I’m a big fan of Primal Scream: I love it enough to have participated in it three times before. In fact, until the Primal Scream protest was planned, I was planning to run again this semester.
I participated in the Primal Scream protest because it felt wrong not to do so, despite knowing full well that it would be controversial and uncomfortable. I felt morally obligated to stand in solidarity with my fellow students of color, asking my peers for four and a half minutes of silence and reflection before continuing with the annual tradition of running a naked lap around Harvard Yard. I stood with a sign that read “The system is suffocating me,” in the front row of the protesters. I made eye contact with naked classmates as they jumped and laughed, caught up in the regular excitement of a stress-relieving event before final exams descended upon the student body. I watched as they tried to quiet the peers behind them, to no avail.
I believe in the value of Primal Scream as a school tradition. I also understand that Primal Scream is not an organized event. I know what Primal Scream looks like because I’ve participated multiple times. I still had hope that this crowd could quiet itself to listen to the dean of our college, but I underestimated the chaotic power of drunk, adrenaline-filled naked masses. I do not blame those who did not see us or those who did not know. I’m hurt by those who did, those who continued to turn and run in the opposite direction instead of joining us or simply nodding in recognition, even after making eye contact and reading our signs.
I believe in respect for those who are mourning. The communities of color on our campus have faced personally jarring injustice in recent weeks, and we chose to come together in public mourning and recognition. I believe that, regardless of the controversy surrounding knowledge of the protest, this protest enabled individuals to face these issues head-on in a way that many of them had not done prior to seeing or hearing about us.
It’s worth clarifying that our protest was not a protest of Primal Scream. Our protest was designed as a reflective moment, one intended to reach individuals who do not belong to the communities already discussing these issues. Due to the controversy that followed this event, our protest was successful in forcing these individuals to acknowledge, process and discuss the pain that our community had tried to articulate to them, with our signs and silence.
Our protest was met with a variety of reactions, ranging from oblivious indifference to downright violent language and gestures. Surrounded by supportive peers and administrators, I never felt unsafe. However, I did feel pain as I watched peers who were disconnected from this struggle. I felt pain as I was berated by a belligerent fellow student who felt that we had put our movement in direct opposition to Primal Scream. I’m astounded that individuals aggressively confronted us for peacefully gathering in reflection where we knew many student eyes would see us.
Miscommunication about the protest happened, of course, but the symbolism of primarily white individuals running away from a peaceful group of mostly people of color was interpreted as such for a reason. Racism is still prevalent across America, including on our own campus. The symbolism of white folks physically refusing to face race was salient to me and to many other students of color.
While I am upset that Primal Scream runners turned from our protests, I’m willing to explore the truths behind arguments of miscommunication. The fact that so many students participated in Primal Scream without knowing about this protest indicates, to me, a general lack of awareness. Students who participated in Primal Scream without knowing about the protesters facing the crowd suggests that they weren’t, in some way, plugged in to the community that planned the protest. I understand that the protest was planned last-minute, with minimal Facebook publicity and a change in the event’s privacy settings late in the day. However, if you participate in racial justice and diversity events on campus, you have a better chance of staying connected to communities of color in a way that gives you access to and knowledge of protests like this.
I’m not upset by those who unknowingly chose to run in Primal Scream and follow the crowd in the chaos. I’m not blaming you for doing what you did in a chaotic situation. I’m thanking those runners who gave us thumbs-ups, solidarity fists, and supportive texts afterwards.
I’m reflecting on a tense and disheartening scenario. Primal Scream is important for campus community-building, but when did it become okay for belligerent students to completely ignore what Dean Khurana had to say and yell at protesters as though we had done something wrong?
We peacefully protested the treatment of black and brown individuals at the hands of the militarized police state. We chose to do so at an event where we knew there would be many spectators. We asked for silent reflection before the festivities continued, and we were not granted it. It is disheartening to hear my white peers tell me that the protest was in poor taste, as it indicates a lack of empathic understanding. It is painful for me when my white peers critique something that I did purely out of my own moral and emotional intuition, without understanding what it means, emotionally, to be a person of color in America.
I don’t regret participating in this protest. I hope that the controversy surrounding Primal Scream this semester leads to a more open dialogue across lines of race and ethnicity on this campus. Community Conversations – while heavily critiqued – happens at the beginning of freshman year, but that shouldn’t be the end of our conscious conversations about diversity, equity, inclusion, solidarity and respect. I want this protest to spark more frequent, more substantial community conversations for all of us.