This Is Not a Game
“If it were an accident then you could correct that. If you didn’t intend it, then don’t come on this weekend and interrupt one of the most sacred holidays for black people in this state … it’s purposeful when you plan for people and not with them.”
Kevin Matthews, Chair, Tulsa Race Massacre Centennial Commission
It’s been 99 years since Greenwood, a prosperous black district in Tulsa, was destroyed in the course of just 24 hours. No one was ever charged with anything in the wake of the massacre, and no reparations have ever been made. The site of the massacre has not been placed on the National Register of Historic Monuments. The estimated 300 persons in mass graves remain to be identified and awarded a proper burial, and the city of Tulsa remains as profoundly segregated as any city of its size in the U.S.
Here’s what Tulsa has to confront this weekend: (a) a spike in Covid-19 cases statewide and a spike in Tulsa County specifically; (b) the unsought presence of nearly 20,000 Trump supporters at the BOK Center in Tulsa (which is an indoor venue not far from the Greenwood district) plus tens of thousands more (the exact numbers anticipated are still uncertain) at outdoor overflow venues beside the center (officials are saying there may be 100,000 people – about one-quarter the population of Tulsa itself); (c) the celebrations this weekend by Tulsa’s black residents (approx. 60,000) of Juneteenth, and (d) continuing demonstrations across the country in the wake of the killing of George Floyd (and more recently, of Rayshard Brooks in Atlanta a week ago).
Historian/photojournalist J. Kevin Ross:
“‘We know he is coming to divide us,’ Ross said. ‘I think Donald Trump’s visits to hot racial hotbeds around the country are obviously a direct and deliberate attempt to rally up his base. That is not needed at this time when we are dealing with unemployment. It’s the wrong time because of Juneteenth. It’s the wrong time because it’s the 99th observation of the Tulsa Massacre, and it’s the wrong time because we are in the midst of covid.’”
The Vernon AME church in Greenwood (the only church that remained standing after the massacre) will shut down this weekend and provide only “essential services” such as food provision to the hungry and spiritual services to the suffering.
In the face of the above – a suffering city, state, and nation – Governor Kevin Stitt (R) offered to provide the President a guided tour of Greenwood during his stay in Tulsa. Tulsa’s Republican Mayor, G.T. Bynum, will greet the President at the airport, but will not be attending his rally.
Efforts by local residents and business people to block the rally failed at the county and Oklahoma Supreme Court levels – and this, despite the fact that the city/state have not lifted their limits on the size of mass gatherings, and the fact that the rally – indoors, with use of masks optional – meets none of the CDC’s guidelines. Local state public health officials, who were the first to raise the alarm, had also requested that the rally be postponed.
We surveyed the mainstream press this morning for relevant articles. Consider:
“Black Tulsans, with a Defiant Juneteenth Celebration, Send a Message to Trump” (NYT)
“Black Leaders in Tulsa Are Outraged by Trump’s Planned Rally during a Pandemic”
(Washington Post)
“On Eve of Trump Visit, Tulsa Still Haunted by Memory of White Supremicist Massacre”
(The Guardian)
So, “Defiant” – “Outraged” – “Haunted.” Apparently it’s tough for the Times and the Post to find descriptors /verbs with positive (or even, neutral) connotations. And as for the use of the passive voice in two of the three headlines – well, if you accept that Tulsans have agency, perhaps you should consider giving them some in your headlines.
The Times’ reporting eventually finds its way closer to the real issue, viz. that in the past few years, Tulsa has begun to confront the Massacre and take some steps towards, ultimately, atonement (+ whatever that might entail in terms of reparations):
“… ‘racial reconciliation’ has become the city’s unofficial mantra, complete with street names and philanthropic efforts, supported by Democrats and Republicans alike. What it means, according to Hannibal Johnson, a professor of African-American history and a Tulsa historian, is a three-step process of ‘acknowledgment, apology and atonement.’ It’s a process he believes could set an example for the rest of the country. It also means something tangible, a multimillion-dollar museum and cultural center set to open in commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the massacre, in the spring of 2021.”
[Note: “acknowledgement, apology, and atonement” are processes associated with restorative justice.]
What’s wrong with that? Nothing, of course, and there lies the rub: the risk of an almost-inevitable confrontation between an estimated 100,000 Trump supporters and Tulsa’s black population, if it erupts into open conflict, could set Tulsa’s efforts towards racial reconciliation back, and that could have knock-on effects in other cities trying to acknowledge their own racist histories:
“If we can do this in this city, the same one that never acknowledged the hundreds of lives lost and hasn’t found all these graves,” he said. “If we can be a beacon of reconciliation — anybody can.” (Kevin Matthews, State Senator)
And then there’s that Friday tweet:
“‘Any protesters, anarchists, agitators, looters or lowlifes who are going to Oklahoma please understand, you will not be treated like you have been in New York, Seattle, or Minneapolis,’ Trump wrote in a tweet on Friday. ‘It will be a much different scene!’”
Apparently the Juneteenth celebrations (begun on Friday) will continue on Saturday:
“One event, organized by Unify Tulsa and taking place mere blocks from where Trump is scheduled to speak this weekend, is set for Friday and will last through Saturday in anticipation for the president’s arrival.
“‘Join us any time through the day on 6/20 as we continue to hold space and celebrate till the afternoon where we will march to remind President Trump, Governor [Kevin] Stitt, and Mayor [G.T.] Bynum that Black lives matter,’ according to the event’s description.”
The Tulsa Juneteenth celebration had originally been canceled due to the pandemic, but it was re-scheduled in light of the President’s campaign rally.
The question of whether or not to hold the Juneteenth Celebration – even after it was canceled due to Covid-19 – represents a moral dilemma to black Tulsans. If they didn’t hold the event, it would seem as if the city’s black residents had been cowed at the prospect of 100,000 Trump supporters coming to a venue near the massacre site.
But the decision to continue the celebration event (which began on Friday and drew around 30,000 people), while courageous, holds the inherent risk of confrontation(s) on Saturday.
And this is independent of the fact that the rally will almost certainly end up becoming a super-spreader event for Tulsa and the entire state of Oklahoma.
Further reading:
“Black Tulsans, with a Defiant Juneteenth Celebration, Send a Message to Trump” (NYT)
“Black Leaders in Tulsa Are Outraged by Trump’s Planned Rally during a Pandemic”
(Washington Post)
“On Eve of Trump Visit, Tulsa Still Haunted by Memory of White Supremicist Massacre”
(The Guardian)
“You’re Not Coming to Bring Us Justice. So What Are You Coming For?”