When Demons Float. Susan Thistlethwaite
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“Okay, then, but remember, at any point you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. Now, please open up your cell phones and bring up any photos you may have received of the events on campus yesterday, especially the noose and various reactions to it.”
There was a little rustling while they did that, but since they basically lived through their phones, their dexterity with them was astonishing.
I went to the saved images on my computer where I had transferred them from my phone and projected them.
“Here’s the first photo I took when I arrived on campus.”
I thought I wouldn’t remind them of my consulting status with the campus police, just in case anybody wanted to confess. I doubted it, though.
The resolution on the screen was good. My cell phone camera took a pretty sharp photo. The cheap rope shimmered as the morning dew that had settled on the coil was backlit by the rising sun.
“I also got a lot of images forwarded to me by others, but I won’t display those. What did you get, and what did you think when the photos arrived in your inbox?”
“I thought, ‘What the hell kind of a sick joke is this?’” Jordan said, jumping in first. As usual. “Then I just deleted it, but my idiot friends just kept sending more and more so I finally gave up with the deleting and grabbed something to eat at the Uni.” The Uni was a fast food cafeteria right off the main quadrangle.
So, I thought, Jordan might have been near the quadrangle.
“Well, some of us couldn’t eat after we saw the noose, you know?” Jayden said through her teeth. “We were like nauseated.”
“Uni food can do that too,” Jordan drawled.
Jayden reached into a little purse she had on the table and took out a tissue. She held it out like she was going to give it to Jordan, and then she said dryly, “Here. You can use this to wipe that white privilege off your face.” She paused. “Oh, wait. You can’t. It’s like drawn on with permanent, white marker.”
A few people chuckled.
I was ready to step in if that exchange escalated, but Jayden had actually shut Jordan up pretty effectively.
“I thought it was awful, just awful,” Emma said with a catch in her throat. “I showed it to my roommate, and we couldn’t believe it. It’s disgusting, and vile, and I think whoever did it should just quit school, and leave. They don’t belong here.” Emma got out her own tissue and blew her nose.
“Well, there’s another side to this,” John said slowly, as he tapped a photo on his phone. I could see it was not of the noose, but of the flyer.
“Another side?” Jayden asked, ice coating each word.
“Yeah. Some people are really upset about this department hiring a Muslim guy and then him boasting about America being African. What’s up with that?” John looked challengingly around the room.
“Perhaps,” Nari said softly, “if you actually attended the lecture you could find out ‘what’s up with that’ and learn something. I think that’s the point of a university education, don’t you?”
Well. Nari was stepping up. Her words may have been soft, but the point penetrated, I thought, looking at John’s pale face, now flushing with embarrassment, or was it anger?
Jayden smiled at Nari.
“This image of the noose is a reference to the American history of lynching, correct? From the time after the Civil War, I believe,” Vihaan contributed.
“Yes,” I said. “I think in part it is. But now, as John’s remarks show, it is being used against a Muslim professor here, trying to create enough havoc that his lecture might be postponed, or even cancelled.”
I paused. Since it was Vihaan who had spoken, I thought this was a good time to bring up how global lynching is, even today.
“Lynching is an American word, but the use of mob violence, including public hanging, happens all around the world. In fact,” I looked right at Vihaan, “I believe in India, for example, lynching as a public display of anger has happened and is happening right now, correct? I think there’s a phenomenon of ‘cow lynching’ directed against Muslims, right?”
Vihaan sat back abruptly in his chair. It was a physical display of distancing. He must have thought this whole contentious issue had nothing to do with him as an Indian. Just the feckless Americans going at each other again.
He didn’t answer.
“They lynch cows?” Jordan burst out laughing.
Vihaan actually rose slightly in his chair, ready to stand in outrage, I thought.
I made a small hand gesture for him to sit, and I jumped in to prevent any more insult.
“No, Jordan, no. Cows are sacred in India to Hindus. The lynching is directed at those suspected of killing and eating cows, especially Muslims.”
I turned to Vihaan.
“But there’s more it than that, isn’t there?”
I didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he spoke slowly.
“Yes. Yes there is. Our Prime Minister has a kind of ‘cow-whistle’ politics to promote Hindu nationalism, like your American President has a ‘dog-whistle politics’ about race to promote whites. And yes, it is directed against Muslims. They are accused of being ‘cow-eaters’ and that justifies killing or injuring them. But it’s a way to just say, ‘you’re not Hindu, and we don’t want you here.’ It is terrible.”
“It is.” I gestured at the noose, glistening on the screen at the front of the room.
“Thanks, Vihaan. That was really helpful. All of you. Try to get this. There is a kind of universal vocabulary to lynching. It is a social threat. There is ceremonial shedding of blood. Human blood. The mutilated body is displayed in triumph. The victims are those who are being literally expelled from community by death. And why? So that one group can assert dominance.”
“Chinese too,” came a whisper from Mei. “In California, Los Angeles. Seventeen Chinese men lynched.”
“When was this?” Jayden gasped, looking horrified.
“1871. Every Chinese knows.”
“Wow. I didn’t. Sorry to hear.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “In fact, that is one of the largest incidences of lynching in American history and almost totally unknown.” I cleared my throat. “There’s a lot many of us don’t know about lynching, not only in the United States, but globally. But after the break, we’ll focus specifically on the U.S. history.”
I gave them a generous break. I was sure they needed it, and so did I.
✳ ✳ ✳
I got some coffee from the hall and then came back. I took down the noose photo and connected to the Internet.
Everybody came back except John. Well, I’d said they could leave without penalty.
“Here’s how this part of the class will go. I plan to show you a series of actual photos of lynching, while also asking each person in the class to read a couple of lines of a poem by Richard Wright called ‘Between the World and Me.’
“I have made copies and I have one for each of you, and I have highlighted the lines I’d like you to read. Your name is on the paper.”
Emma raised her hand.
“Yes, Emma?”
“I thought that was by that guy Coates. He like writes for the New York Times and stuff?”
“Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote a book by that title, true, but the words are from Wright’s poem. Coates’s book is worth reading if you have not done