http://www.komonews.com/news/local/The-Seattle-anarchist-who-wore-the-wrong-outfit-149868205.html

May Day rioter in Seattle smashing windows of Bank of America and Niketown wearing none other than a nice pair of Nike sneakers?

It’s incredibly disappointing to see people using destruction and violence in the name of a “cause.” Against war? bank bailouts? welfare cuts? healthcare costs? tuition costs? mental health institution closures? Large corporations? Breaking windows while promoting your lame hyper-masculinist agenda isn’t going to make the lives of physical and structural violence victims any better. In fact, it makes it worse.

There is grave injustice being done in our country, however as a people we have more freedom of collective action and peaceful protest than many other parts of the world, yet some decide destructiveness and violence is the answer. Open a book and read about how governments in other countries have responded (or are currently responding) to  protests and struggles in Chile, Syria, Bahrain, or China to name a few.

http://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2012/05/christians-gays-and-bullying

I was on the bus yesterday and overheard, as I often do, someone speaking about a perceived uncomfortable interaction they had earlier that day. After talking about said incident they felt compelled to categorize the person as a “crazy black man.” What struck me most about the conversation is that A) the bus was pretty much packed and B) it seemed as though it was a completely casual statement, without even possibly an acknowledged bit of racism from the person who said it. I feel like these types of comments are really disturbing as well as all too common in our so called “progressive” world. What are your thoughts on this topic of “casual” uses of racism. How may the best way be to go about acknowledging to people saying them that it’s actually pretty messed up they are saying it?

On the corner of University Way and Campus Parkway in Seattle’s University District,

two old beaten up bicycles, one built for a young child and one for an adult stand tied to a light post. Both bikes have been painted all white and are surrounded by an array of artifacts of remembrance including withering flowers, a Jimmy Johns sandwich shop uniform, a bicycle helmet, a sandwich delivery performance report, a empty bottle of Evan Williams Whiskey, and a golden, miniature cyclist, frozen in motion on top of a trophy that reads, “R.I.P. Robert Storm Townsend, ‘it’s okay to mash.”

            A car struck Robert Townsend, 23; at 6:18pm on September 10^th 2011 while he was on the job delivering sandwiches for the company whose shirt now lies at his memorial. He was traveling southbound on University Way when he collided with the windshield of the car that was making a left-hand turn from University Way onto Campus Parkway. After the collision he was taken to Harborview Medical Center where he died of his injuries. Robert Townsend was the fourth cyclist to die while riding in Seattle since July of 2011.

            Memorials like this one in the University District are unfortunately common sites. Oftentimes they commemorate the death of a pedestrian, cyclist, motor vehicle driver, or victim of intentional violence. Each one is unique in some way; however, displaying a harsh familiarity that invokes a responsibility to remember not only that someone died at the site, but that their death was a tragic cessation of the natural cycle of living and dying.

            As I stood at the memorial, I couldn’t help but place myself into the position of the deceased cyclist, to imagine having my mortality realized seconds before my vulnerable body collided with a steal cage much more powerful than the skeleton protecting the machines of my life. I thought about my mother, father, brother, and loved ones standing around the intersection wondering why this had to happen, pleading to be in dream. I imagined a motor vehicle operator who now has to live each proceeding day not being able to say they have never ended the life of an innocent person. Also on my mind are questions of structure as well as agency in the collision. Was this death merely an “accident?” or were there forces at play that could have prevented someone losing their life? And if so, who or what is to blame here?           

            Robert Townsend’s death represents for many a tragedy not only in itself but also the larger political context both locally and globally of those who have died in bicycle collisions with motor vehicles-even those who have died in collisions as pedestrians. Robert’s death is remembered by many people who knew him personally as well as those who did not. The process of his remembrance is conducted in a way that his death is somewhat immortalized within the politicization of the incident while his identity as a person who had important social relationships during his life in some senses becomes lost. I hope to explore the way that Robert Townsend’s death has been remembered and ways that his identity as a cyclist has taken prominence for many who remember his as martyr in political debates that oftentimes center around victim and perpetrator identification.

            When violent events occur in the lives of humans, oftentimes swift imperatives are developed to locate the rightful place of those involved as either victims or perpetrators. The victim-perpetrator identification in Robert’s death could be easily seen in the comment sections attached to  online news articles on the incident. Almost instantly on most of the threads that I looked over, the conversation became highly politicized in a cars vs. bikes debate. The Seattle Times comment thread on the story started with people predominantly voicing their opinions on whether the vehicle or the bicycle involved in Robert’s death was most likely at fault given the little amount of information provided in the news story. Debates about whether the car or the bike had a green/ red light or whether either had an obligation to yield to the other took original precedence of the conversation. Then a debate about whether or not cyclists or motorists were largely to blame for traffic accidents as a whole quickly took center stage for those who wished to voice their views on the Seattle Times thread. One poster stated that the collision was a “senseless tragedy” due to “young people who think they’re invulnerable.” This particular poster stated that they were “sad, but not surprised” that the death had occurred. One bike advocate commented that what led to the death “was irresponsible motorist behavior” and that “no amount of blame shifting will change this very basic fact.” Another poster stated that they were “sick and tired of bicyclists believing they don’t have to follow the rules of the road,” not particularly placing blame in the death of Robert Townsend but more so voicing a opinion that cyclists are reckless and therefore insinuating they are largely to blame for bike-involved traffic accidents. 

