She spoke to us first. She pulled us in with her powerful, heartfelt and unapologetic messages of justice and hope for her people. Black Lives Matter was not just a hashtag for 28-year-old Sandra Bland and through her video blog #SandySpeaks, she spoke to us, wept, and called us to action.
She would not be silent in this Kairos moment. She would not be silent as her sister’s blood cried out from the side of the road and from the damned walls of cell 95 in Waller County jail near Houston. She would break the band of sisterhood and this movement altogether if it meant abandoning even one soul that cried out for help as she cried out to us. Her last recorded words spoken to the arresting officer before being taken into custody that Friday, July 10 haunts us: “You just slammed my head into the ground. Do you not even care about that? I can’t even hear!”
We hear you, Sandy, our beloved sister and freedom fighter. We speak your name.
Black Lives Matter was a love song for her people and a requiem for her prophetic voice. When our soror, Sandy, was stolen from us, she left directive words for us. Sandy left her fire for the movement. She was a fearless fire. Post after post of #SandySpeaks confronted militarized policing and racialized violence that disproportionately impact Black and Brown communities. The scripture says, “So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:11)
You have spoken purposely. You continue to speak prophetically even as we demand answers, “What happened to Sandy Bland?” As clergy committed to Christ’s liberating theology of love and justice, we are called to speak your name. And as your sorors, connected through the sisterhood of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc. and a network of Black Greek Letter Organizations, we are outraged.
We are outraged by the mystery and suspicion surrounding your death. We are outraged that a traffic safety patrol stop resulted in violence and trauma against your body–another Black body terrorized and disposed. We are outraged by the violence projected on to Black bodies at the hands of police and the normalized culture of state sanctioned violence that has left us traumatized and silenced. How can we remain silent when another one of our sisters is dead? How can we not say your name when we have marched, protested and rallied for the names and narratives of stolen Black women to be told?
Have we already forgotten Rekia Boyd (22), Tanisha Anderson (37), Malissa Williams (30), Kendra James (21), Natasha McKenna (37), Miriam Carey (34), Kathryn Johnston (92) and 7-year-old Aiyana Stanley-Jones (perhaps a future Rhoer)? In 2015 alone, we have publicly witnessed the attacks on Black bodies all over the United States. We have been forced to watch looped videos, social media posts and non-stop replays of modern day lynchings of our people at the hands of police officers and those that act out of racism and hate. Yet, we are thankful for those hashtags. We are thankful for those bystanders and their cell phone recordings. We are thankful for those that keep vigil outside of the Waller jail insisting on justice for Sandy even when they were told not to speak or trend your name.
Soror Sandra Bland: Why We Must Say Her Name
To be silent is to forget what Assata Shakur, Harriet Tubman, Ida B. Wells, Sojourner Truth and Ella Baker taught us about sisterhood, strengthening our communities, utilizing the power and gifts within, and the importance of loving and supporting each other to end systems of oppression.
Today we lift up your name Soror Sandra Bland, not because we were given permission to do so. We speak your name because you belong to the movement. We speak your name because you were a young woman activist committed to your community, frequently using your voice to stand up against the injustices Black people either witness daily or experience first hand.
We speak your name because you passionately spoke the names of others, helping the memoriam hashtags trend in order to shed light and bring justice, peace and healing for the families and for all of us. Terror and trauma can cause us to become silent and retreat because we fear what happened to you could happen to us or because we want to demonstrate civility in a time of human brutality. Being silent does not remove the noose from the lynching tree or sanitize the stench from strange fruit and neither does it help us reclaim our unspoken and untold narratives. We speak your name because your story must be told.
Today, we continue to speak as it was the courageous postings and vigilance of sorors, clergy and activists alike, in solidarity with your family that brought your name to the public forum. It was the outpouring of love and lament of your sisterhood that illuminated your light, your voice and your witness through #SandySpeaks. We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes. So today, we tirelessly speak your name and righteously resist the call to be silent. We break the silence and encourage those who are passionate about justice to raise their voices, too.
There is no place in our society or world for police brutality. We speak your name to speak out against militarized policing and state sanctioned violence that devalue and kill Black bodies. We speak your name to expose racism and raise consciousness on the issues you spoke out against.
Lend us your voice, dear sister in this struggle for equality. Lend us your courage. We cannot be silent. We must demand a fair and full investigation into these would be hidden and untold deaths. Lend us your passion. Black Lives Matter. Lend us your name. What happened to #SandraBland?
You were not silent in this fight for our freedom. We must say your name.
In Sisterhood & Service for Justice,
Reverend Soror Bianca Davis, M. Div.
God Can Ministries United Church of Christ
Reverend Soror Waltrina Middleton, M. Div.
Cleveland Action
#SayHerName #SandySpeaks #BlackLivesMatter
#JusticeForSandraBland #SandyStillSpeaking #BlackWomenLivesMatter
