(I did my best to write down all of the names of the speakers, but I'm sure I got some spellings wrong. If you're reading this and have any corrections, please drop them in the comments. My goal here is to amplify the voices I heard, and I cannot do so nearly as effectively if we don't know whose voices they are.)
The vigil was at Greeley Park on Concord Street, which the city closed off for the duration. Not only was Concord Street lined with cars, but I and my companion noticed that basically every single side street was well. Somewhat amusingly, there were still spaces at the park itself, but we allowed that it was all right as they'd need them for some of the more elderly attendees, as well as those with families. There were easily over a thousand people in attendance, after all.
Everyone took some pains to keep socially distant, and everyone was masked. I saw a fair number of people who had their noses sticking out the top of their mask, but, well, that's gonna happen. We're new to this, we're all new to this.
Police presence was minimal - I spotted six officers, and three or four plain clothes officers, and the chief of police was also present. About halfway through the event, a helicopter began circling overhead - I never got a good look at it, but I suspect it was a news helicopter as there was a persistent, though relatively small media presence.
We took up position under a tree with some friends from work and waited for the event to get underway.
First of all, I mentioned this on Facebook, but if you really think that BLM is funded by George Soros, let me assure you that the man is a skinflint on a level that would make Scrooge McDuck think he was a too tight in the purse-strings. They couldn't get the first mic to work, and Jordan, the organizer, attempted to rally the crowd by yelling through a vastly undersized megaphone. He introduced two clergy members, whose names I didn't get, and, well, the first guy didn't have any problems at all.
He prayed for peace, for understanding, for change and for the Lord's guidance. The second clergy person tried to use a megaphone with her mask on. It worked about as well as you'd expect, which is a shame.
The first speaker was Annie Kuster - as I said to my travelling companion, "Hey, it's that lady from my voicemail!" - and while I fault her for a lot of things, I can't fault her for enthusiasm. She charged the stage with that janky mic in hand and belted out a greeting to everyone, ending with a cry of, "Black Lives Matter!" Everyone applauded, as you do, and a guy up front jumped up and started trying to lead a chant of "All Lives Matter."
He was escorted from the premises by a lone officer. As I observed later, I suspect he was not arrested for anything, but that was entirely within his control. Jordan took the stage again and that was when it was made clear to the non-Black folks in the crowd that they were guests in the space tonight, and this was a place for Black voices and experiences. Which is fair. I mean, it's in the name of the event and everything, so it shouldn't've been a surprise to anyone.
The first speaker was Melanie Levesque, senator for the 12th District of New Hampshire. She spoke in measured tones about the Pettus Bridge march during the Civil Rights era, tied it into the demonstrations in the wake of George Floyd's death and wrapped back around to talking about the systemic issues from the 60s that persist into the present day. While she said that, "the vast majority of law officers are good and just," they are part of a system that makes racial disparity inevitable. She closed with a quote from Barack Obama, "Don't boo, vote."
Next up was Jim Dunchess, the mayor of Nashua, who read a prepared proclamation. I haven't been able to find the text of the proclamation as of this writing, but it was good to see a high official of the city present there. He was calm and conciliatory, every measure a politician, but the sort that seems to actually be getting good done in his city, to look at his record.
Third was Linda Gathright. She spoke for only slightly longer than Annie Kuster, but spoke powerfully. She is the Clerk on criminal justice for the town, and asked that anyone with concerns about interactions with the police let her know about those issues. She called for us, and for the BLM movement to focus on "actionable policies and reforms," ending her speech with the admonition that "black lives are not disposable."
Shoshanna Kelly spoke fourth, and while the others certainly were emotional at times, she started by telling us, "I'm going to try to get through this without crying," and seemed to manage to do so only by speaking with great passion. She talked about George Floyd's daughter saying, "Daddy changed the world," and charged all of us to prove her right. She also spoke in less than glowing terms about the president, and said that "A leader is not elected ... a leader is what you do," and charged us with things that we could do to lead. It was getting dim out at this point, and I was writing in a tiny notebook, so I might've missed one or two, but the gist is:
1. Buy from a Black-owned business
2. Donate
3. Read a book from a black author
4. Listen
5. Come to a Community Conversation*
6. Talk to your kids
7. Ask questions
8. Vote.
On that last one, she commented that, "voting is the difference between fighting the system and changing the system." She closed with, "Black lives are worth it, and America is worth it."
