Black Lives Matter: continuing the Long Walk to Freedom

Back in 2004, I was privileged to be speaking at the first regional congress of social psychiatry, organised by the World Association for Social Psychiatry in Johannesburg, South Africa. It was the first time I had been to South Africa, and as well as attending the conference, I was keen to also explore some of the historic sites that I had heard about as a young man, more of which later. It’s fair to say that one of the two papers my colleague and I presented didn’t go down well with the conference delegates. It was a paper that looked at the early mother-daughter relationships as experienced by women who self-harmed. Indeed, the question section was very hostile and confrontational. The reaction wasn’t about the research methodology, analysis or authenticity of our results, but on the subject focus itself. It appeared that the pain of womenhood experienced by the study’s participants wasn’t what the conference delegates wanted to hear; perhaps reflecting the status of women in the world of psychiatry at the time. However, it was something I found strange given the conference was focused on social psychiatry, and stranger still (but maybe not so), we have never been invited back.

So, there was lots of time to actually go out and take in the sights. We hired a taxi driver who took us to all the famous sights of this sprawling city. One of which was to see where Nelson Mandela had lived. His former home is now a museum and although a tiny little house, the tour of the rooms was accompanied by a rich history of his time there. I sat on his bed, which was a very surreal experience. As was standing at the memorial to those killed in the 1976 Soweto Uprising. The latter was sparked by the law that required all black South African school children to be taught half of the time in Afrikaans and half in English – Afrikaans was thought to be the language of the oppressor. On 16th June, around 15,000 children walked from their schools to the Orlando Stadium for a mass protest rally. The police set a specially trained dog on the young people, who managed to kill it. The police then opened fire with live rounds into the crowds of children and young people. 23 people were killed and many more were injured.

One of the first to be killed was Hector Peterson, aged just 12 years old. A picture of him being carried away moments after he was shot, and taken by the South African photographer, Sam Nzima, became the iconic image of the uprising. Much later Time magazine claimed it was one of the 100 most influential images of all time. Sadly, this week we have seen other similar challenging images from across the water in the US following the death on 25th May of George Floyd, an unarmed black man already in handcuffs, after a white policeman knelt on his neck for over nine minutes.

His death has sparked mass protests across the world in recognition of not only the awfulness of his death, but also in acknowledging that racism and oppression are still as virulent globally now as they were way back in 1970s Johannesburg. I have not joined in the protests, but I share the outrage and outcry over what George Floyd’s death represents. Whilst this blog is not the place to explore some of these important issues, I have struggled at times with some of the narratives, more specifically I think, some of words used to convey people’s anger and concern. Like pictures, words are important.

Way back in the 1970s, it was the words of Angela Davis that captured my attention over the degree of oppression and racism experienced by many African-Americans. Her book: If They Come in the Morning was first published in 1970. It was on my bookshelf until last year, when I downsized and had to reduce the number of books in my library. It is a classic work written by someone I considered to have a powerful voice in championing black rights and radicalism. The book has not lost any of its prescience or power in the intervening years since it was first published. It can still be bought (yes try Amazon), and it is worth reading.

It tells the story of her trial and imprisonment following the so-called Marin County Courthouse Rebellion. It is one of those stories that feels like a great work of fiction, but the events told are real and still challenge our sensibilities even today. Indeed, one of those caught up in the events of that day is still in prison. Ruchell Magee, is said to be the longest political prisoner in the world. Despite having helped many other inmates over the years to mount appeals and gain justice, he has never been able to secure parole and remains incarcerated. He has been in prison since 1963, when he was originally given a prison sentence for attempting to steal $10. Black Lives Matter, All Lives Matter, Ruchell Magee’s Life Matters.  

George Floyd was suspected of using a counterfeit $20 bill in a nearby grocery store.   

I have used more images than normal in this week’s blog – partly because as I have been thinking and writing this blog, I have come to a point where I think at this time, I can’t find the words to express what I feel, and others have used images to more powerfully evoke what many of us have been feeling. The word ‘photograph’ actually means ‘light writing’. As a really good example of this, and one which actually does use words as well, have a look at this work of Jammie Holmes. He is a US artist who used George Floyd’s last words in a very unique, powerful and poignant way.

Likewise, Banksy has produced a different type of image that I think many of us will recognise and share the feelings behind it.

However, it is the words of Barack Obama that I will use to end this blog:

‘I recognise that these past few months have been hard and dispiriting - that the fear, sorrow, uncertainty and hardship of a pandemic have been compounded by tragic reminders that prejudice and inequality still shape so much of American life. But watching the heightened activism of young people in recent weeks, of every race and every station, makes me hopeful. If going forward, we can channel our justifiable anger into peaceful, sustained and effective action, then this moment can be a real turning point in our nation's long journey to live up to our highest ideals. Lets get to work’