Rose Sackey-Milligan

There Are No Enemies

Looking back, I can see that there was colorism operating in my Catholic school. I somehow began to sense difference, although I didn’t have a name for it, when I saw the lighter-skinned students being privileged. Although everyone had equal access that didn’t diminish the prejudice and stereotypes our white teachers brought with them from the US mainland and Europe.

So I didn’t feel Baldwin’s rage growing up. I was 16 when I became politicized, and I began to understand colonialism in the Black world. I connected the liberation struggles around the world to the horrific stories my grandmother shared. I saw US colonialism in the Caribbean more clearly and learned about Malcolm and Martin and the liberation leaders in Africa.

It was my classmates and siblings who introduced me to Baldwin. I also read Soul on Ice by Eldridge Cleaver. I had friends that went to New York and shared what was happening in Black communities in New York and Chicago. That’s how my politicization expanded as a teenager and it continued to grow in college and later in my social justice work.

“A Radical Transformation”

Then there was a radical transformation that took place in 2000. I felt that political activism—community organizing, anti-racism education, all of the work that goes into transforming people’s minds—was necessary but insufficient. A shift in human consciousness away from that which produces inequity and injustice needed to occur, and I no longer believed political activism alone could create that shift.

This position was not popular among my colleagues in social justice philanthropy. I stepped away from my work and spent time reflecting on what it means to create a different human being. How do we reverse the ways in which we are enculturated around race, gender, ability—all of the divides? What is required to transform the consciousness of human inequity and the conditions that created it? This questioning led me to the spiritual path. A recognition of spirit, our unity of being and interrelatedness, I thought, might offer answers to many of those questions.

What has been helpful to counter the rage Baldwin talks about is remembering that humans are not separate from universal consciousness—the consciousness that is in everything. Yet we behave as if we were separate. The horrific acts of insanity in the 20^th century are good examples. Making our way through this darkness is part of the process of human transformation. We’re not done yet! The insane things we have done and continue to do that initiate Black rage—police brutality, the military-industrial complex, genderism, essentially all the forms of oppression—are the result of this insane and unevolved aspect of human consciousness. Though it appears grim in these times, human consciousness is evolving. It has been evolving for centuries passed up to this point and, frankly, there is no other way for it to go. Thirty, forty, or fifty years from now human consciousness will look very different. There will likely be pockets of the same unconsciousness we see now, but, by and large, we’re moving in a direction that will be more evolved.

At this moment I am not troubled that these forms of oppression will never come to end. I don’t believe there’s any other way except an upward evolutionary trend. If we look at all things on the planet, everything is evolving. That’s why I feel encouraged. This pandemic is a good example of how crises are part of the evolution of human consciousness. Without them we stay stagnant, calcified and unchanged. The pandemic feels so pivotal in these times. It really opened a portal that exposed the severity of social inequities on a global scale. The growing number of people—across all divides—who are becoming more conscious, willing to listen and no longer denying the Black narrative is encouraging. I can’t imagine Baldwin would not feel hopeful about this moment.

But he would still challenge us to go deeper. Hanging a Black Lives Matter flag, placing a lawn sign, or wearing a button does not mean the work to end personal, structural, or systemic racism is over. His critique of America would still be as sharp, but I think he would recognize a growing national consciousness on race and anti-racism. For example, in these times, for one to understand a micro-aggression and the harm it causes, is growth; questioning the reason for the numbers of BIPOC men in prison is growth; understanding white fragility is growth; being curious about the trauma of Black folk is growth; a willingness to discuss white supremacy is growth. I believe Baldwin would consider these hopeful signs. Today, more white Americans are taking an anti-racist posture, calling out racist aggression and not being paralyzed in their guilt, but recognizing the truth of racial inequity.

We are all trapped in and victimized by this insane, socially constructed arrangement designed to benefit a few. Human beings are behaving based on their current levels of consciousness. As they are transformed, they will act differently.

“The Beloved Community”

I definitely have hope that America could become what Martin called a “Beloved Community”; it’s a vision of and movement toward the beloved community that will redeem the human species. It will take a long, long time to get there, but it’s possible. Actually, it’s more than possible—it’s inevitable. The level of work that is required by humans to propel humanity forward to realize this inevitable potential calls for strong commitment by all of us.

The rage that Baldwin spoke about might be illustrated this way. Imagine someone stepping on your foot in a crowded train in New York City. It’s so crowded, you can’t move and you’re trying to endure the pain. What do you do? You tell them what you’re feeling, but they don’t hear you. Actually, they hear but they ignore you, and they label you angry and emotional. They might even think they need to step on your foot harder out of fear. They’re afraid of you and think stepping on your foot will keep you in your place. So how long will it take before you say, “Enough is enough! Do I have to protest, riot, burn your house down to get your attention?”

In this example we’re saying to white folks, “Stop. Look at yourself.” Being outspoken and challenging is essential. Can we expect any self-respecting community being stepped on to act any differently? The struggle, the calling out and in of injustices, is required until change happens. Until white folks recognize that they are stepping on people’s feet irresponsibly, this protest will continue. Simultaneously, we recognize the interrelatedness of all human beings and hold the knowledge that the consciousness that produces our own demise is being transformed, moving us closer to Martin’s vision of a beloved community.

There are no enemies here. As human beings we are caught in a structure humans created that is not working for all life on the planet. We’re all locked in together in a system of dominance/subordination, so our liberation is linked. We have to do this transformative work together. On the surface it looks like Black people are the only victims and the ones being sacrificed—we think of the brother, George Floyd. But we are all are sacrificed on this altar, undeniably some more than others. Unfortunately, this pattern will continue until humanity has evolved beyond its current level of consciousness.

***