HU Resist, a small student organizing group on campus, had been envisioning and planning what student power on Howard’s campus could look like for months. We frequently discussed what it would mean for black students to run a black university their way. Most often in our minds, that idea realized itself in the form of an Administration Building takeover, reminiscent of those staged by students in 1968 and 1989. As an organization and as black people, we tended to look to our elders and ancestors for guidance. And since the such demonstrations had yielded such monumental results in the past, it only made sense in our minds to follow in their footsteps in the symbolic year of the ‘68 takeover’s 50th anniversary.
Our collective is made up of a small leadership body and the general body. Over the course of the past year, we have created initiatives, which are projects intended to enrich and advancement black people in and outside of the Howard community. Our initiatives include: youth mentorship program based in a nearby high school, our pantry project, where we feed dozens of houseless people in the Shaw Howard area weekly, our zoning initiative, where we combat gentrification in the Shaw Howard area perpetuated by our own university, a resident survey, which we helped us better plan our initiatives around the needs of the surrounding communities and more. We also have staged two protests at school events, the most notable of which being our 2017 Fall Convocation protest.
Last spring, I chose Howard because of the principles and ideas that HU Resist held. Being a part of the club was one of the few times I felt like myself and the people around me were truly reaching into the community and doing good for others with no ulterior motive of our own. There were no community service hours to be earned, there were no cameras, no extra funding, no proud faculty members smiling down at us in Howard gear. If anything, being in HU Resist brought us nothing but condescension and disdain from our classmates, and pure wrath and fury from administrators. Our university has a history of quietly removing student activists through “financial aid mishaps,” “missed deadlines” and other administrative “mishaps.” And HU Resist has many naysayers and skeptics, after receiving backlash from students and faculty alike after this year’s convocation protest.
But still, with small numbers and big hopes, we continued through a rough year for Howard. The ruining of Douglass and many other important buildings on campus, the further deterioration of the dorms, our president suggesting that students dislike him because of his nationality in a very public article in a well respected publication and other incidents in the first month of second semester slowly stirred the student body. Then, in March, the interest in student advocacy and organizing on campus exploded after the on-campus housing crisis. This crisis left hundreds of students unsure if they would receive on campus housing next year, when all sophomore students had been already promised housing due to a requirement enforced by the university. Many of these students were denied housing because of errors made by the university during the lottery process and their failure to clearly express the housing deposit deadline. We held a rally outside of the A Building in response to this and a band-aid was placed on the problem by administrators, but students were still wildly frustrated.
Almost a month later, the night that the news about the financial aid embezzlement scandal broke was a complete frenzy. Group chats were flooded with the Medium articles, the residence halls were buzzing and Howard Twitter was ablaze with commentary. Dozens of students showed up to our meeting the following night, fed up and ready to achieve change by whatever means necessary. We told them about our nine demands, which we had released the previous Sunday, concerning housing, tuition hikes, counseling services on campus, campus police and the democratization of the university. We had worked since the beginning of the semester to create these demands by surveying hundreds of students, having seen the struggles we had faced at Howard, especially during this academic year, and wanting to being working on issues that were most important to students. After this was discussed, we began to plan the takeover, which would happen the following afternoon.
Once our occupation had been initiated, many more students joined our cause at the building during the first afternoon of the takeover, bringing their own frustration, concerns, and readiness to create change. However, regardless of how we came to participate in student activism, we did it, coming together to achieve the longest A Building takeover in Howard history. But more importantly, we were able to create a truly equitable and free space in the community that we built within the A Building, which we later renamed the Kwame Ture Student Center (KTSC).
The first afternoon, we wore our best outfits, propped open all front doors, blasted music, did chants and invited anyone passing by to come in and join us. We were beyond elated. For so long, our school had pushed us around and made us feel like every aspect of our education and our lives was out of our control. And that day, we physically reclaimed our school and celebrated knowing that the physical act was just a foot in the door, the first punch thrown in the fight for our university and our futures. We celebrated knowing that we were going to win because no one had expected us to even make it this far. We celebrated knowing our power, feeling it in full force at the moment, and how far we were about to go.
As we went into the first evening, we established ground rules for the space, prioritizing safety and comfortability. All bathrooms in the building became “gender liberated,” meaning that a person of all gender identities could use any bathroom they liked. Every floor was also designated a role. The third floor was the quiet studying and sleeping area, second floor was the women/femme only space, first floor was a general common area. As the week went on and we secured all 6 floors of the building, each area began to develop cultures and identities of their own. The ground floor featured a LGBTQ+ community and sleeping area and basement became our art gallery. Staircases became impromptu open mics, staff kitchens became organizing offices, and real offices became medic rooms and sick bays.
