Just how do you take down a disabled, Black, community elder activist? Read on.
June 29, 2020
It was the height of the Black Lives Matter protests. I was at home, for a respite from the urgency of the daily protests, when I received an alarming text from a friend: “Seems ______ is saying baba baxter touched one of "her youth" inappropriately at the march. Just look out. She actively, consistently targets activists. And I dunno what happened but I would expect a shit show.”
I had just come home from the rally with Baba Baxter Jones to protest the recent police aggression against marchers in Southwest Detroit. I’d been attending marches for several weeks by now, and had come to see the young protesters like my own children. The night before, the police had responded with such violence that protesters could’ve easily been killed. As a survivor of multiple incidents of racist police brutality, Baba Baxter felt passionate about these marches and attended as frequently as possible. I participated with him once or twice a week, and other nights we asked allies, friends, and advocates to accompany him.
A little later I went to pick Baba up from the march. Several march organizers waited with him, to help load him and his power wheelchair into the truck and trailer. He seemed confused and shaken up, and I told him about the heads-up text I received from our friend. “What happened?” I asked.
Baba said, “I don’t know, it was really strange. This big guy came up to me during the march and he was trying to talk to me. I was distracted because we were chanting and yelling, and I was trying to steer the chair through the crowd. I couldn’t really hear him, but he said something like, ‘I know what you did back there.’ I didn’t know what he was talking about, and then he walked away.”
When we got home, we started to piece together the situation:
- A youth* claimed Baba had touched her inappropriately. This was in the midst of a crowded street march, with hundreds of people around, with Baba flanked by organizers, while he was trying to navigate his power chair.
- For some reason, Baba was being targeted as the perpetrator. The man who came up to him was an organizer with the group, One Michigan, that hosted the youth.
- The allegation had already begun circulating through the community.
I contacted some of the march organizers by text to warn them of the allegation. Several responded right away:
- “that’s insane - here for baba 100%!”
- “People have troubling personalities that need energy work. Sorry this must be stressful AF. We don’t believe that of Baba ofc. Love to you and Baba.”
- “I was next to baba the whole time I didn’t see him touch nobody inappropriately”
As of that night we did not even know exactly what was alleged. What kind of touch? When and where did it occur? Who was touched on what body part? Why did they think it was Baba? Who witnessed it?
The likelihood of the allegation struck me as nearly impossible for many reasons:
- We’re in a pandemic, Baba is immuno-compromised, and strict about spatial distancing. No hugs, only elbow bumps, masked, no physical contact.
- He’s acculturated march organizers to have wheelchairs in the front line as an accommodation for disability. It’s extremely difficult and stressful to navigate a wheelchair through a crowd, and nothing’s worse than getting bumped from behind by a wheelchair. For safety and practicality, it’s best to put wheelchairs in the front of the march.
- Because he is always in the front line, he is flanked by organizers leading the march. On the night of the 29th, One Michigan stepped in front of DWB for one section of the march.
- The power wheelchair makes Baba highly visible and impossible to hide, sneak around, or do anything illicit.
- Baba has a spinal cord injury and nerve damage in his arms and hands. He can only reach out so far towards people around him. He maintains a space bubble around the chair. With his right, dominant hand he must steer the chair continuously. His right hand cannot ever leave the joystick while moving. His left hand can only reach so far, especially while he is in motion. The likelihood of touching someone, anyone, in any way, while driving the chair, in the midst of a crowded march, with his left hand, seems nearly impossible. Those who’ve never used a power chair should try this out themselves, while imagining they have a spinal cord injury and nerve damage that restricts both lower and upper body movement. Someone would’ve had to be practically leaning on his chair to even be accidentally brushed by his elbow, and this was unlikely at the height of a pandemic.
- If such a touch occurred, wouldn’t there have been witnesses? Hundreds of people were marching, and Baba was smack in the middle of the street, surrounded on all sides by marchers.
So many other questions arose: Why did the youth think Baba touched them? Why didn’t the adults in charge discuss the allegation with Baba, aside from the brief, threatening, non-specific reference from the man who came up to him? Who else at the march that night knew about the allegation? Did anyone investigate the situation that night, to get to the bottom of it, and clarify exactly what happened?
