I didn’t want to say it. No one had elected the guy in charge of anything. He just had the loudest voice. Or was the most jacked for the occasion, or the youngest and newest to the whole enterprise of marching for anything. Probably a combo there of. He had a backpack and wanted to make sure the cameras in the helicopters didn’t record his face.
“They’re watching us.” He piped out of his hole with a finger jabbed at the news helicopter.
One of the older activists walking down Hollywood Blvd with us pointed to the cellphone in his hand and was like, “dude. They don’t need that.”
I could be mistaken, but I think the words were something like Fuck the Police. It started out Defund the Police and then he put his little spin on it and then we were all saying it. Even me.
Immediately, I didn’t like it. So I stopped. I was there to march for accountability and reform but the methods and the language didn’t sit right. I had so many friends and relatives who were cops. One of them I was at his graduation ceremony for. I felt confused. Because I also was there for reform, for justice, for accountability, for independent commissions, for all of it. But I didn’t like yelling fuck anyone. And IMHO defunding is bad branding and doesn’t make applicable sense. I could be wrong, but don’t we need more funding? Funding for social workers, and drug courts, and trained licensed de-escalators. But those three words just sounds powerful when wielded. The syllables pack a good one, two punch for maximum impact. And I freely admit I come from the definition of privilege, even if I didn’t come from great wealth. But in a way, slogans like this make the dispossessed feel temporarily more powerful. But at what cost?
I recall feeling a similar moment when a bull horn got handed to a strike captain on the line at Paramount during the long summer of 2023 when we were marching for our union. A voice loudly chanted no justice no peace. Halfheartedly we acquiesced, repeating the chant at the end of day rally. But deep down, it felt it was a little off topic. But we were all too tired from the sun, and the heat, to have a moment of decorum there on the side walk and question the prudence of it all - let alone th utter lack of historical perspective of how many labor movements had been steeped in blood.
Slogans can really fuck a cause. Fuck them right out of becoming a movement.
I’ll repeat that. Slogans can really fuck a cause. Fuck them right of becoming a movement. Especially, movements that are looking to build coalition. Coalitions, by their nature, demand many people who wouldn’t otherwise agree to somehow set aside their differences (which often feel insurmountable) and find common ground on one thing. At a union march, to suggest there will be no peace is to say that our efforts out there were violent. And I didn’t think they were. We had dogs and snow cone trucks and someone brought a puppet. The true violence was economic and aimed at us from the other side of the studio wall. But these facts didn’t stop a young, well meaning, misguided person from using language that didn’t fit the occasion.
Language. It can be radioactive. Words like Zionism. They carry a million meanings for a million people. And by definition carry the quantum totality of fact. I cannot speak further on it, because I am by no means an expert. Nor should I.
But I do know when you throw in the bull horn and a person in a back pack, context can get lost. And then something can easily look like something it is not in the eyes of the people who need to be engaged. And then things can easily be siloed, soundbyted, and dismissed. And I think the moments we live in now can’t be dismissed. But what do I know. I’m just a dude. Who likes words. And fully understands the volatility and inherent paucity of their use to convey things that carry deep emotion.
Right now, I am sure someone is misinterpreting my intent here. We all have prejudice, preconceived ideas, things we feel, and all of them can blur our ability to get under something and see it with nuance and objectivity. And place that perception on a spectrum, not a linear graph. And it fucks us even before we get started.
I may be wrong, but maybe we should think hard about the slogans we use to stir our emotions during times of great tumult. But we rarely do. Si, se puedo, thank you Dolores Huerta, being a heartfelt outlier.
The point is, it is tricky. When we try to marry language to emotion. And then when someone starts saying something, like from the river to the sea, we go along with it. Because we are stirred, it is something we understand that carries great meaning and feeling, and little do we know of its context. Or, it’s origins. But Everything has crusty origins. Double meanings and standards. No taxation without representation was by design not intended for all, but an invention designed for a specific purpose, by an elite group of white male land owners and protect their self-interest. But that launched a revolution. So…. Where does that leave us?
Maybe that’s why they sung songs or were silent, when warriors of light crossed a bridge into Selma, or when Gandhi led the march to the ocean.
Don’t mistake me, our voices matter. Our right to free speech is first among all things, but it is our words that matter in the employ of our voices. Lest we dilute things as pure as Let there be justice. And let there be peace. In our holy cities, and in all our hearts. As crazy and impossible and naive as that sounds.
I would carry on, but I think more is left unsaid on the matter. Plus, I have had a sick dog, and a short film to direct. I am and remain forever grateful for you embarking on this journey with me.