:39. November 4, 2013. http://www.youtube.com/watchv=JbfOKPKada4&list=
FLiZGC8opoiGNyMBV7eEvibA.
Bell, Derrick. Faces at the Bottom of the Well: The Permanence of Racism. New York, Basic Books, 1992.
Donny Hathaway. “Someday We’ll All Be Free.” By Donny Hathaway and Edward Howard. Extension
of a Man, Rhino R 66887, 1973, 7”.
"Donny Hathaway - Someday We'll All
Be Free." YouTube video, 4:08. November 4, 2013. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv1B0ejhFVE&list=FLiZGC8opoiGNyMBV7eEvibA.
Fruitvale
Station. Directed by Ryan Coogler. USA, The Weinstein
Company, 2013. Film.
“‘Fruitvale Station’ Oscar Grant's last
day, Director Ryan Coogler interview (July 26, 2013).” YouTube video, 6:59. November 4, 2013. http://www.youtube.com/watchv=gpZENHUzSYI&list=
FLiZGC8opoiGNyMBV7eEvibA