Wisdom from a 60-Year Civil Rights Veteran
“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war.”
— Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
On January 7, Renee Nicole Good became, for a short time, the latest victim of police violence against civilians. My heart breaks for Good’s family and community. I mourn her death and rage at her murder. I also wrestle with an emotional mess of anger and grief over the dozens of Latinx lives brutally taken by immigration officers before they took hers, deaths largely ignored by the news media.
I ask myself at times like these, What can we do to save lives while fighting to effect positive change in a violent world? For the past 15 years, I have been able to turn to my dear friend and mentor, E, for advice. This year, he received the devastating diagnosis of stage four pancreatic cancer, creating a sense of urgency to record and share his wisdom more broadly.
Ephriam “E” Bennett, author of the memoir God’s Love Kept Me Fighting, grew up during the height of the Civil Rights Era, engaging in his first political demonstration at four years old. [Watch The Bollard‘s interview with E here.] It was 60 years ago that he marched with Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. His is a progressively rare and precious Black voice that holds wisdom for how to organize, demonstrate, protect, endure, and heal in an age of increasing militarism and state violence in Maine and across the U.S.
Here’s my interview with this 60-year civil rights activist.
Over the years, you have shared with me some key lessons from the Civil Rights Era that many of today’s activists and organizers weren’t alive to experience. You were there. What advice would you give to people who want to bring about meaningful, positive change in the world through protest and demonstration?
First, it is vital to look up information. Do research. But, you also need to get with people who actually lived what you’re studying. Leo did this and had the benefit of me being right there in prison with him. Be forthright and ask your elders hard questions that need to be asked. Don’t be afraid to also share your thoughts and ideas. An important part of history that’s often overlooked is that the civil rights activism was started by high school and college students. They are the backbone of this activism. Speaking especially to young activists and college students studying social justice: stand on what you believe in and seek out older people who have lived what you’re learning and aren’t afraid to share truth from their experience.
As you witnessed in the 1960s and ’70s, there are various forms of resistance to the militaristic occupation we are witnessing in U.S. cities by the National Guard and ICE right now. Many Latinx people were murdered by ICE agents before Renee Good’s white skin and bold actions brought national attention to this type of state-sanctioned killing. Now that people are paying attention, what guidance might you give on how to maximize impact and minimize risk of death during individual acts of protest in this militarized context?
To see why this question is so important, look no further than Andrew Goodman, Mickey Schwerner and James Chaney, who were brutally murdered in 1964 by police Ku Klux Klan members while investigating a church bombing in Mississippi. It was Schwerner, whose roots were in Germany, who brought attention and care to the urgency of the movement. People of many colors and nationalities had their lives taken in those days. The revisionist history and the messages coming out of the White House today, that armed troops in U.S. cities is okay, is dangerous. I believe today is actually more dangerous than in my day. There are more guns and more government support for violence against protesters, regardless of color.
The President being more oriented towards occupation puts youth activists today at greater risk of death. You don’t have a John F. Kennedy or a Lyndon Johnson in office to take measured, decisive action, like we did.
Today’s organizers, especially young and justice-impacted ones, are trying, but they need elders to guide and support them in maximizing impact and minimizing risk to their lives. This is true in Maine and around the country. Like I said, young people have always been at the forefront of change. You need something like the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) that formed a network, practiced self-protection, shared information with politicians, and developed relationships with national movement leaders, like Dr. King and Malcolm X. You need all colors, nationalities, and genders of people to come together, back politicians in a corner to be accountable to the people who elected them, and put pressure on learning institutions to support and protect students in exercising their right to free speech, demonstration, and protest.
Being in prison creates a physical, mental, and emotional separation from the pain and suffering in the world beyond the walls. What would you recommend to those of us in prison — and on the outside — when it comes to dealing with this type of grief and mourning? How can we overcome this forced separation from painful reality?
Accept the sad fact that there is no getting over the pain and suffering. Many people remain unknown and unnamed from the Civil Rights front lines. The same is true of incarcerated people and Latinx people of today. Only so many deaths are properly reported. We as a nation and as a world need to realize that incarcerated people are still human beings who have a need to grieve and mourn with their outside community. Prisons need to put in place more mental health workers, welcoming college students studying psychiatry and psychology, creating space to grieve. Administrators can also open more online access, so prisoners can share grief and support others in their mourning.
I have to say this, too: in those facilities that offer college opportunities, administrators need to stop quieting the voices of students who find and use their voice to speak out. First, you laud them for their accomplishments; then, when they speak out in a way you don’t like, you restrict their access and make it difficult to continue their education that you once supported. You humanize them with education, then dehumanize them by silencing them when their voice gets too strong.
Speaking of voice, I was four years old when Dr. King came to town in 1966 and I did my first march. It was the Chicago Freedom Movement march to combat racial discrimination and push for economic justice. Dr. King was brutally attacked, bringing the march to an end. That was my first taste of activism 60 years ago. This gives me the right and standing to speak as an experienced voice on Black history, civil rights, and social justice activism.
Images of white police violence against Black bodies is seared into my mind from footage my dad showed me as a young boy. I was taught to viscerally fear all police and the white skin beneath the uniforms. How do organizers — especially those with Black, Brown, and other vulnerable bodies — work to heal while each new year brings a new manifestation of targeted state violence?
That stuff happened to me. I was there witnessing the water cannons, billy clubs, dogs, and guns. I got whooped for drinking out of the Whites Only water fountain. You never get rid of that trauma, but you can work to heal. What has worked best is acknowledging that those fears are rooted in reality. Like many other people of color who suffered these traumas, I was afraid of dogs for a long time. You have to take it day by day with people willing to help hold your pain, listen to you, encourage you, not judge you, and open a door for you to heal in your due time.
Healing takes many, many years, and a lot of work, where prisons and many places don’t invest in your healing, but rather focus on making money off your body. It’s a long process and you need a team of people, a village, to help you overcome your traumas and retake your agency. It is vital to have people in your life who really care about you; a strong support base is crucial.
What words of encouragement or hope do you want people to hold on to from you right now?
No matter how bleak your situation looks, how far you fell, how many times you disappointed yourself or others, or what sickness is placed on you; I want people — especially young people — to give God an opportunity to show you how much He loves you; know He can take your life and turn it into one worth living. Don’t give up on your dreams.
Young activists, keep seeking the truth of what you are involved in. Tap into an older person who has walked, lived, and breathed what you’re learning. Someone who isn’t afraid to speak truth to you, give you love (tough love sometimes), help you see the high value of yourself to God, society, and your family. They can help you share your God-given talents with the world.
Never give up and never let yourself be discouraged by negative stuff people say about you. Learn how to put God first and you’ll see how He can impact your life and help your life be impactful on the world around you. Finally, seek the words of wisdom and lived experience of those who came before you. Together, we can create a world worth living in for the generations to come.
Leo Hylton is a PhD student at George Mason University’s Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter School for Peace and Conflict Resolution, currently incarcerated at Maine State Prison. His education and work are focused on Social Justice Advocacy and Activism, with a vision toward an abolitionist future. You can reach him at: Leo Hylton #70199, 807 Cushing Rd., Warren, ME 04864, or leoshininglightonhumanity@gmail.com.
