By W. Nick Taliaferro
In many ways it was just a ruckus at a dock, and the actions perpetrated there would typically be considered as violent and illegal affronts to civility. But sometimes a common melee can become a catalyst that causes a group of people to shake off a legacy of oppression, and even change the way that they view themselves.
And that’s exactly what happened on that dock. After years of feeling unfairly treated and disenfranchised, a group of people reacted in a way that said, “enough was enough!” And though their violent reaction may be hard to condone, it was nonetheless cheered on by non-participating onlookers – and perhaps may even be viewed sympathetically by those of us who heard about it after the fact.
We’ve even given it a name; we now call what happened at Griffin’s Wharf back in 1773, “The Boston Tea Party.” And it’s acknowledged that that ruckus changed the way the beleaguered colonists saw themselves – they weren’t going to be victims anymore – they became determined to both support and stand up for themselves.
I bet that you probably thought that I was speaking about the more recent ruckus that occurred in Montgomery, Alabama, where a group of white people took offense when a duly authorized Black man gave them a directive. Damien Pickett, the Black co-captain of the Harriott II Riverboat, told them they had to move their illegally docked party vessel. Words were exchanged, and ultimately Pickett was physically assaulted, knocked down, then beaten by members of the white group from the party boat.
Amazingly, after this assault upon an innocent Black man – who was simply doing his job – the group of white folks went back to their boat and acted as though they were entitled to do what they had just done. In the Montgomery, Alabama of 75 years ago, the situation might have ended right there! After all, Montgomery, Alabama was the home to the first White House of the Confederacy, and they were at the same dock on the Alabama River that once bore the sorrowful footsteps of enslaved Africans being marched to the market for sale. And this is that same Montgomery that arrested Rosa Parks for daring to be human, and where the Freedom Riders were viciously attacked in 1961. The very same Montgomery where a mob of white citizens laid siege to a Black church where Martin Luther King, Jr. was peacefully leading a service filled with over a 1,000 people.
But that was then; and in 2023, that Montgomery, Alabama doesn’t exist anymore.
In today’s Montgomery – now lead by its first Black mayor, and the current home of the Equal Justice Initiative – yesterday’s Montgomery is no longer welcome! This was attested to by the vigorous response of several Black men who came rushing (and swimming) to the rescue of Damien Pickett, whom they would not allow to become another victim of apparent white privilege. To be succinct, the “script got flipped,” and some street justice was levied that spoke with fierce and brutal eloquence on behalf of an untold number of previous Black victims who had to silently endure Alabama’s state-sanctioned racism. Please understand, this is not an attempt to justify the vigilante response to what might appear to be racism – just as I would not attempt to justify the years of terror brought to bear upon Black folks throughout American history. Nor am I making accusations based upon assumptions; I do not know if the white folks were racists (or just drunk and stupid), nor if the Black defenders were motivated by justice alone. (And you don’t know either – that’s the task of the juridical authorities, and we should allow the courts to do their job.)
But allow me to offer this postulate: just as the Boston Tea Party became a powerful symbol for a people who had endured inequity and oppression, I believe that this disturbance at another dock will become a galvanizing event for Black people in America. When those Bostonian colonists violently reacted to the legacy of unfair treatment that they had endured, they began to see themselves differently; and they began to act differently, too! Ultimately, that event became a catalyst that caused them to see themselves as empowered allies, rather than simply the victims of “intolerable acts” that had been perpetrated against them. The rest is history.
Likewise, I believe that this “Montgomery Melee” (as it is now being called), will prove to be a moment in time when Black people will see themselves as having transcended from the status of victims. And when people stop regarding themselves as victims (ie, reactors to the actions of others), they take on a power to initiate and cooperate that leads to more positive ends. They tend to focus more on common impediments, and better still, they spend more time coalescing around common interests! Synergies get built and coalitions get formed; the need to make progress quells former squabbles and petty differences in favor of mutual advancement.
Let me be clear: this is NOT simply about identifying and beating up “the enemy.” When Black folks rejoice upon viewing the Montgomery Melee, it isn’t because white people got a comeuppance.
What mature Black people saw (and rejoiced over) was the coming together of Black people, fearlessly and passionately, in the face of a common problem. Someone once said that it isn’t your hatred of the perceived enemy standing against you that leads you to victory, it’s the love of the people with you and behind you that gives you the strength to move forward to victory.
What Black people saw on that Montgomery dock was Black people coming together. At a time of rising Black-on-Black violence (and I hate that term), what Black people saw on that Alabama River dock was Black men using their arms to support one another, rather than taking up arms to erase one another. And in the case of 16-year-old Aaren Rudolph, arms were even used to swim to the rescue of a brother in need – an uncommon effort, made in the name of unity and progress!
Back in Boston in 1773, growth and progress came as a result of what was thrown into the water; but in Montgomery, Alabama, growth and progress will come as a result of what came out of the water. Either way, history was made.
Nick Taliaferro is a veteran radio personality, minister, and the former executive director of the Philadelphia Commission on Human Relations. He is also a contributing editor of Message Magazine.
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in the article belong solely to the author, and not necessarily to the author’s employer, The Philadelphia Sunday SUN, the author’s organization, committee or other group or individual.
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