            On most of the threads that I looked over, there was very little mention of Robert Townsend as a person at all. Every once in a while someone would say something offering their condolences to the victims family and loved ones or state their sympathy for the death. At one point one poster on the Seattle Times thread felt the need to point out that there were real people involved in the tragedy, stating they were upset that people could, “prematurely assign blame to support their underlying agenda.” Another posting somewhere in the midst of the Seattle Times thread wrote, “condolences to the family of the cyclist who died in the U-District,” feeling that for some reason there was a need to point out who they were giving condolences to as the conversation had drifted so far from the people involved while many aimed to determine who had been to blame for the incident and those in similar circumstances.

            In addition to online forums where people were able to express their opinions surrounding Robert’s death and other traffic accidents, the physical space where the death is memorialized also serves a larger political purpose for those who view Robert Townsend as the victim. The two white bikes at the site are part of a campaign to promote awareness of bicycle deaths that have occurred worldwide. The painted “ghost bikes” are placed at sites where deaths have occurred, oftentimes with a sign attached that reads, “a cyclist died here” (older pictures of Robert’s memorial also show it bearing this sign). The campaign has placed white bikes at sites of death in areas all over the world including forty locations in the Seattle area. Projecting this message at the site of Robert’s death places him as a martyr along with others who have died on bicycles, most importantly those who have died due to a view that the death was avoidable if it wasn’t for negligence of some sort. The memory of the death and those like it are used to develop a responsibility within drivers, cyclists, and city officials to make streets safer for those using alternative transportation.

            Similar to what has been written on the subject of martyrdom in parts of the world where the phenomenon has garnered particular fascination; what Robert Townsend died doing and particularly how the death occurred is especially important in gaining momentum for more politicized issues. As people walk, ride, and drive past the memorial, they are constantly reminded of an incident that places dark memories in an otherwise seemingly peaceful area. The death’s remembrance, with purpose of place and context (that a cyclist died) becomes important in the goal that remembrance will develop a responsibility for all who see to do what is in their power in order to prevent further collisions, most prominently geared towards pushing drivers to be more cautious of bikes on the road. The memorial serves as a cathartic representation meant to develop emotions within all who see it and are able to relate in various ways. The cathartic representation of the incident has potential to incite both a sympathetic as well as empathetic memory for the people who are exposed to the site. A fellow cyclist may view Robert’s story as very much like his or her own in the sense that their roles of dead and living could have easily been switched. Someone who drives past the site may develop sympathy with the person who died and their loved ones loss, while they may also develop empathy with the driver who was involved in the death of the cyclist. And as I said above, the memorial also has potential to incite anger geared towards various parties. For those who have martyred the dead cyclist and used the incident as an example for validating and mobilizing their movement, empathetic memory is key to maintaining as well as obtaining momentum. If people are able to relate to the incident and place themselves in the positions of those affected, then more mobilization will occur towards preventative change. Placing the memorial at the site where the incident occurred is extremely effective as it places the viewer immediately closer to the context of the death, forcing them to imagine it in their current place and time.

            Allen (2006) states that the martyr funerals of Palestine “create a public sphere in which participants and observers are hailed as national subjects, while simultaneously they generate a forum in which public political debate occurs.” Allen also states that people who had died outside of a political context, rather going about their daily routines, after death were then turned into political actors.  The way that fellow cyclists have used the physical space of death to remember their “like minded friends” is similar to what Allen has written on the martyr funerals of Palestine. Robert Townsend was given a martyr funeral of sorts on September 25^th 2011 when a group of fifty cyclists got together and rode to three sites where a cyclist had died in the recent months, including the site of Robert’s death. The memorial ride was both to honor the dead but also to spur activism to make the streets safer for bikes. The ride opened dialogue among cyclists while also garnering attention from other members of the community to its message. All three cyclists died doing something that they did routinely for transportation. None of them died engaging in political activism but have sparked unity among those who have placed them into those roles.            

            At the end of the article that Shalit wrote on the memorial bike ride to remember the cyclist martyrs he poses the question, “now that we’ve documented the summers deaths, what’s next?” This question has a lot of importance in the context of the physical spaces of memory for Robert’s death and others like it when considering the inevitable truth that the memorial is temporary. In the eyes of the city, there will come a day when the white bikes, withering flowers, and work uniform are no longer a public memorial but clutter that needs to be removed. What happens to those memories once that space is gone? Where does the dead cyclists status as a martyr lie? Will he be remembered the day when more roads have bike lanes, or when another cyclist dies? Possibly the memorial will have been gone for so long when those times come that this incident may not come to mind. Although the memory of Robert’s death may not stay at the forefront of the activism that spurred from it, the incident will likely serve as part of a cumulative collective memory as responsibility presents itself and is forever being shaped and reshaped by the changing of the times. Important to note however, as his memory goes in and out of political debates, is that he most likely never left the hearts and minds of the people who knew, loved, and cared about him in his many other forms of identification.

http://www.foxnews.com/us/2012/04/06/enhanced-audio-11-call-questions-if-george-zimmerman-used-racial-slur/#comment

apparently George Zimmerman, the man who shot and killed a young Trayvon Martin last month is not heard saying “fucking coon” on audio right before shooting Trayvon. Apparently he decided it was imperative to make a comment on the unusually cold Florida weather on that particular night. Well I think there may be others out there who agree with me on that fact that I find it a little strange that someone’s mindset, in the heat of the moment before murdering someone else would say, “it’s fucking cold” and then pull the trigger on another person. 

Really? I mean aside from the fact that this doesn’t change the circumstances that someone with a bag of skittles and iced tea was killed by someone about twice his size with a gun, but is this really the angle that people are trying to take on “proving” that somehow this murder was not self defense and most certainly related to race? Give me a break.