The Rigors of Protest, Social Activism, and Bodhicitta

The Rigors of Protest, Social Activism, and Bodhicitta

by Anna GibsonThe ground was cold. Every year around Christmas, Detroit hosts a celebration in honor of the Christmas spirit called Noel Night. The Detroit Institute of Arts (also known as the DIA), Central Detroit Library, and surrounding areas are lit up with Christmas lights and a general air of festiveness. Except for us. I and about 100 others were protesting the all-too-recent deaths of Michael Brown, Eric Gardner, and numerous others whose names need to be remembered and spoken. Emmitt Till. Tanisha Anderson. Aiyana Jones. The names of those whose lives have been taken before their time are numerous.I’m no stranger to social activism. I recall a small event I went to with the Black Student Union at Wayne State University. We stood out there a few minutes with our hands up; the final resting position of so many people before us. While the intent was there, the impact of the protests I’d participated in wasn’t as visceral as the die-in I’d experienced.The rest of the activists and I lay there silently for 30 minutes. I remember looking up at the stars as tears streamed down my face. The cold of the ground began to seep into my skin through my coat but I was determined to continue. I could only think about how this was the final resting position of so many before us; their fear, pain and tears, and how intimately connected all of us truly were. The discomfort of what I was experiencing was a mere fraction of what they must have felt when taking their final breaths.Most of the crowd offered platitudes of support. Some verbally approved, some particularly moved individuals came and laid on the ground with us. As I lay there, I felt connected to everyone there, and everyone that have ever died due to police brutality and socio-political violence. However, there were a few members of the crowd who didn’t understand our message.I couldn’t see their faces, but I heard such comments as, “They’re sleeping down there,” and “Come on, we’re trying to have a good time here, why you got to ruin it for everyone?”There is an old Buddhist parable of an arahant who was teaching a mass of people. A dog in the crowd began to bark incessantly. A man in the crowd became angry with the dog and threw a rock at it. When the rock struck the dog, the arahant cried out and fell to his knees. In this parable, the arahant was so in tune with the suffering of others that felt the dog’s pain as viscerally as his own.I can’t look down on the onlookers who didn’t understand what we were doing during the die-in. I was raised in the inner city, and before my journey into Buddhism, I wasn’t very open-hearted myself. However, I do understand that this is why Buddhism is important: we are here as Bodhisattvas to help shed light on the injustices around us and turn the wheel of the dharma until everyone can pass from their personal hells into a more enlightened and peaceful way of living on this Earth. We are here to be that arahant and deal with the rocks, verbal or otherwise that may follow.We are also here to practice Bodhichitta, or open-hearted compassion. This isn’t going to always show up in our personal world as a pleasant experience. It may mean making other people uncomfortable. It may make you uncomfortable. You may be sneered at, mocked, or looked down upon because of choosing to practice compassion. You may be considered too ‘idealistic’ or ‘soft,’ but the rigors of Bodhicitta requires it. The Buddha would call this ‘moving against the stream.’ Any resistance to the status quo can be expected to meet some form of push back in return.However, it must be done. Furthermore, the gift of fighting for what’s right is its own reward. You will meet with the smiles of others and the peaceful knowledge of having positively impacted the lives of others. Pain is often sacred. Your wounds allow you to feel the pain of others in its fullness and soothe it, because you’ve been there.If only for 30 minutes, I was there. I am Trayvon. I am Eric Gardner. You are also all these people, and so many more. By feeling their pain, how can we sit in complacency? This is the gift of Bodhichitta. It clears the mind and heart, guiding you on the path to goodness and right action.To my fellow lay practitioners, don’t let anyone tell you leaving a legacy of goodness isn’t worth it. The greatest gift one can give the inhabitants of the Earth is your open heart.  If that means causing a disruption in the ‘Christmas Spirit’ or any other event we choose to attend, so be it. The wheel of the Dharma must continue to turn. Our work is never done.[divide style="2"]Anna Gibson is a social activist and student of Wayne State University in Detroit. She seeks to illuminate the stories of the marginalized and hopes her work will be the catalyst for compassionate change for the world around her.