MLK, Minnesota, and the Battle to Define America

Peaceful protest isn’t un-American. It’s one of the most American things there is.

Jack, my four-year-old son, has been learning about Martin Luther King Jr. in his preschool. This has led to many very deep bath- and bedtime conversations about the man, his legacy, and an American past that’s impossible for a four-year-old to fathom.

And it’s hard to have those conversations right now—while watching what’s happening in Minnesota—without feeling the past pressing in on the present.

“Daddy, why were Black kids and White kids not allowed to play together?”

“Who made that a law? Why did people think that was ever okay?”

“Why did someone shoot Martin Luther King if all he wanted was for people to be nice to each other?”

These are all great questions, even if there are no easy answers for anyone—let alone a four-year-old.

When you have these conversations with young kids, you want to reassure them that this kind of oppression is in the past and that we live in a better, more enlightened time.

I have never been more grateful that Jack is too young to ask the follow-up questions.

Against the backdrop of these conversations, at the end of days spent watching videos of masked ICE agents assaulting citizens for the crime of walking in the wrong neighborhood, having the wrong accent, or espousing the wrong political beliefs, it’s hard not to see the obvious parallels.

Just like in the time of Martin Luther King Jr., standing between ICE officers and the people they are targeting are brave Americans peacefully protesting and practicing civil disobedience.

In response, the Trump Administration has called these peaceful protestors terrorists and paid instigators. They have attacked and arrested them, and they are threatening to send the U.S. military to put down the protests.

The language and the response portray these protestors as un-American, as disloyal, as traitors to their country.

But that could not be more wrong.

The Battle to Define America

At its core, politics is a battle to define American values. There is a story coming from Trump and the Right: to be truly American, you must have been in this country for generations—the longer, the better. The true patriots descended from those who arrived on the Mayflower.

The implication, often made explicit, is that “real Americans” are White, Christian, and mostly male. Everyone else is an interloper. These Americans hold the power, and anyone who threatens to take that power and distribute it more broadly is a threat—and a traitor.

This is the core of what MAGA is about: Make America Great Again by taking us back to the time before the Civil Rights movement. In their view, patriotism is obedience to the state.

But there is another version of this story. The one I believe.

Those peaceful protestors in Minnesota, bravely risking their lives and their livelihoods, are the ultimate patriots. They are the ones who believe that, despite all of its flaws—past, present, and future—our country is worth fighting for.

As President Obama said on the 50th anniversary of the march on Selma:

What could more profoundly vindicate the idea of America than plain and humble people –- unsung, the downtrodden, the dreamers not of high station, not born to wealth or privilege, not of one religious tradition but many, coming together to shape their country’s course?

What greater expression of faith in the American experiment than this, what greater form of patriotism is there than the belief that America is not yet finished, that we are strong enough to be self-critical, that each successive generation can look upon our imperfections and decide that it is in our power to remake this nation to more closely align with our highest ideals?

This might be my favorite speech Obama ever gave. It’s certainly the one I return to most often, because it embodies the core premise of his political philosophy: change only happens when everyday Americans decide to come together and make it happen.

That’s what’s happening in Minnesota. And it’s not just the protestors. It’s the lawyers representing the people arrested and detained on a pro bono basis. It’s the people shopping and running errands for neighbors who are afraid to leave their homes because ICE might target them because of what they look like.

And it’s what’s happening all across the country in the year since Trump assumed office. As we sit here today, Trump is weaker than ever before. Many of his worst efforts have been beaten back, his lies exposed, and his power diminished at the ballot box.

This didn’t happen because of a bunch of politicians in Washington, DC or powerful elites from Wall Street, Hollywood, Silicon Valley, or academia. In fact, it happened despite those people.

It was everyday citizens working hard to, as Martin Luther King Jr. said, “bend the arc of the moral universe towards justice.”

I know this newsletter is usually more analytical and perhaps a little more cynical, but Minnesota and these conversations with my son about Martin Luther King Jr.—have made me very grateful for all of you, and for the opportunity we have together to defeat MAGA and build a better, fairer, more just country.

It’s why we are all here. It’s why we do the work. And it’s what makes being an American so great.