In this space, we were also able to introduce people to lifestyle outside of the ones allowed in capitalism. Because we had so many generous supporters from across the country, scarcity and competition became nearly non-existent in the space. The abundance of donations allowed us to make sure that everyone who entered the space was fed and had a pillow and blanket to sleep on, even if they entered with nothing, no matter how long they had been there, how long they planned to stay, or why they had come. We had students who told us that being in the KTSC was the first time they had access to consistent and quality fresh produce on campus, and we had many who joked that we ate better in the KTSC than we did in on campus cafes.
In my opinion, we left on April 6th having conceived something much greater than what the few hundred students in the building ever could've imagined. We were able to recreate activism in our own image, but we were able to recreate the black community in our own image as well.
During our time there, we held healing and meditation circles frequently, to make sure that everyone was caring for themselves emotionally and spiritually despite all the stress we were under during those nine days. We also invited members of the Office of the Chapel to enter and hold Easter service. We had tutoring, teach-ins, and discussions to ensure that students were staying up educationally and mentally. And much to the dismay of our critics, we allowed joy to be present in the space whenever possible. We blasted music well into the nights, we had a stroll show, and we celebrated each passing day like the accomplishment that it was.
As a collective, we had a zero tolerance policy for misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and ageism. These were principles that HU Resist had always operated by. Our community agreements focused on making sure that there was respect above all else. Another main focus of our community agreements was equity of voice, which meant prioritizing marginalized people in the space. and it was impossible to function as a collective without bringing that stance with us to the space.
Marginalized people within the black community have been and still are erased from our history, especially when they are involved in black rights and liberation movements. And for those whose contributions are deemed too important to ignore, the more “distasteful” aspects of their identity are omitted. But historically not only in student activism, but activism as whole, black women and queer people show up and they show out. Even if they are pushed away from the forefront, they are always deep in the masses. The foundations that they lay and the sacrifices they make for us are never acknowledged enough but we would have nothing without them. And young people always play large roles in inciting change in our community. SNCC was a group of college students just like us, and the Black Panther Party was also full of young and hopeful spirits.
In the KTSC, it was impossible for black women, gender non-conforming people, and queer folks to be removed from the history of what we were doing. They were at the forefront of our work, and they were actively shaping our culture on the inside. A large majority of HU Resist leadership consists of freshman, most of whom are women, femme, and/or queer. So it became crucial to not just respect those leaders who were historic figures and role models to us, but to respect the living reflections of them who were following those paths in the present. This was a tough pill for many to swallow in the beginning, but it was able to be done, especially after implementing a zero tolerance policy on misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and ageism towards fellow students.
Within our space, we were also able to highlight other forms of activism and roles for those who wanted to contribute. Not all of us are orators or diplomats or strategists, but all of us have skills that can uplift our community, whether we realize it or not. Often times, we believe that in order to be an agent of change, our contributions have to affect society on a massive scale. But even the smallest of cultural shifts can bring us closer to our goal. Inside, we all pledged a commitment not only to the cause, but to the collective body, and that is what carried us through those nine days. People took up jobs on door duty, food distribution, cleanup, in-house security, activity planning, and they took those jobs seriously. Whether they knew how crucial they were to the cause or whether they really just had the spirit to serve, their contributions made our success as much as anyone else’s.
In the Kwame Ture Student Center, we were able to paint a picture of what true black liberation will look like. It was a beautiful picture, even if it was hazy and smudged and unfinished in places. Although we were imperfect and unprepared for the power of our collective, that taste of what we could truly achieve has provided inspiration, motivation, and comfort for many. Students at Texas State University and Anacostia High School have also cited us as inspiration for their own student movements, and students at other HBCUs have offered their solidarity and support.
The most innovative and important result of our work was not born from our original intent of the A Building takeover. Something like this only appeared in our the wildest dreams about what organizing could bring about for our community. Never did I think that I would see it in my lifetime, or any time soon after I get the chance to look down on this Earth when I become an ancestor myself, but for a brief moment, we had it, a microcosm of freedom for all black people.
“Our demands are radical. What we’re doing inside, that’s the revolution,” said Omavi Minder, one of my co-organizers during our occupation. Those words will ring in my mind every time I think back on those nine days.
As a prospective Bison last year, I was so proud to have the opportunity to attend the great Mecca. I never wanted anything else. And after eight long, hard months, when every trial tested our loyalty and our strength, I finally took my hajj. I was able to see the Mecca of my own making, of our own making, and it is so much bigger than just Howard University. And I will never stop looking to recreate that beauty. All of us deserve our hajj.
