There are two histories which have always battled each other, publicly and loudly: domination’s history—the history of the class in position to dominate the masses—and the people’s history, which is the history of colonized and oppressed peoples struggling and triumphing from the ground up. Between these two histories, narrative and autobiographical writings have been a key tool in correctively challenging the historical narratives placed onto oppressed and colonized people, from the era-defining writing found in Malcolm X’s autobiography, to the consciousness-shaping contours of Assata Shakur’s Assata. And still, one must wonder if such a definitive, important piece of autobiographical writing has come from our generation yet, or if any attempts have been made. However, as we move into a new generation characterized by celebrity activists steeped in social media rather than intellectual study, it seems domination’s recent history finds a comfortable bedfellow in the work of some high-profile activists, including activist DeRay Mckesson’s On the Other Side of Freedom: The Case for Hope.
Who Is DeRay Mckesson?
In an incredibly short time, DeRay Mckesson — in his branded blue vest — has become almost synonymous with the Black Lives Matter movement for many outside observers.
Mckesson is, as Mychal Denzel Smith recently put it, a frustrating figure. To people on almost all places on the political spectrum, aside from the liberal center, he is controversial. On the left he’s often described as a “neoliberal” whose entanglement with celebrities and Hollywood signify a covert love affair with capitalism, and whose oversimplification of inequalities seems to be designed to cater to white liberals. In addition, those on the left have critiqued Mckesson’s practice of consistently perching himself above the Ferguson Uprising, contrary to the wishes of Ferguson residents. For those on the right, DeRay’s very existence as a Black, gay activist speaking…