To me, it felt like there was clearly a misunderstanding of some sort, and that the youth may have been confused about exactly what happened. After all, it was a hot night, a tense situation, and a loud, shouting crowd of folks from disparate groups and identities moving through the streets. Trauma confuses our senses and perceptions, and impedes executive function. If I experience inappropriate touch in a crowd, it would be easy for me to blame the wrong person, or mistake an accident for an assault, or be triggered and relive a past trauma. As a child, I would hope that the adults in charge would recognize these possibilities and respond accordingly. If the adults had calmly and rationally investigated the situation right then and there, the damage could’ve been nipped in the bud.
Inevitably in community organizing—especially when coalitions are rapidly assembling to address urgent issues—rifts, disagreements, and factions start to bubble up. Rumblings at the marches had been ongoing for a couple of weeks or so. This is human nature, and no big deal, but these conflicts and growing pains present necessary challenges to work through in mature and strengthening ways. Was this allegation arising out of these rifts? Was Baba being scapegoated?
I felt strongly that, for some reason, Baba was being singled out and attacked, and that he needed immediate protection. The following night, June 30, I was unable to accompany Baba to the march but a friend, a well-connected Southwest Detroit resident and indigenous healer, volunteered to be with him. I asked her to smudge and cleanse the space and the people around them, because it seemed apparent to me that a lot of messy, destructive energy was circulating. I advised Baba to speak out and ask for protection, and specifically to ask members of the safety team to march alongside him because he was being singled out and accused of perpetrating harm. But when he finally got a chance to speak, a Detroit Will Breathe organizer cut him short and would not let him finish, saying “Nobody is beyond reproach,” implying that the rumored allegation may have been true.
The next day, July 1, Baba and I had a phone conversation with a DWB organizer, acknowledging the allegation of harm made against Baba. Baba and I immediately requested investigation, dialogue, and a restorative justice or mediation process to address the allegation. DWB agreed to the process, and asked that meanwhile, Baba stop attending DWB events. I suggested that if a cooling off period was desired, then One Michigan, responsible for making the allegation, should also stop attending DWB events. DWB disagreed, because the organization was part of their coalition, despite my argument that all coalition members needed to be held accountable.
Days went by, and we received no word from DWB about the dialogue. I also reached out personally to One Michigan, by phone and email, and received no response. At a July 4 community event, we spotted members of One Michigan whispering to our friend, one of the event organizers. Later, my suspicion that they were spreading the allegation proved true, although our friend did not take the bait, and instead urged One Michigan to take it up with Baba, and seek mediation.
The following week, On July 6, I urged Baba Baxter to start attending marches again, because they are public events, and one cannot be barred indefinitely from public events. On July 7, I reached out to DWB to reassert the need for dialogue. They responded that they no longer planned to pursue dialogue because the youth didn’t want to participate, and also because they took Baba’s presence at the July 6 march as a gesture of disrespect. They closed our text thread with “We are looking for ways to move forward and will keep you posted.”
Baba and I took it upon ourselves to reach out to a member of the Detroit Safety Team, an experienced restorative justice facilitator, who agreed to facilitate a process between Baba and DWB. They reached out repeatedly to DWB that summer, who failed to follow through with the requests for information to get the RJ process started.
It was getting clearer and clearer that DWB and One Michigan had little to no interest in resolving the situation.
We thought the whole ordeal may have died a natural death, until a representative of DWB revived the allegation, through an email listserve to the Coalition for Police Transparency and Accountability. I responded to the message with clarifying information, reiterating the ignored requests for dialogue and investigation. CPTA agreed to support the process and help move it forward. We are currently in that process.
Most recently, the allegation resurfaced on Facebook, in the context of the upcoming Michigan Democratic Party Disability Caucus elections, to argue against Baba Baxter’s campaign for Chair. This person even posted a video in which a voice can be heard saying, “that man just grabbed my ass, in the wheelchair, he just grabbed my ass!” (2:10)
Rewinding the video frame by frame reveals the implausibility of the allegation. Namely, the accusing party was diagonally to the right of Baba (2:01). He could not be moving in his chair, and grabbing someone on his right at the same time. Apparently the accusing party and those perpetrating the allegation do not understand how a power wheelchair works. It doesn’t have “cruise control” or “auto-pilot.” The wheelchair user’s hand controls the chair, which will only move when pressure is applied to the joystick. If the user moves their hand off the joystick, the chair comes to a complete halt. To “grab [someone’s] ass,” he would have had to stop completely to reach his right hand out. The youth would also have had to stop to be within reach. Everyone behind them would then be forced to stop, and they would have witnessed said assault.
