ASHEVILLE, N.C. (AP) - The label “activist” doesn’t sit right with Bryan Thompson.
Activism’s root - “act” - implies it’s a choice. But for Thompson, confronting racial injustice as a Black college student in Asheville, North Carolina, is about as optional as breathing.
Activism, Thompson says, is essential for surviving and thriving on a predominantly white campus in a mostly white city.
As a poet and creative writing major, Thompson, 23, is prone to parse language down to individual words.
“My responses can get kind of heady,” they admitted during a recent interview in West Asheville. Quick to smile, Thompson bookended perspectives on deep topics such as intersectional social movements and systematic racism with self-deprecating asides.
Thompson grew up in the small coastal city of Fort Pierce, Florida, immersed in the Baptist church and more attuned to theological discourse than broader equality movements. Thompson spent a year after high school working and took courses at a local community college before trading the ocean for the Blue Ridge Mountains of Western North Carolina, coming to Warren Wilson College in the winter of 2017.
At a school where Black students compose just 8% of enrollment, Thompson found a space, and a need, to explore advocacy. A few years back someone had carved KKK into trees around campus, and Thompson felt a lingering divide between white and Black students. Thompson, too, felt uncomfortable on campus and realized it was time to become an agent of change.
Thompson became head of the college’s Black Student Union, connecting with young leaders on campus. “I just grew into it,” Thompson said. “The foundations of my politics became concrete. I started to be able to freely speak my voice.”
‘THE BLACK EXPERIENCE IS NOT A MONOLITH’
Sporting a shock of dyed green hair under a black cap, Thompson held a microphone on a sunny Saturday in early June and addressed the ring of protestors gathered in downtown Asheville.
“We’ve been activated by the continuous, senseless deaths of Black people in this country,” Thompson said, before pausing for several beats as the crowd waited, silent. “White folks, it’s time to stay activated. To not begin wavering. To know where you’re going and who you’re supporting. To follow Black leadership. To allow Black people to organize.”
Cheers rang out. Thompson was speaking at Asheville’s March in Memory of Black Lives Lost to Police Violence, in a city that is 83% white. It was 12 days after the death of George Floyd and a day after what would’ve been Breonna Taylor’s 27th birthday.
Their killings shocked Thompson, who processed it internally, not attending any of the less-structured mass gatherings that formed downtown.
A former college classmate reached out to see if Thompson would speak at the march. Planned for June 6, the demonstration was set to be the city’s largest yet, and the first prominently led by local Black organizers.
Though initially apprehensive, Thompson agreed – and that decision opened doors to new relationships and new advocacy.
“Honestly, if it wasn’t for this uprise over George Floyd’s execution, I wouldn’t have these relationships with a lot of Black organizers, to call on my friends and just be able to share the same space and cry and be angry,” Thompson said.
Thompson joined a newly formed community group, Black AVL Demands, and met leaders of color who represented a range of ages, ethnicities and sexual orientations.
“I think the biggest thing for people to realize in this moment of racial justice is that all movement is part of the movement,” Thompson said. “The Black experience is not a monolith.”
WHAT BRYAN BELIEVES NEEDS TO HAPPEN IN ASHEVILLE
(asterisk) Defund the Asheville Police Department by at least 50%.
(asterisk) Invest more money into predominately Black communities.
(asterisk) Remove statues, street names and monuments, such as downtown’s Vance Monument, with ties to the Confederacy, slave-owning and notions of white supremacy.
(asterisk) Hold the Asheville Police Department, not just individual officers, more accountable following the use of violent or fatal force.
(asterisk) Have individuals check and correct their biases to allow for more empathy in the community.
BEYOND REPARATIONS: SPACES OF CELEBRATIONS AND JOY
Now more than two months removed from his speech downtown, Thompson hopes Asheville keeps listening.
Crowds at local protests slimmed throughout the summer, and Thompson worries momentum from early June has faded. “Show up and fill out,” Thompson advised. “It doesn’t just need to be when it’s convenient for you.”
The weekly Black AVL Demands meetings buoy Thompson’s spirits, and its intergenerational participation sparks hope within Thompson that the group can achieve transformative change.
Because members strive to reverse systematic racism - an arduous, time-consuming and often emotional task - Thompson tries to casually create space for the group to connect outside of meetings.
And advocacy work can be fun, too: On July 4, Thompson organized a march with Black youth organizers. In late July, they coordinated a three-day streaming concert featuring local musicians of color to raise money for area families affected by the pandemic.
“It shouldn’t just be us organizing, us mobilizing, us literally fighting every second of the day to exist,” Thompson said. “There should be spaces of celebration and joy.”
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