BANNED

a justice driven, bookish newsletter by Austin Channing Brown

Footnotes

This Email is (Mostly Not) about Charlie Kirk

'Sweeping It Under the Carpet' by Banksy

When I first heard the news about Charlie Kirk, my first response was, “who?” I honestly have never heard this man’s name. And when I saw his face and heard his voice—still nothing.

So when the conversations around his death started to reach a fever pitch, I was really curious why. So many of us had never even heard of this man.

His death stirred up the usual debates about what we owe to the dead. Should we never speak ill of the dead? Must we give greater consideration because of how he died? Are we able to police how people feel about someone’s death, or more specifically, can mourning be compelled? All interesting questions that were sure to race like wildfire through social media.

But then something strange happened. People started losing their jobs. Lists are being made. Shows are being cancelled. Suddenly, we are not just having a debate on socials. People are being punished for speech in a country where the First Amendment is supposed to protect when expressing an opinion, majority or minority. This is starting to look eerily like McCarthyism. And I wish that was an exaggeration.

Let me pause here and say, I know that all of this is overwhelming. Our slide into fascism is a lot to carry emotionally, especially when there are so many other things happening too. We are worried about our neighbors—here and abroad. We are worried about our families. We are worried about our own health—physical, mental, and maybe even spiritual at this point. Things are heavy. So I want to give you a second to take a deep breath right here. Maybe several. Because part of what’s overwhelming is sitting in the discomfort of facing the thing before fighting against the thing. It’s an uncomfortable space to occupy. But I want to ask that you stick with me for just a moment. Resist the panic. Let’s just analyze what we think is happening because that will go a long way toward determining what we should do next.

Okay. So conservatives have decided that all of us must venerate Kirk—despite the many heinous things he has said and implied about a host of folks in marginalized bodies. We are all expected to withhold any critique or else be punished. But why?

This seems to me like such an outlandish response for someone many people had never heard of. It would not be surprising to me if we had lost the current President or even the current VP. It would not be as surprising if it were a conservative constantly in the news or maybe a Supreme Court justice. This is not to say that I have a desire for anything violent to happen to any of these folks. I do not. I’m simply trying to understand what feels to me like an outsized reaction for someone who was popular but not POPULAR, you know?

And the one thing I keep coming back to is how often I have found that white supremacy is obsessed with being considered “good”, especially if that person is a self-proclaimed Christian.

I think we most often hear this clash of ideas with the white men who founded the United States of America, but also were enslavers. Uninterrogated whiteness is desperate to keep only the "pretty" part of their legacy intact while sweeping the rest under the rug.

It’s a magnified version of what I’ve encountered more times than I can count in my daily experience:

White people want respect and reverence for being good, regardless of whether or not they actually were.

Their definition of good is not rooted in practice. You don’t have to treat other people well to be considered good. You don’t have to be careful of how you speak about other people to be considered good. You can participate in horrific practices (like slavery), as long as they are socially acceptable. Uninterrogated whiteness is desperate to maintain that morality is something separate from how you treat marginalized people.

And I think that’s one reason why this moment has become a hot spot. Because in this moment, conservatives are losing the moral argument. (Now they have long lost that argument, of course. We know that, but I honestly don’t think they knew.) I don’t think they understood that we are fully aware of the morality of our ethics and are unwilling to concede our ground. I think it’s possible that the conversation, critique, and willful resistance to reverence has shaken the powers that be.

I think they are scared that they, too, will not be remembered as good people.

If this is even partially accurate, what does that mean for us? I think it means a couple things:

We are not out of this fight yet. I know it feels like we are losing. But when the government and other institutional powers have to resort to punishment—they are losing. Be encouraged that we are fighting back by continuing to use our freedom of speech, even when we are punished for it.
Do not concede your moral ground. Continue to expect that someone who wants to be considered good must practice that goodness in particular ways—namely, not just being nice to the people who look like you. Goodness must be rooted in the multitude of people we advocate for, the ways we expand freedoms for others, the ways we practice inclusion, and the ways we fight for justice. You all know that I believe the pursuit of racial justice is the practice of being a better human. And that is something we all should strive for—not shutting down our concern for others but opening ourselves as wide as possible to create belonging for those America is determined to harm.
Refuse to be cooperative. If you are asked for a list of names, the answer is no or no one. If you know someone** who has been punished—it’s time to follow and support whatever they do next in defiance of this regime. If you are on the committee that decides who will be let go—now is your time to shine. Because within those four walls of the conference room, you are about to determine your legacy in this fight- will you resist or will you acquiesce? Now is the time for resisters.
Choose your online conversations carefully. Ask yourself—what is the benefit of participating in this conversation, and what boundaries will I put in place for my own participation? You have to use your energy wisely, friends. And I would so much rather your creative energy move toward practices that are actually creating change, versus the (often) unhealthy online conversations with strangers that change no one and nothing.

Cheers to the creative resisters,

Austin

*PLEASE BE AWARE, THIS NEWSLETTER CONTAINS AFFILIATE LINKS TO BOOKSHOP.ORG, WHICH MEANS I RECEIVE A SMALL COMMISSION IF YOU CHOOSE TO MAKE A PURCHASE USING THE BOOK LINKS. I WILL BE USING SAID COMMISSION TO FEED MY BOOK ADDICTION, OFFER YOU MORE REVIEWS, AND AROUND AND AROUND WE GO. THE COMMISSION DOES NOT COST YOU ANYTHING, AND I WILL ALWAYS LET YOU KNOW IF I RECEIVED ANY OF THE BOOKS FOR FREE99.

**updated to remove Karen Attiah as a specific example since today she said her termination letter revealed a different reason for why she was fired from The Post. Stay tuned, because she says the real reason is even worse. (wow)

Booklist

In times of difficulty, with a government working against its own people, we must turn to our friends and loved ones to provide context, language, energy, and hope. The People’s Project offers a range of perspectives, drawing wisdom from their communities and histories: from know-your-place aggression to crip time as a way forward, from finding strength in nature to how trans people provide a guide for the future, and how hope has everything to do with survival

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As Indigenous scientist and author of Braiding Sweetgrass Robin Wall Kimmerer harvests serviceberries alongside the birds, she considers the ethic of reciprocity that lies at the heart of the gift economy. How, she asks, can we learn from Indigenous wisdom and the plant world to reimagine what we value most? Our economy is rooted in scarcity, competition, and the hoarding of resources, and we have surrendered our values to a system that actively harms what we love. Meanwhile, the serviceberry’s relationship with the natural world is an embodiment of reciprocity, interconnectedness, and gratitude.

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Survival work, when done alongside social movement demands for transformative change, is called mutual aid. This book is about mutual aid: why it is so important, what it looks like, and how to do it. It provides a grassroots theory of mutual aid, describes how mutual aid is a crucial part of powerful movements for social justice, and offers concrete tools for organizing, such as how to work in groups, how to foster a collective decision-making process, how to prevent and address conflict, and how to deal with burnout.

Purchase Here