Elaine Davis then came out and sang, "Rise Up," a capella, over a janky microphone on a warm, windy early summer day. She killed it.
Next was Grace Kandecki, who was introduced as a "youth," but carried herself with enviable poise. She was born in the Congo, but spent most of her life in the States. She talked about systemic racism as being an abstract set of standards, cultural norms and laws that produce unequal opportunity for people "of colour," and spoke against increase militarisation.
Kurt Burtram might've been my favourite speaker of the night, if I had to choose. He used humour in the best possible way: to disrupt. His jokes were only occasionally intended to lighten the mood and were usually aimed at the non-Black members of the audience as a friendly but pointed barb. He talked a lot about his family and friends, his personal experiences with racism in New Hampshire. As he put it, "I know who I am: I am not a threat to you." He closed with what seemed to be a gag, doing a genuinely terrible impression of Louis Armstrong as he croaked out, "What A Wonderful World," throwing in jokes about how he'll "only see friends shaking hands after Covid." When we were done singing with him. He put the mic back on the stand and said, simply, "And I think to myself, 'what a wonderful world.'" And left.
Jaden Smith followed up with a poem, whose title I didn't catch. The overall theme was pondering the notion of living in a "world where everyone's colour blind," and how that wouldn't fix the problems that we think it would, ending with a stanza in which she exclaimed her pride and self-worth.
Next was Kendall Reyes, a former NFL defensive end. He spoke unguardedly about his own failures to properly serve the Black community he came from, but said, "We're all here because we want to do better," ending with an admonition that everyone there donated $10 to a cause, or spent 1 hour a week volunteering, we could make a difference.
Nala Doyle was not soft-spoken as she exclaimed that the problem with police wasn't a few bad apples, but a rotten tree, and advocated for demilitarisation of the police and the removal of qualified immunity.
Samantha Searles, the Communications Director for Black Lives Matter Nashua, gave a memorable introduction: "I came from black slaves that could not be killed, a Cherokee who would not be moved, and a white man who loved a black woman before it was legal." She never let the foot off of the gas, going hard after the racist comments of Manchester alderman Joseph Kelly Levasseur, the current president and a lynching in Claremont*. She ended with the argument that, "If you really want change, vote or, better yet, run for office yourself. With what happened in 2016, lack of experience or ability is no longer an argument."
Hutch Mosely is an 8th grader and he's kind of incredible. He spoke with gravitas and ability well beyond his years when he said, "We can be angry all we want, or we can stand up and make a change," closing with a quote from Barack Obama: "We are the change we seek."
Alana Shoat opened with thanks to the crowd, saying, "I've never felt to at home in my community and I've been her my whole life." She talked about the inadequacy of a single month, the shortest in the year, for Black History month, and that the struggle for civil rights was, "not about black people versus white people anymore, or about left versus right anymore, it's about all of us versus injustice," closing with the observation that, "All lives cannot matter until black lives do."
The closing speaker was Jamila Ashanti Scale, who read from a statement that was very powerful and moving - my pull-quote was an admonition to the spirit of George Floyd that "justice will be served and you will not be forgotten." As she spoke, a rainstorm started, and a rainbow formed behind the bandstand she spoke from.
The event closed with a series of statements from Jordan, the organizer of the event, recapping a lot of the points already made, and observing, "We can boo and vote; I think we can multitask," and talked extensively about his radicalization at the death of Sandra Bland, and how mobilized he and the rest of his online friends felt in that moment.
Throughout the even, the victims of injustice were named almost a hundred times - George Floyd, Ahmad Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Philando Castile, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland and a dozen others.
Apart from the one gentleman who tried to disrupt the event, is was entirely peaceful. I've felt more threatened picking up take-out, which makes me think of Alana Shoat, and makes me hope for a day when she can feel the kind of security I'm privileged to feel every day.
* Police found there was no hate crime because the other kids had put the loop of rope around their necks too, there wasn't proof one of the other boys pushed the black boy with the intent of hanging him, and there were no racial epithets on that specific occasion, although there had been in the past.
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