Nicole Crawford

this is the 21st century and we need to redefine r/evolution. this planet needs a people’s r/evolution. a humanist r/evolution. r/evolution is not about bloodshed or about going to the mountains and fighting. we will fight if we are forced to but the fundamental goal of r/evolution must be peace.

we need a r/evolution of the mind. we need a r/evolution of the heart. we need a r/evolution of the spirit. the power of the people is stronger than any weapon. a people’s r/evolution can’t be stopped. we need to be weapons of mass construction. weapons of mass love. it’s not enough just to change the system. we need to change ourselves. we have got to make this world user friendly. user friendly.

are you ready to sacrifice to end world hunger. to sacrifice to end colonialism. to end neo-colonialism. to end racism. to end sexism.

r/evolution means the end of exploitation. r/evolution means respecting people from other cultures. r/evolution is creative.

r/evolution means treating your mate as a friend and an equal. r/evolution is sexy.

r/evolution means respecting and learning from your children. r/evolution is beautiful.

r/evolution means protecting the people. the plants. the animals. the air. the water. r/evolution means saving this planet.

r/evolution is love.

Assata Shakur

When abuse is prevalent within our most intimate relationships, we find ourselves limited and hypocritical in our passive attempts to adopt liberatory frameworks and practices into our lives. As people who are intrinsically webbed into a broader international struggle towards collective liberation, we are subject to colonial, imperial, and white supremist violence on a macro-institutional scale. However, our focus on the plight of Afrikans through the lens of combating fascist and militarized violence, institutional exclusion, and discriminatory systems of power, while necessary, can often externalize the roadblocks we face to achieving Pan-Afrikan collectivism in a way that overshadows and disregards the deeply rooted internal transformations that must take place. 

Intercommunal violence exists among the organizations, structures, and people who are most affected by the forces of state-oppression and intimidation. This is not surprising. When routinized to function as part of a larger system of power we are likely to consciously, but more often unconsciously, adopt western, hyper-individual, and abusive ways of knowing, thinking, imagining, and interacting as a means of survival. This brings us into dialogue regarding one main question: Does the liberation of Afrikans require internal transformation?

Christopher Lavender, a first year transfer studying sociology, provides us with a common perspective to ground our discussion on the matter. He says, “Yes, let’s just call it how it is. I believe so. With Afrikans you are weighed against anyways all throughout life, especially here, they say it’s the land of the free, but we are not really free.”

This analysis is not only shared among most people within the Pan-Afrikan diaspora, but it’s simply true. Faced with the institutional barriers of police violence and systematic oppression, the disconnect between the promises of the imperial core and our lived reality are jarring. 

According to the Los Angeles Times, “Since 2000, at least 1018 people have been killed by law enforcement in Los Angeles County” and “almost all of the dead were men, nearly 80% were Black or Latino. More than 92% were shot to death”. So, to say that we as Afrikans are privileged enough to see the fruits of equity and liberation would be to lie to oneself. We are in desperate need of social transformation and of tangible solutions, this is clear. However, to sustain these transformations outside of the sensationalized deaths of Afrikans and performative protests, we require a change in how we view ourselves and deep understanding of the degree to which structures of violence influence our communities. 

Caila Chappell, a third year senior and political science major explains this as she says, “While there are oppressive systems in place that are keeping people of the Afrikan diaspora down and from being able to access certain things, I think that no one else will free you but yourself. The people that are oppressing or in these oppressive positions are not going to be the ones to free you because they’re benefiting off your oppression, so you would have to take within yourselves to be able to overthrow the places in power that are keeping you in whatever position you are in”. 

She also reminds us of where we as Afrikans have come from. “Throughout history, typically the people who have freed Afrikans are themselves. I think a lot of history is misconstrued through a white-savior complex lens. For instance, you have Abraham Lincoln freeing the slaves when in reality that was not the goal to free the slaves, it was more so a political move and even after that while they may not have been physically in chains, Afrikan people were still enslaved. So, I think the only way that they were able to achieve some sort of freedom or a greater freedom than they already had was through convening with themselves”. 

This perspective unveils to us a new depth of truth and commitment that is required in our attempts to adopt liberatory frameworks and longevity in our struggles towards collectivism and self-determination. We must understand our histories, not from a linear perspective, but from an analysis that allows us to recognize patterns of erasure, oppression, and violence when they are happening before our eyes. Our failure to legitimately consider these parts of our practices is often what prevents us from integrating the external accountability that we expect from violent institutions into our own lives and immediate communities. 

Failing to consider these aspects of struggle makes it hard to create autonomous solutions to the intimidation and degradation that we face, but more importantly, it is dangerous. When we fail to identify that we too can adopt practices and mindsets of hyper-individualism, colonialism and imperialism, we become a danger to our broader global community. 

Kenya has become one of the latest examples of this as they have started their interventions in Haiti. “Kenya has sent troops on missions inside and outside Africa, but no African country has ever led a security mission outside the continent” and while Foreign Minister Alfred Mutua said  “Kenya stands with persons of African descent across the world” this is false. “Washington has increasingly grown reliant on Nairobi for its security interests in the Horn of Africa in recent years” and this is a perfect example of blackface imperialism and how our negligence in adopting measures of self-accountability and internal transformation will always lead to more harm (Al Jazeera). 

Simply put, “Abuse of all kinds, specifically systemic abuse, translates to abusing each other” said Caila. 

Nathanial Tesfai, a first year transfer studying history and political science echoed this sentiment as well. “In Afrika today, the World Bank is giving countries unfair loans” but he explained that “my family jokes about it, in Kenya they promise prosperity and end up stealing from the treasury”. 

Our inability to honor the duality of our plight as Afrikans is killing us both literally and metaphorically. We are responsible for not only challenging the external systems of power that we can recognize, but furthermore, challenging ourselves to reframe how we form community. We as Afrikans are in a need of a deep shedding and metamorphosis and while this is grueling work, it is absolutely necessary as we continue to plant the seeds of struggle for our future generations to nurture and reap. 

Assata Shakur says, “the power of the people is stronger than any weapon. a people’s r/evolution can’t be stopped. we need to be weapons of mass construction” and this is true. We are responsible for one another, in grief and in healing, and understanding this is the only way that future generations will begin to experience the ease and autonomy that our ancestors have struggled towards.