Love and Organizing
Bearing witness, getting the goods
By now most Americans have experienced the minor indignities of online meetings. Whatever their helpful attributes–reduced travel, greater efficiency, pants being optional–we’ve also dealt with the consistent embarrassments of virtual meetings. Important discussions get delayed when technology mysteriously doesn’t work. Home is further entrenched as a site of capitalist production and surveillance. You get annoyed at having to constantly tell someone “you’re on mute,” only to have it happen to you.
On a Monday morning just before Christmas, I joined two other neighbors (the co-directors of QC Family Tree) in a Mecklenburg County courtroom for three hours observing a protracted Zoom meeting. The morning’s docket consisted of “first appearances,” the administrative proceeding where a judge reads to a defendant the charges against them, determines whether they will be represented by themselves, a hired attorney, or a court-appointed one, and schedules a next court date. The judge sets a bond, secures it or leaves it unsecured, and then moves to the next person. For several dozen defendants, it was the terrifying beginning of a life-altering trip through the criminal legal system. It happened on Zoom.
The regular circus of web conferencing followed. The microphone in the jail holding room did not work, despite the fact that online appearances are standard practice. The solution to this problem was to have the accused stand closer, so that the camera showed him from the chin to the chest. Someone in a third location was on mute. The audio speaker in the courtroom crackled and failed to convey voices with any clarity. The entire proceeding was humiliating for everyone, including those of us who had come to show our support for a beloved friend.
The morning was a glimpse into the vast inequities of the criminal legal system. Of nearly 30 defendants, two-thirds were Black. Most of the rest were Latino. Only two were white. Almost everyone chose a court-appointed attorney, a hint that many of the accused were guilty of the crime of being poor in a society that worships money. And listen, we heard some really serious and scary accusations. Most of those making appearances didn’t read as sympathetic characters, and most of the charges involved interpersonal violence. And yet, each week brings fresh reminders that the system punishes poverty and protects wealth. Today’s reminder comes in the form of the newly released Special Counsel report showing an abundance of evidence that with enough money, you can buy your way out of accountability for massive acts of violence and corruption.
The three of us were in Mecklenburg County court with broken hearts, a combination of sadness, rage, and love for the person who would eventually make his first appearance from that jail holding room. The basic work of love is showing up. Being present when things are falling apart is not everything, but sometimes it is the only thing to be done.
There’s a lot of showing up and bearing witness in our future. The calamity of another Trump administration promises acts of world-historical violence, now with official immunity. We will need to be ready to bear witness to, and to get in the way of, all manner of amoral behavior.
Later that same day, those same neighbors and I sat together for a very different kind of gathering. This was the annual meeting of the West Side Community Land Trust (WSCLT). WSCLT was birthed in my living room, the fruit of years of organizing by a group of ten activists across a half-dozen neighborhoods. Those initial organizers saw our neighborhoods being subsumed under a tidal wave of money. Rapid displacement was happening in some districts. The barbarians were at the gate in others. We figured we couldn’t do everything, but we could do something. So we did.
What started with a room full of grief and determination–which is to say, love–now has created permanently affordable housing for more than 140 households. The annual meeting celebrated an accomplishment that seemed impossible just a couple of years ago. Building a single house takes enormous resources. In less than a decade, WSCLT has built (or moved or renovated) more than 140, and set the stage for many more. It’s a remarkable story of the ability of regular folks to make outsized changes. “Organizing gets the goods,” community organizers say. And we did.
Even better, the gathering was not only a celebration, but also a recommitment. We gathered to take responsibility for continuing to push the work further and deeper.
A day of contrasts. Grief in the morning, celebration in the evening. The rotten fruit of greed and oppression, the savory delight of community success. Surrounding it all, the sticky, determined love that keeps showing up, continues building, refuses to concede, holds ground, mourns and rejoices.
Organizing Gets the Goods: The Redress Movement organizes local communities for housing justice. (I’m the organizer in Charlotte.) We have a really cool event happening this Saturday I want to invite you to. It’s a good use of Zoom–connecting with neighbors and building solidarity across the country.
Can’t make it Saturday? If you’re in Charlotte, we have two meet-ups scheduled for the following week to help us keep building.
One Last Note: We got a new dog in our household recently. He’s a cute fellow named Bird, and he loves bebopping around the neighborhood.