For the last 12 months or so, America has repeatedly heard the names of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Freddie Grey, Walter Scott and so many other men and boys. What did these men and boys have in common? They were all African American. And they were all killed by police officers. For days, weeks and months, television media has kept the names of these men and boys before the viewing public by devoting hours and hours of television news coverage of protests, marches, lie-ins, hashtag campaigns and “riots” or by giving a quick 30 second snippet on a nightly news program. Not only have news programs and networks given abundant attention to the deaths of these men and boys, but protesters and advocacy groups have formed campaigns to keep the names of these men and boys before the public eye and in the public ear. (If you haven’t heard the phrase ‘Black Lives Matter’, you just don’t want to hear it!)
But what about Black women and girls who have died at the hands of over-zealous, power-hungry police officers? When was the last time you heard the name Aiyanna Jones (7 years old)? What about Tarika Wilson (26 years old)? And what about Tanisha Anderson (37 years old) or the names of too many other women and girls of color who have been killed by police officers? The media has not been as vocal in keeping the names of these (and other) women and girls in the forefront of efforts to address police brutality against people of color.
This is why there is a new movement that has been formed: Say Her Name. The mission of Say Her Name is “to call attention to police violence against Black women” AND “to offer a resource to help ensure that Black women’s stories are integrated into demands for justice, policy responses to police violence, and media representations of victims and survivors of police brutality.” (http://www.aapf.org/sayhernamereport).
You may ask, “Why is another separate campaign needed in light of Black Lives Matter?” Well…one reason is that, even though campaigns like Black Lives Matter have been effective at getting the attention of many in the media and general public, activists and advocacy groups for Black Lives Matter have not been as vigilant in keeping public attention on Black women and girls who have either been slain by or died while in the custody of police officers.
Another reason, according to Andrea Ritchie, New York civil rights attorney and coauthor of a recent report issued by the African American Policy Forum (http://www.aapf.org/) on black women and law enforcement, is that Black women and girls face risks not shared by men, such as sexual violence and sexual harassment from law enforcement.
This is not to say that only Black women are the victims of police violence. But in this age of 24 hour news coverage and cell phone cameras, I’d bet the farm that if this abuse were being perpetrated in mass numbers against White women, (or White men for that matter), we would see the news reports and the cell phone videos. The fact that we are not seeing this is highly suggestive, (at least in my mind), that the incidences of police violence and brutality against White women are not as numerous as those of Black women.
The names of Black women and girls need to be heard in the fight for racial-social justice. Someone needs to say their names. (Which leads to my next point:) Where are communities of faith? Where is the Church in all of this? Why has the Church failed to follow the instructions of Isaiah 58:1 to “Cry aloud and spare not”? Isn’t the Church supposed to “lift up its voice like a trumpet and show the people their transgressions”? The tendency of women to be relegated to the status of second class citizens did not just start in the 21st century. In fact, this practice can be seen in mainstream religions and faith traditions that have been built on (or over) a foundation of disregard (and what sometimes appears to be disdain) for women. Is it something about our faith traditions that has caused us to subconsciously neglect to stand up for oppressed and abused Black women and girls?
In her book Battered Love, minister and old testament scholar, Rev. Dr. Renita J. Reems gives an insightful look at the writings of such prophets as Hosea, Jeremiah and Ezekiel who used images of male power and abuse against women (specifically righteous husbands against wives who were often characterized as lusty, depraved and defiled).
True… these images were symbolic of the punishment and judgement that would justifiably be measured out on the people of God for their disobedience and sins against God. And also true… Reems’ book explores the use of marriage as a metaphor of the relationship between God and God’s people. But there’s an argument to be made that this disregard for women went beyond marriage.
Remember Lot, who was willing to sacrifice the dignity and lives of his daughters to a group of angry men so that his male house guests would not be harmed? Yeah…we have a tendency to focus only on the horrors that the male house guests would have endured and we gloss over the fact that Lot’s daughters were going to be raped. (And by the way, what were Lot’s daughters’ names??)
In the Bible, women were often referred to by their relationships to husbands and sons. (Does anyone know Potiphar’s wife’s name? What about the widow at Zarephath? This poor woman couldn’t even get a name of her own after her husband died. And how about Peter’s mother-in-law?) This is not to say that women were never identified by a name because some were. But the overall cultures that gave birth to the sacred biblical texts do not appear to have been very female friendly. This disregard can still be seen in communities of faith in the 21st century.
Many communities of faith have remained eerily quiet when it comes to the death, violence and abuse being inflicted by police on women, particularly women of color. Could it be that the Church’s silence is rooted in the very text we claim as sacred, liberating and redemptive? Have people of faith in the 21st century subconsciously embraced a culture that demeans and belittles women and girls based on doctrines that grew out of cultures that often appeared to be less than loving toward women and girls? (Is misogyny too strong of a word to use? Hmmm…)
There is absolutely no excuse for communities of faith to remain silent on the issues of abuse and violence faced by Black women and girls. Women and girls are vital parts of communities of faith. If not for them, many communities of faith would not be able to survive. And predominantly Black churches should be among the first to champion the cause. It’s time for us to stand up for women in general, and Black women and girls in particular. It’s time for us to “Say Her Name.”
…Unfortunately and with heartbreak, we now say the name Sandra Bland…
#SayHerName #WhatHappenedToSandraBland
Share This:
