Our Art and Our Protest

Remarks delivered at the 46th Annual Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Celebration at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology:

I want to first acknowledge God who is the head of my life; He is just and righteous and gives me the courage to fight for a country and world that is just, wise, and redemptive. Thank you to the MLK Planning Committee for inviting me here today and I’m grateful to my fraternity brother, Bro. King, who spoke out many times whether it was when his government allowed the disenfranchisement of himself and his people or when his government committed war crimes in Vietnam. His truth telling practice inspires my own. And I’m grateful that my parents’ are with me here today.

As much as I am the son of a minister and a scientist, I am likewise the child of the Mattaponi and the people who were forced from their homelands thousands of miles away, forced into a society that dehumanized them, enslaved them, and who persisted. So as much as I am proud to have studied in the halls of MIT, I also recognize that I am only able to stand here because of those who stood before me, because of those who laid the foundation of a place they never had the chance to stand on, I honor them and their traditions of love and grit today.

To speak at this time on February 12, 2020 is to speak at a time when purported common values of humanity, leadership, and integrity are not commonly practiced; it’s to speak at a time when the occupant of the White House is daily and systematically dismantling protections, rights, and resources for millions of people, people in this room here today; it’s to speak at a time when there is utter disregard for fairness and integrity at all levels of authority; it’s to speak at a time of senseless violence in this country and the world that affects mothers and sons, fathers and daughters; it’s to speak at a time when our immediate future as humans is uncertain due to the climate change of which we are the driving force; it’s to speak at a time when police are using weapons to kill innocent people, kill their person, kill their aspirations; it’s to speak at time when it feels like no one is listening.

In the years I’ve been at the Institute, I’ve been in many rooms with many of you where we’ve talked about diversity, equity, inclusion; how we chart a path forward from here; what our next steps are to become a better MIT, how we resolve food insecurity, how we respond to a swastika being drawn on the BSU’s Black History Month display, how we challenge ourselves day-in and day-out to be committed to justice; however in many ways it feels like these conversations fall on deaf ears and idle hands. It feels like these conversations lack a level of seriousness and urgency that inclusion demands. It feels like the voices of students speaking out against policies and practices that infringe upon our community and our values has been normalized, so much so, that we treat student activism not as a sign that our institution must do better, but a sign that our student voices need to be managed, contained, limited in their ability to impact the image and reputation of MIT. It feels like we’ve forgotten that students are what make MIT what it is, and that you can judge any educational institution by how it treats its students, that you can judge the purported progress of any predominantly white institution by how it treats its low-income, black and brown students. Not based on numbers, but their stories.

So to speak at this time, when disinformation is widespread, when there is a lack of trust locally and nationally in leadership and what is right and what is wrong are being treated the same way, is to declare that we are in a fight for the souls of our institutions whether we know it regardless of our willingness to believe it. Six months ago, I was preparing to start my third year at MIT. However the week before returning to campus, I heard back from the Massachusetts State Director at Warren for President. Soon after I had the opportunity to be a regional organizer and work with hundreds, nearly thousands of people, right here talking to them about what’s at stake in America, particularly in 2020, and advocate for the candidate I felt best suited to meet the challenge.

I vividly remember November 9, 2016. It was my eighteenth birthday and the day the occupant was reported elected President of the United States. I remember feeling tired from 5am canvassing on Election Day and frustrated at the end-of-day results. I detached from news outlets and forgoed paying attention to what was happening in the world, as much as I could. I turned inward. And I feel like many of us instinctually do that in response to injustice, turn inward. It’s easier than moving forward. It took some time, but I began to read more. I studied more. I processed more. Thus in the Spring of 2019, I was thinking about the 2020 election — that we need to stop the occupant’s reelection if we want to save any semblance of the nation we live in or that my ancestors built, that to defeat corruption and cheating all hands have to be on deck. I answered the call and left MIT to do so.

Administration, Faculty, Staff, Students, and guests I stand before you today with a heart filled with optimism and hope. Optimistic because all the power that’s needed to make change is in this room right now. Hope, because I am with all of you, each with your own families & colleagues, friends & communities; each of you with the essential ability to organize those networks. I’m here to tell you today that each of you has the power to create the world Bro. King sacrificed his life for, and you can do it right here at MIT. Let’s be motivated by his Dream in 1965, let’s be unified by his Dream that became a Nightmare in 1967. You may feel like your single voice lacks impact, but no single person can do anything sustainable. It takes not a person, but people, and there are enough people in this room right now to make MIT reflect high ideals, community values; there are enough people in this room right now to make MIT a beacon of light in a world that is getting darker and darker. But our opportunity to reflect light, to transform into this beacon is exponentially decreasing. We are running out of time.

To the administration,

I address you first amongst those present because you all are in a position many of us dream to be, to be able to make decisions that have a long and lasting impact, and to facilitate the growth of great minds from across the globe. However, with great power comes great responsibility. You define MIT’s values, and you define it everytime you speak or don’t speak. I ask in each of these moments you challenge yourself to consider the gravity of your vocation and be just. Seek to listen and act on behalf of the students.

To the Faculty,

You interact with us as we grow in knowledge and discover worlds once foreign to us. We spend many of our hours in your classrooms. They become the places where we learn more than the syllabus material, we learn more about ourselves. In the past 20 years, student populations have diversified to students of varied experiences and backgrounds, the battle of inclusion is fought in your classrooms and office hours everyday. What will you do with in this fight? I know some departments recognize and act upon this understanding, I hope this becomes our institutional norm.

To the Staff,

Thank you. And when I stay ‘staff’ I first think of the offices that have supported me immensely and in many ways have become surrogate parents while I’ve lived in Cambridge. Many of you are the support networks that have helped me to remain encouraged at MIT and I know I do not stand alone in saying that. Thank you for the peace you bring in peculiar times and for reminding us that before we are students, we are people. Thank you for taking the time to see us and support us. And to the staff we don’t get to spend our days with, those behind the scenes advocating on our behalf, sometimes by name though we may be here for four years and never learn yours. We see you now, and we say thank you.

And to my Peers,

Whether graduate or undergraduate, eyes are on us. People from around the country and globe, people we haven’t even met yet and may never meet are watching our move, they are going to be influenced by what we choose to do in this world, good or bad. That’s what lies in our hands. Our experiences are the results of this ancient college experiment and we must continue to speak up and speak out for it to be a success. The bureaucracy of demanding better can be frustrating, however we must persist through it. Because, if we don’t then the spirit of complacency will set on our community. Disruption is what pushes a society and — yes a school — to reconsider. To reconsider how it runs, to reconsider its purpose, to reconsider its practice; being disruptors as students who chose this community and are the lifeline is a role that’s importance cannot be understated. And as I speak, I am also disturbed, because I know what we fight against. I am disturbed because we fight against a society in which MIT is included, where profit matters more to those in positions of power than human lives. Our MIT education seems to be made in order to funnel us into this apparatus, where coveted industry positions perpetuate this semblance of security that’s predicated on the exploitation of others, where we are taught to be leaders, but the truth is we are being taught to follow. And so to exist at this moment and time in the world and at MIT is to be in a position to create the world we want to see, if we really want to, if we are willing to fight for it. So I encourage all my peers in the fight for a just world to keep fighting. Keep writing. Keep Drawing. Keep Dancing. Keep Singing. Keep protesting. Keep Speaking. Keep Going. Our art and our protest is how we keep our community free. It is how we discover the true meaning of leadership. It is how we have courage, speak up, and confront injustice. In as much as we acknowledge Dr. King today, we also acknowledge the thousands of men and women that made the movement he represents possible. The people who lived in poverty, the women, the college students, Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hamer, the Greensboro Four, Bayard Rustin, nameless people and countless faces, yet ever present and fighting for the world they desired to create together.

I’d like to leave you all with the words of a soul who inspires me daily, Toni Morrison:

I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge — even wisdom. Like art.

Thank you.