Multiple forms of resistance and civil protest can be used. An afro is a statement or act of political protest that can be used in certain circumstances by one person (see the Black Panther Movement). Two young Black legislators demonstrated this week the subtle power and flexibility of self-fashioning, which challenges norms.
The national hubbub started on March 30 when Tennessee legislators Justin J. Jones (of Nashville) and Rep. Justin Pearson (of Memphis), disrupted the statehouse proceedings using megaphones. They also led protests calling to tighten gun control after a massacre at The Covenant School, Nashville. This demonstration broke away from the political inertia surrounding this long-debated topic and was featured on national news. “We occupied the House floor today after repeatedly being silenced from talking about the crisis of mass shootings,” Jones wrote on TwitterShortly after the protests ended, this was taken by Sharon. “We could not go about business as usual as thousands were protesting outside demanding action.”
Protests in the streets were an effective and attention-grabbing display of civil disobedience. But, in many ways, Jones and Pearson were already bucking against the so-called status quo of the Republican-controlled chambers—in part through their sartorial choices, which have included afros, pristine white suits, and dashikis. Think about the Republican-led vitriol that Obama could have received if he had worn a tansuit. Or a dashiki?
Republican lawmakers quickly responded. On Thursday, Jones and Pearson were expelled by the House. Crossville Speaker Cameron Sexton compared Jones’ protests to insurrection. This means the lawmakers’ seats have become vacant and, because the 2024 general election is more than 12 months away, a special election could be held to fill their seats. Justin Jones, who is of Filipino and Black descent, delivered a nearly 20-minute defense before the vote took place, calling the affair a “lynch mob assembled—to lynch not me, but our democratic process.” He immediately stood out in the sea of drab-colored suits and closely cropped haircuts through his white suit, hoop earring, and long curls that were loosely pulled back into a ponytail.
Ditto: Pearson. A big, bushy afro was the hallmark of this 29-year old lawmaker. He wore a black and white dashiki with his tie and crisp white button down. Over it, he wore a navy blue blazer. Here were two men of color tinkering with the standard politician’s uniform and transforming it into something decidedly more personal and attuned to who they are. Even more striking was the fact that they were being removed from the space where they wanted to make changes.