Admittedly, I, too, was torn over the image depicting some form of passive-aggressive defiance on the part of a teenager who was face to face with a Native American protester at the grounds of the Washington Monument recently.
That the teen was sporting a Make America Great Again hat served as the icing on the cake of my snap judgment. I was incredulous, taken aback and drawn into the gravitas of how the media framed this event.
I, like so many other reasonably informed media consumers, wondered: what is this world coming to? Is this our irrevocable descent into some post-truth neo-liberal never never land? Is this the new greater America? What does this mean for Canada?
My first engagement with this incident was on Twitter. There was that still photo of two solitudes: the seemingly smug-faced, smirking teen juxtaposed with the earnest-faced Vietnam War veteran singing and beating a drum. There was the crowd of bystanders; some also wearing MAGA hats and some appearing to mock the protester. It looked ugly. It did not sit easy with me. It was unsettling.
I first felt for the protester because it was his media interview that I saw next. He felt taunted, bullied and unsafe. He expressed hopes that the youth of America could be better than what he had experienced.
I agreed. Yet, I found myself being drawn back to the student, Nicholas Sandmann. My initial judgment of him and my perceptions of his actions did not sit well with me. I found myself wanting to dig deeper, and perhaps with my educational administrator’s lens, take a longer look at this. I shared my uneasy feelings with colleagues, family and friends.
I recalled the haunting lyrics of the song Witch Hunt by the Canadian band Rush: “quick to judge, quick to anger, slow to understand … ignorance, and prejudice, and fear walk hand in hand.” This essentially summarized my initial reaction. Why was I so quick to be influenced to judgment … and the wrong one at that … by a photo?
I compelled myself to find and review video clips of other angles and perspectives of the event. These were readily found in the days following the incident. More light was shed on the matter. The truth, whatever that means today, was somewhere in the space between those two very human faces.
Enter Sandmann and his comments about his quiet prayer and seeking to calm a chaotic moment. There are always at least two sides to every story. Thinking of Atticus Finch, I tried to put myself in both Mr. Sandmann’s shoes and those of Mr. Phillips.
Upon viewing footage showing different camera angles, and in learning of the interplay and dynamics of disruptive third parties in the crowd, the heat of judgment cooled, and the assignment of blame blurred. More light of reason was shed, but a darkness remained.
Were there poor reactions and misguided behaviours on the part of the teens? Arguably yes.
Were there similar reactions and behaviours of adults who were present? Arguably yes.
And, were there poor reactions and misguided behaviours on the part of those who, like me, jumped to quick and condemning conclusions? Sadly, yes.
There are many lessons to be learned in what transpired that day. May we learn our lessons well.
This unfortunate event is a cautionary tale on the power and responsibility of media. Today, media does not simply report the news but rather, can sometimes becomes the news.
This event also speaks to the power of censorship; that which we are allowed to see, say and do versus what which we are not. Who has the final say? Who determines what truly happened versus the manifold interpretation of an event? The song Witch Hunt suggests that “those who know what’s best for us must rise and save us from ourselves.”
Tim Cusack is an educator, writer, and member of the naval reserve.
