Protesting During a Pandemic Is an Agonizing Choice. It's Also the Only Choice.
Weekly Article
Sybille Reuter / Shutterstock.com
July 2, 2020
Over the past few weeks, people across the country have faced a choice: join protesters demonstrating against racial injustice, or stay home in light of the ongoing pandemic.
This, however, is a false dichotomy. The sacrifices required of this movement aren’t unprecedented; rather, they’re just another example of how resistance to racism has always come at a high cost. Being Black means existing in a constant state of yielding, choosing between fighting for equality at great personal risk or suffering the status quo. Historically, Black people have had to offer their own bodies in protest—during the Birmingham campaign in 1963, at lunch counters in Greensboro, and on the Edmund Pettus Bridge.
This current moment is no different. Black people aren’t strangers to putting their lives on the line, and once you recognize the stakes, there is no question that we should all be doing our part to contribute to this movement.
Black Lives Matter protesters aren’t on the streets because they don't believe in science or dismiss the risks—which are, in fact, eight to 10 times higher for Black and Latinx people. Most are acutely aware of the dangers of COVID-19: That's why the vast majority of protesters wear masks; why healthcare workers and vendors distribute water, food, and hand sanitizer at their own risk; why nurses receive loud applause when they show up to march; and why many protesters are self-quarantining when they return home.
So why not protest from a distance? Why congregate, confront police, and shout in tight crowds, transferring saliva droplets that might carry the virus?
Because it’s working.
COVID-19 is a public health crisis, but so is racism—a raging epidemic we’ve never managed to contain in the United States. This moment is a rare opportunity to make people aware of white America’s persistent persecution and exploitation of Black communities throughout our country's existence—and to inspire them to demand profound, concrete structural changes. George Floyd’s murder and the resulting protests have galvanized millions across the globe, and they’ve led to tectonic shifts in support of racial justice: According to a New York Times poll, support for Black Lives Matter jumped by 11 points just two weeks after Floyd’s death. Protesters have helped white and non-Black people reflect on their role in systemic oppression.
And the protests have done more than shift public sentiment. The police officers involved in Floyd’s murder have been charged, and nine members of the Minneapolis City Council have pledged to dismantle the city’s police department and create a new public safety system. After activists rallied continuously outside his home, Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti announced a $100-150 million cut to the police department’s proposed annual budget. The Washington, D.C. City Council unanimously passed an emergency police reform bill in early June, which the council chair for the Committee on the Judiciary and Public Safety directly attributed to the demonstrations. Ahmaud Arbery’s murderers were arrested in Georgia after residents protested in front of the local sheriff’s office. After weeks of chants to “say her name,” the Louisville Metro Police Department fired one of the three officers involved in Breonna Taylor’s death, and the mayor banned no-knock warrants.
Of course, there’s still much progress to be made. While policymakers have made gestures toward appeasing protesters, the movement’s demands center on building anti-racist institutions, not on purely symbolic murals—especially when police continue to use chemical agents and rubber bullets against those exercising their First Amendment rights. This initial momentum is just the start of a broader effort to shift public resources from police budgets that fuel the carceral state to productive social programs that address racial and economic inequality. Protesters will continue demonstrating until officials invest in systems and institutions that empower Black communities.
Research supports efforts to radically rethink the role of policing. Police in the United States are often ill-equipped to handle their assigned tasks: Only one in 10 incidents that police respond to are violent, and yet—as demonstrated by the Rayshard Brooks shooting—cops respond to non-violent calls with a gun and a badge, often unnecessarily escalating violence. There is little evidence that increased policing reduces crime. Meanwhile, over-policing of marginalized communities—especially Black communities—is a significant driver of mass incarceration, and there is ample evidence of the prison industrial complex’s role in upending communities and entrenching racial inequalities.
Protesters are demanding that resources that have been historically consumed by police (including much of the $1 trillion the United States has spent on the War on Drugs over the past 40 years) be redirected toward addressing homelessness, food insecurity, lack of economic opportunities, health care, and more. Treating these as the logical consequences of systemic discrimination, rather than as criminal acts, is a critical step toward building better communities—it’s worked in Portugal and a number of other countries.
The novel coronavirus has been in the United States for around six months. Systemic oppression of Black people is an epidemic this country has lived with for over 400 years. The courage of the protesters—many of whom are at increased risk of getting COVID-19—is inspiring people to not only reflect on their personal biases and prejudices, but to understand how racism casts its long shadow on every facet of our lives, including our justice, health, and economic systems. Rather than criticizing protesters for spreading COVID-19 (despite current lack of evidence to support that conjecture), let’s make sure public displays of protest create tangible, lasting change. After all, some viruses are best managed with quarantines and social distancing—but others require us to come together, to stand in solidarity with those who have been cast aside by this country, and to fight together for a more just, compassionate future.