Lucy Gellman Photos
Organizer Quaye at Friday’s protest.
Eda Uca: “I am terrified”
Wilbur Cross High School student Cowiya Arouna was walking by the Green when she saw a dozen people lying down on the ground and chanting the names of black people killed by police.
She grabbed an extra sign and lay down, too.
Arouna, who is 16, was one of dozens of people who gathered around a “die-in” protest held at the corner of Chapel and Church Street Friday afternoon, following two incidents of police officers killing black men in Minnesota and Louisiana.
The die-in also came the afternoon after sniper attacks killed five police officers in Dallas at a demonstration against police brutality.
Organizers said they wanted to stress the importance of “solidarity” at a time of strife, instead of separation.
Friday’s protest came out of a “therapeutic” meeting of about 45 people Thursday night who convened to “debrief” and talk about the emotional effects of the shootings, said Amelia Sherwood, one of the lead organizers. “We gave each other other a lot of self-care about what is going on,” she said. “I believe we were able to have a very therapeutic space to talk about it a way that other people can’t.”
Sherwood said she thinks that if the Dallas snipers had a similar space, “I don’t believe they would have killed those people in Texas. It was a very unfortunate event right after” the police shootings in Louisiana and Minnesota.
Organizers decided to host a public event Friday afternoon, though they knew it would be small with a lot of people at work, Sherwood said. A larger rally, organized by the New Haven chapter of Black Lives Matter, is planned for 7:30 p.m. on the Green.
A handful of people met at the fountain in the center of the New Haven Green at 1 p.m., notified by an event publicized on Facebook through activist group “The Narrative Project.”
Sherwood and fellow organizer Mercy Quaye led the group to Chapel and Church Street corner. They handed out flyers with a list of demands.
One flyers demands: “Stop Killing Us. Convict people who kill people. Discourage on the job discharges of firearms by implementing a mandatory investigation and unpaid leave. Dismantle White Supremacy. Don’t elect Trump.”
Another flyer’s demands: “No racialized sentencing. Allow police to use force only when absolutely necessary — not just when reasonable. Get police out of schools. Gun control. Sentencing reform. Prison reform.”
They also handed out colored pieces of papers with the names of black people shot by police over the past several years.
A few police officers stood on the corner just outside of the Green, watching the peaceful event. In recent rallies against police brutality over the last couple of years, New Haven police officers have shut down traffic to clear the way for people marching through the streets of New Haven. There are usually no arrests.
Friday morning, in the wake of the Dallas killings of police officers, New Haven department officials said they planned to have officers to patrol in pairs, instead of alone, to ensure their safety.
“Michael Brown …” Quaye yelled from the ground, referring to the unarmed teenager shot and killed by Officer Darren Wilson in 2014.
“… didn’t deserve to die,” the others chanted, finishing her sentence.
At every silence, someone started a new chant that radiated down the line of people.
Unlike Arouna, who joined in, most who came across the protest stayed on their feet. They took out smart phones and recorded videos of the “dead.” Others walked around with their hands in the air, during the chant, “Hands up, don’t shoot!”
Not everyone stayed on message. One protester led the chant, “When I say ‘black,’ you say ‘beautiful’!” A woman in the crowd changed the words to, “When I say ‘white is,’ you say ‘beautiful.’” Another woman passing the Green on Chapel Street threw her right fist up in protest and chanted “All lives matter!” back loudly. From the corner of the Green, a middle-aged white man seated on a bench added, “I didn’t hear ‘White lives matter,’” adding a small stream of expletives that did not dissuade those on the ground.
Sherwood’s mother, Alicia Tyson-Sherwood, said she was proud of the protesters for pushing through tense moments like that one, which could have been “turning points” in the event.
“At any given point, it can go south,” she said. “We’re not trying to start a revolution. … We want to make sure people understand that when [violence] happens to one, it happens to all.”
Alfaro.
That sentiment flowed through the crowd as well. Several of the protesters said that they showed up because they could not stand to be silent, or were afraid for their lives and the lives of their families, friends and colleagues after this week.
“There are a couple of things that are going through my head right now,” José Alfaro, Connecticut advocacy manager for the Northeast Charter Schools Network, said. “These are issues and problems that have been going on historically — these aren’t new things, but with technology it’s allowed for a lot of exposure that hasn’t exactly been pleasing to watch. So I think the things that are going through my mind right now are … making sure that the people that I love and care about, both black and brown, people of color and allies within the movement and around social issues are taking care of themselves.
“I want to make sure that my people have the wherewithal to deal with the police if and when they are stopped — how and when they can prevent themselves from becoming targets, with the understanding that this can happen to any of us at any time, at any moment. As I become older and I think about having kids, my kids would by Afro-Latin American. What does that mean for the safety of our country? What does that mean for the safety of my kids? What does that mean to my god kids, to my parents, to all of the people within our communities?
“For me, I have an array of different emotions — from concern to anger to rage to sadness, and even sometimes numbness. I can’t feel like I process all of this hurt in one sitting, day after day after day. This becomes overwhelming to us. Sending a message to our people that we are invaluable is, I think, my duty to put that out there.”
Eda Uca, a transplant from the New York area who moved to New Haven to attend Yale’s Divinity School, agreed.
“I’m terrified for the life of my friends,” she said. “I’m not sure what it is that we ought to do next, but this is what it is that felt right to do now. My friends … are beautiful people. They have accomplished a lot with their lives. I’m thinking of my colleagues who are the future leaders in the academy and the church and in the world, and none of that matters when it comes to a police stop. None of it matters. I am terrified for their lives.”
Chris Harrington, a D.C. native who moved to New Haven two years ago to work as a policy manager at the Northeast Charter School Network, expanded on her thought, saying that he feared for his friends — and for himself, as a young man of color.
“It’s scary. As a young person, as someone who spends time and enjoys living in a city, it’s disheartening. It’s scary when you’re driving and you have a police officer pull behind you just as a routine thing. Maybe they’re just trying to switch lanes, but you know — your heart stops a little bit.”
“Being pulled over hasn’t happened to me in New Haven,” he added. “But I’m originally from the D.C. area and I would say that it happened to me a lot there.”
Arouna.