Reflecting on a Weekend of Resistance in Ferguson, Missouri

This past weekend, a group of Harvard students from the law school, Kennedy School of government, divinity school, and education school headed to St. Louis and Ferguson to support the local community and organizers for their “Weekend of Resistance.” Below are some collective reflections on the inspiring and terrifying state response we witnessed.

This weekend we traveled to Missouri for the Weekend of Resistance in response to the killing of Mike Brown over the summer. The most striking feature of the weekend was the contrast between the commitment, discipline, and love of the protesters and the threatening and violent nature of law enforcement in Ferguson and St. Louis.

All weekend, we witnessed how the killing by the police of Michael Brown was bringing together racial justice advocates around the country. The organizers had brought the community and its allies together with powerful stories demonstrating the urgent need for action. As leaders from around the country stated, and what attracted many of us to engage in the weekend of resistance, was the need for a powerful, community-led, grassroots movement for racial justice, police accountability, criminal justice reform, and economic justice.

But on our final night in St. Louis, young community members spoke about how the fight in Ferguson was more urgent than a worthy cause for many members of the community here – it was a matter of life or death. That night – enraptured by the hope, rage, energy, passion, and commitment of these young leaders – we would all follow them in solidarity. That night, actions encapsulated the deep trust that has developed there. Those marching had no idea what was planned. We had no idea where we were marching. We had no idea what would happen while we were marching. But we trusted them and all believed deeply in the struggle they were fighting for, so we followed them.

We marched for almost an hour, in silence, at the request of the organizers, side-by-side. People of all ages, statuses, and colors marched together. We stood at the bottom of a hill and watched as more and more supporters joined. It was a misty, dark, eerie night, and we walked tightly as a group across a bridge towards St. Louis University. Everyone had their own reasons for being there, but we were united by the fact that all of us cared deeply about one cause, believed passionately in the value of all human lives, and believed that the community and it allies, standing side-by-side, could change the unjust reality here. We felt a collective sense, an empowering sense, and continued to march fully trusting and hopeful of the power of the group.

As we reached the middle of the bridge, we saw lines of police dressed in riot gear with their batons out. They stood side-by-side blocking the bridge and steadily beating their batons against their boots and the road – challenging the group to continue approaching, trying to intimidate us into breaking rank. The violence of this collective act of police officers cannot be understated. The image was reminiscent of the scene facing civil rights protesters marching from Selma to Montgomery. The hate was palpable; we could feel it flowing from every clack of a baton against a riot shield. The nearly all white police force was getting ready to face off against a group of peaceful, largely Black protesters.

The group, walking on the sidewalk in peace, approached the line of officers. The policemen screamed “keep back! keep back!” but we kept moving until we could go no further. Legal observers, religious leaders, and the press were moved to the front to protect the family of the deceased and a line was drawn. The officers refused to respond to requests to speak to a commanding officer. It was an inhuman experience – and yet we felt a sort of determined calm. We felt full trust in our community leaders and trust in each other. The trust didn’t just come from the safety of numbers – we knew that everyone would keep each other safe, as much as possible. Someone yelled “they’re gonna use the gas!” and started sharing vinegar with everyone around her, instructing about the best ways to minimize your exposure. Finally, the commanding officer ordered the police to let us pass. It was an incredibly powerful moment – powerful in the force and inhumanity the state and its law enforcement was prepared to meet peaceful protesters with, and powerful in the feeling of trust and love created by the movement many of us had been welcomed into only a few days earlier. We continued marching until we reached St. Louis University and only then did people celebrate the act of community power that had just occurred.

Local and national media did not cover this moment of community power in the face of what can only be described as oppressive and threatening police tactics. In fact, all weekend the media failed to capture the reality of the situation on the ground – portraying each action taken by the police as a response to an action by protesters when in reality protesters stood disciplined and peaceful in the face of violent and menacing police tactics. We witnessed firsthand how the media’s attempts at “neutrality” were in fact clearly biased in favor of state policies and tactics. This showed us again the importance of being in Ferguson, if only to learn the reality of oppression there -- and what that means for the oppression and structural inequality that infects the entire country.

In conclusion, our entire weekend can best be encapsulated in two important ideas. First – it was awesome, in the awe-inspiring and terrifying sense of the word. Second – it demonstrated the importance of showing up. Organizers repeatedly told allies that the most helpful thing they could do was to show up with them in the streets night after night side-by-side to delegitimize the oppression of law enforcement and support those marginalized communities currently being targeted by racist and oppressive police tactics. This idea of showing up, speaking out, taking action, and recognizing the politics in all our decisions was best encapsulated by a quote hung at the “Stand Up, Don’t Shoot” rally in St. Louis on Saturday: “When injustice becomes law – resistance becomes duty.” It became abundantly clear that showing up can be hard, it can be scary. But it also can be inspiring, and fun.

There are many ways you can be involved in work related to Ferguson and general organizing and action around racial injustice and police brutality. For starters – BLSA has organized events and projects led by students at the law school to get involved in. Black Lives Matter, a community organizing group in Boston will be hosting an action on Newbury St. on Saturday October 25^th and we urge everyone to join us at the action. The bail fund in Ferguson is also in need of money – as police continue to arrest and detain peaceful protesters for high bail amounts. Donate money at: https://secure.piryx.com/donate/mS25KFCe/MORE/mikebrown. We’ll also be providing other support to local organizers and hope you’ll be in touch if you want to support these efforts. Staying aware is also important, and as we learned witnessing the misinformation being reported by traditional media, this may require becoming aware through less traditional media and from youth leaders directly through Twitter.

Thank you so much for reading, learning, and hopefully taking action. It is only when we all recognize the injustice of our current system, and our own complicity in our inaction, that real change will come for marginalized communities across the country.