When “normal” is not equitable: justice as the antidote to passive peace
By: Eleanor Falahee, ICE in the Heartland team
My name is Eleanor Falahee and I am one of the 2020 University of Michigan UROP Summer Fellows. When signing up for this date as my first summer reflection, I expected to write some fluffy summary of how spring term was finally over, and how I had learned so much throughout the past few weeks.
Instead, as I sit down to write this, I am struck by how little I really have learned – or, rather, how much farther I still have to go. Spring term is over (thank goodness!), but my learning these past few weeks has really just begun. I have so much farther to go.
The world is on fire. Both metaphorically and literally in some places, flames are consuming our country. Between the murder of Ahmaud Arbery, the disappearance and killing of Vanessa Guillen, the 600,000 lives lost to COVID-19, and everything in between – from the Australian wildfires to the “killer hornets of 2020” – the reality we live in now seems so distant from our reality pre – pandemic, and every day I feel a longing for peace creep up in my heart, eager for the smoke to clear and the world to feel “normal” again.
But what is “normal” anyway? Is “normal” allowing the perpetrators of a racist hate crime to walk the streets without fear of repercussions? Is “normal” permitting these criminals to go unpunished until a viral video is released and the police department for which they work is forced to finally address the problem? Is “normal” requiring victims in the military to report their sexual harassment and assault charges internally to the military itself, rather than to an independent third party which can keep their information safe and confidential? Is “normal” living in a society so engrossed with individual liberties, that something as simple as wearing a mask to protect others becomes a political battle? Is this really a normal to which we want to return once the fire dies down and the ashes clear?
I can only hope we emerge from the past few months having struggled and grown and changed as the fire around us rages. That’s the thing about fire – the “normal” never endures anyway. Fire melts us and molds us, reconfiguring everything it touches and ensuring that nothing it encounters can ever remain the same. So why do I bring this up? Like I said at the beginning, our world is on fire and I am hungry for peace. But real peace is much more than a mere break in conflict; it doesn’t mean returning unscathed to the pre-pandemic reality and forgetting altogether the disparities in infection and suffering, systemic racial oppression, and blatant violence that has been brought to the attention of the public over the course of the past few weeks. True peace requires that we look injustice dead in the eye and swear to not look away until each person is free.
One definition of peace that I love comes from the 11thcentury Old-French word “pais.” which means “reconciliation.” Whether this reconciliation comes in the form of reconciliation within ourselves, as individuals, or within society as a whole, it is evident that true peace is the fruit of a fight; it comes about on account of a wrong being reconciled. Within ourselves this could look like reconciliation between racist prejudices (both that which is unconsciously learned or intentionally adopted) and our duty as humans to treat every person with love, without exception. Similarly, this reconciliation could more resemble that on a larger societal scale, dismantling the systems of racial oppression which perpetuate disparity, giving rise to injustice. No matter how it is framed, it is evident that peace requires reconciliation, and that reconciliation requires work.
A dangerous response to the events of the past few months is a call for passive peace, using silence as the antidote to a justified uproar, arguing that the quelling of conflict is the best solution, and ignoring any real reconciliation entirely. This proposal is bereft of work, instead believing that a return to normalcy should rely on the ignorant belief that the past must be predictive of the future; that traditions, teachings, systems, and structures can neither evolve nor stand corrected. This is dangerous. This is wrong. To ignore the voices of the oppressed and lean instead into the opinion of the oppressors is to create a society more devoted to the comfort of some, rather than the justice of all. As a white person, I cannot (nor do I desire to) center my voice in this fight. Rather, I implore my white friends and family not to confuse calmness with peace; to stop fighting for a return to normal, and instead focus on a path forward towards justice. This requires us to seek out and listen to other–often marginalized– voices, to accept that we might be wrong, and to realize that unless we intentionally put in the work to re-educate and re-devote ourselves to justice, we are part of the problem. Peace is not a “nice idea” made up of happy thoughts and good feelings, it is an action and a choice, requiring change to take priority over comfort, and insisting the voices of the oppressed ring louder than the noise of the oppressors.
Our world is on fire, but perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Perhaps by stepping into the flame, we can better pursue and provoke peace in our world – a peace that is not a utopian dream, but rather an actionable, ever-evolving commitment we must make to each other to fight for the dignity and justice of all people. To close, I’ll leave you with a quote from Arundhati Roy: “Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” May we allow the fire of today to reshape, rework, and re-inspire within us a new devotion to each other, a new thirst for justice, and a new dedication to peace, until this new world arrives.
Eleanor Falahee is a third year undergraduate student at the University of Michigan studying Biology, Health, and Society & Spanish. Passionate about both health equity and immigration reform, she was drawn to this project for its intersection of the two. She is particularly interested in the gendered health disparities immigrant communities often face, and hopes to continue this work into her career. Currently, she serves as a Research Assistant for “ICE in the Heartland”, a project funded by the Documenting Criminalization and Confinement Research Initiative at the University of Michigan.
