In one section of my current work in progress, the main character is kept a captive audience as his English teacher recites lines from Yeats's poem "The Second Coming" as a means of both demonstrating the danger of literature and of change.
The poem itself imagines the end of days, and I've always loved it for this: the description of destruction, its prophetic tone, and the parting images of the "rough beast" moving slowly towards its own birth.
Those cycles of death and birth, the fading of one age into another, is something that has always interested me; and it's something I want to revisit in today's context--hoping and working towards the ebb of racism and the growth of anti-racism.
"Turning and Turning in the Widening Gyre"
Yeats's theory of history--represented in the double gyre--in its most basic sense is that something has power, and then, as that power diminishes, a new power establishes itself and begins to grow until the first is faded entirely. In this way, we can see how the expiration of one idea, belief, or power is connected to the growth of another.
It's easiest to imagine when you picture its hourglass shape: as sand drops from the top half (which diminishes), the bottom half grows until the top is depleted. Understanding this as a cycle, the argument is that you can track everything from historical upheavals to changes in thought to the life cycle of a plant.
In YA dystopian novels, think of how the corrupt government inevitable falls to what was once a weakened or outcast group that has grown in strength since the beginning of the story (or trilogy). Looking at our world today, think of how racists and racist ideology, statues, and institutions are finally being challenged. Their gyre is shrinking, and anti-racist work is growing.
One thing to note from Yeats's theory: the resistance always existed; it's just grown more powerful now.
"everywhere / The ceremony of innocence is drowned"
Macing, tasering, beating, and firing rubber bullets upon peaceful protesters and journalists gathered to rise against the systemic oppression of black and brown bodies. Our ceremonies of innocence (read: peace) are being drowned out by racist violence that looks to forcibly maintain the status quo.
"The best lack all conviction"
Social justice burnout. It's real, and it's real scary. In Marie Solis's article "When Dismantling Power Dismantles You Instead," she describes the difficult lives of activists and organizers, writing, "It’s the nature of activist organizing that defeat comes often and can seem irreversible, and those who do it find themselves weighed down by stress, anxiety, and depression. Left unchecked, these bad feelings can accrete into 'burnout'" (Solis). Even if you are not an activist on the front lines, you might feel this as you read repeated headlines of people refusing to wear masks (45), violence against women (Pfc. Vanessa Guillen), police using excessive force (literally everywhere), or the transphobic tweets of popular children's fantasy authors.
It's understandable. That's why it took me almost a week to write this following my last piece (and why it took me almost a week to write my last piece after doing all the research for it--everything just seemed so bad). We all need to recharge, but we can't stay out for long. Why?
Because...
"the worst / Are full of passionate intensity"
It's as simple as that. Activists, anti-racists, anyone interested in equity or justice, can't afford to stop because racism doesn't stop. Transphobia doesn't stop. Unequal access to opportunity doesn't stop. The very things that burn us out are the very things that invigorate racists.
Our only hope is to weaken racism to the extent that the racists, too, are burnt out from all the defeats. Every racist statue removed is a victory. Every confederate flag stripped from the staff is a victory. Every name-changed street, school, or football team is a victory. We need systemic, institutional change, but I'm also all for the death of racism by a thousand cuts.
"Surely some revelation is at hand"
I surely hope so, but if it is to be a revelation--a death and a birth--then the anti-racist work must continue. Because one thing that Yeats shows in his gyre theory, which is echoed in Ibram X Kendi's and Jason Reynolds's Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You, is that once the gyre of anti-racism shrinks, the gyre of racism grows and awakens. They write as much following the passage of the Fifteenth Amendment:
The Fifteenth Amendment was a big deal. But here's the thing about big deals. If people aren't careful, they can be tricked into believing a big deal is a done deal. Like there's no more fight left. No reason to keep pushing. That freedom is an actual destination. And that's how Garrison and the American Anti-Slavery Society felt. Like their jobs were done. They disbanded in 1870. They let their guard down, and the racists were right there with right hooks and uppercuts to the face of freedom. (Kendi and Reynolds 110 - 111)
Thus the revelation is this: to fight and keep fighting for justice no matter what. Start by arresting the murderers of Breonna Taylor. Start by boycotting the Washington Redskins. Start by voting in November.
And never stop. That the gyre of justice may be ever-wide.
Comments
Post a Comment