Ok, let me explain my earlier post about silence. There are events that happen in my city that I call “poverty porn” They occur when outsiders come in to lead some type of event that is out of context, out of character, and/or belittling to the people who actually live in the community. These people mean well, but belittle those they try to help or support. A year or so ago, I joined such a group to go look for a lost person. It was on a street I have been on many times (because I get around a lot). The leaders treated it like an armed exhibition into a war zone, carried a gun and wore a flack jacket. I have been on that same street many times. It was overkill and it was poverty porn. The suburban volunteers I am sure got a thrill, similar to the thrill someone gets watching porn, something illicit, something not safe. I left after 10 minutes. When I left, it caused consternation because they felt they had to escort me to my own car half a block away.

Today there was a ride in honor of Daniel Prude. It was a silent ride. I joined late and did not realize it was a silent ride. So clearly blame me. The ride headed down Jefferson Avenue. So you have a lot of bikers, with very few people of color, riding expensive bikes, some in full bike gear down Jefferson, which has been the central point of the BLM rallies. As we ride, one of the older black men who hang out regularly by School 4 asks for some pocket change from the riders and says as I pass “I actually live here.” I see that same group of neighborhood elders regularly on my bike ride home.

When we get to the corner where he died for some reason we stop. The leaders of the ride all jump off their bikes to take selfies with his memorial. One of the actual BLM protest leaders was there early and tried to get us to chant. These are the same chants used at every protest. She needed us to chant and be loud. The three teenage girls who live two doors down wanted us to chant. They have seen a week of protests. They live right there. They needed us to recognize what had happened here. The young lady half out of her car half a black down wanted us to chant, to say his name. They all tried to lead us in the chants, which by now, are like saying a prayer. At that point few did. The neighborhood was saying we don’t want silence. We want noise. If you are going to come tour our neighborhood then join us in our grief. Say his name…… Say our name. What this was, was another example of poverty porn. The riders got a little thrill going by the place Daniel Prude died. They thought they were doing something by riding in silence to honor him. The community on the street, however, wanted to hear our voices and to have our voices join in their anger and in their grief. “I actually live here.” Instead, they got silent tourists enjoying the thrill of seeing the site of a snuff film.

There are times and places for silent rides. This, however, when the wound was so deep was not one of them. If you want to take a selfie of a memorial come anytime, but try doing it during a protest the people actually want to see and hear. Say his name… Daniel Prude, No justice ……… …….

© words by Daniel DeMarle 9/8/2020