Baba keeps his water bottle and food bag hanging on the right side of his chair. Did she brush against something and think it was a hand? Did someone else in the march assault her? Who knows what she actually felt? But what is clear is: Baba’s right hand was driving his chair the entire time, and that hand never left the chair, and the chair did not stop moving.
I wish this kind of scrutiny and logic could have been applied much earlier. So much secondary harm could have been prevented.
The elephant in the room is ableism. I wonder how much Baba Baxter’s disability consciously or unconsciously scared the youth and adults who alleged inappropriate touch? PWD (people with disabilities) are often objectified, and seen as deviants from the norm. PWD can elicit fear because they are othered, kept out of the public eye, and dehumanized. Seeing them reminds us of our own mortality and vulnerability. A wheelchair often elicits fear, especially a power chair which we perceive as a small motor vehicle. Just like racism, ableism shows up without our conscious realization. Like white supremacy, it is both the air we breathe and the water we swim in. Baba Baxter especially stands out as a Black man in a wheelchair, not to mention an assertive, visible, unapologetic Black man. He often elicits trepidation. Is it possible that this young person unconsciously projected such fears onto Baba, even if he never touched her, then told an adult, who may have taken her literally, without scrutiny? A conversation and investigation could’ve addressed all of this months ago.
Meanwhile, none of us in good conscience can allow further assertions of this allegation. We must put it to rest immediately. At the very least we each need to view this video closely, understand the mechanics of a power wheelchair, and understand Baba Baxter’s physical disabilities. We need to actually investigate the harm the youth may have experienced that night. Unfortunately, DWB and One Michigan may have put more energy into assassinating Baba Baxter’s character than to conducting a proper sexual assault investigation. We need a clear, well-facilitated restorative justice process to address all harm. Unless and until we take these steps, true healing remains elusive.
*A subsequent Facebook post stated that “the youth” was not a minor as we were originally informed, but a 19 year-old young woman.
ADDENDUM: Baba Baxter’s Personal Statement, July 8, 2020
When Black lives are under attack ... What do we do..? What do we really do? Is that just a hollow meaningless chant that makes us feel good when we say it? How can we say Black lives matter, if we're not prepared to actually protect Black life? How do we really protect Black life? What do we really do? How are Black lives being attacked? Is it just the police or are they just a symptom of a much larger problem?
George Floyd was a Black life. George Floyd was a Black man. The whole world watched in shock as George cried out for his mother, as his last breath was squeezed out of his helpless body. Why was George attacked? Why wasn't George protected? George was not the first Black life, or the first Black man to be attacked. He was not the first Black life or Black man to not be protected, or not matter.
Black lives, and Black Bodies have always been under attack. Black men have never known what it feels like to wake up and not be under attack. Black men are always perceived to be the 800 lb gorilla in the room. Black men are taught at a very early age that you have to tiptoe through life like you're walking on eggshells. A Black man can never appear too aggressive, or assertive, or confident, or masculine, or any characteristic that might intimidate or threaten others, except if the other is another Black man.
A Black man is conditioned to live in fear. Fear of himself, fear of other Black men, and especially fear of others who do not resemble Blackness. The mere presence of a Black man causes others to feel insecure. So how can a Black man matter, or be protected in a society that is conditioned to fear him, a society that targets him, and places a bullseye on his Black body from the moment he is born? When a Black man tries to protect himself he becomes the enemy, When you try and protect a Black man you become the enemy.
This society was founded on the oppression of the Black man. This society with all of its -isms thrives on the oppression of the Black man. These -isms are structured and institutionalized. A Black man is always under attack, and forced to defend his very existence within these -isms. Society has carved out a place for the Black man and if he dares to step out of place he's punished.
Now what if that Black life, that Black body is a Black Man, and Disabled? Now it becomes even more complicated because another -ism is attacking. It's called Ableism.*
