A Young Man's Brave Stand

On a Monday evening Connor rode the metro to the Foggy Bottom station and disembarked. He took the long escalator up from the underground, gazing at his palm. There in blue ink he had written an address: 1110 23rd Street NW. And underneath that he had written two words: Freedom Now. Since his father had taken away his phone, he had to resort to more primitive methods of note taking. It wasn’t so bad actually. Without a phone there was much less distraction and his parents could no longer track his whereabouts with the Find My Friends app. His carefree childhood reappeared, if only for a moment, but quickly dissolved when bombarded with thoughts of activism. Without the digital distraction, he could focus on achieving change. Not keyboard warriorship or digital activism. Real American change. And even get paid for it.

From the underground he emerged into the shadows of the cityscape. Tall buildings blocked the westward sun. Few pedestrians trudged along the street, a strange scene since downtown D.C. was built for — and often carried — heavy foot traffic. But that wasn’t the case now and hadn’t been for most of 2020. Seven months into the pandemic, the effects remained surreal. 

In a precise line, he walked vigorously down the street, like a man who needed to empty his bladder. With few cars circling the big roundabout, he crossed easily through Washington Circle, passing by the raised statue of a tall and lean George Washington atop a grand horse. Defacing this monument had been recently discussed, but another target seemed an easier test. He strolled through adorned in everyday American clothes — blue jeans, a plain grey sweatshirt, sunglasses, and a black backpack. He coughed into his mask and felt the wet particulates touching his lips. He pulled the mask down and wiped his mouth with the sweatshirt sleeve. His consciousness wasn’t full of wrath over Washington. Sure the man was a slave owner but defacing statues of the first President wasn’t an easy sell to Connor. He wanted to talk out his thoughts first, but who was there to talk to? Friendships were fleeting. He was twenty-one years young, and after flunking out of UVA, mostly on his own.

He continued another block and approached his destination. Upon arrival at the address, he punched in the apartment number and waited. A woman’s voice spoke, ‘Who is there?’

‘Hi. It’s Connor. Freedom Now.’ 

‘Okay,’ she replied. ‘When you hear the latch unlock, open the door and come to the eighth floor. I’ll meet you outside the elevator. And keep your mask on.’ 

Connor obeyed the instructions, and when the elevator doors opened, she was right there standing with hands on her hips. Her fingernails were painted red, as were her toenails, and her feet — smooth and petite — were perfectly situated into high heels with straps around her ankles. He was delighted by her appearance. He had never been with a woman. Never a drop of romance. 

‘Are you coming out or what?’

‘Uh, yeah. Sorry.’ He stepped onto the thin carpet of the hall.

‘Thank you. Now follow me.’

Connor had been caught in the loop of yesterday’s thoughts — his failure at college, the hatred of his father — but the sight of the young woman broke him free of negativity. All previous mental chatter was defeated by the swift invasion of his libido. He followed closely, watching her long dark curls bounce and swing as she swayed down the hall. She unlocked and opened the door into the apartment and he walked in. 

‘Go left,’ she said. 

He turned and moved past a dryer and washing machine and into a posh living room space. There was a large sectional sofa of white leather, a massive television somehow attached to the wall, and a small statute of — who was it? Karl Marx? Santa Claus was the only other comparable likeness, but knowing the mission, the statue was no doubt Marx. 

‘Please sit,’ the lovely lady said. ‘My name is Sarah. I’ve texted the boss and he’ll call in twenty minutes and chat with you.’ She removed her sand-colored blazer and hung it over a chair. Underneath she wore what first appeared as suspenders, but on closer inspection Connor saw it was a shoulder holster that housed some make of handgun at her left flank. She sat on a chic armchair and crossed her tan legs. ‘Again, please sit and wait comfortably.’

Connor smiled lovingly, though it was concealed by his mask. He heard a toilet flush and a door open. His head twisted. A young man shuffled from the bathroom, a man who seemed much manlier and perhaps a decade older. His forearms were tan, well-muscled, hairy. His face bearded, eyes and hair dark. 

‘I’m Kyle,’ he said. ‘And I’m your lead on this mission. Like Sarah said, we’ll have a call from the boss soon.’

Kyle sat down on the sofa and motioned for Connor to do the same. Connor nodded, removed his backpack, and settled into the squishy leather. 

‘I’m glad we found you,’ Kyle said, his voice proud and deep. ‘We’ve heard about your righteous activism at UVA. We’ve heard of your intolerance of confederate symbolism and white supremacist views. We understand you are a history buff and highly intelligent, yet you left UVA. Was college too easy?’

‘Well, you’ve outed me as a nerd,’ Connor laughed. ‘Yes … I was a history major. But I left since my father cut the funds out from under me. He cut me off from any and all allowances, any and all gifts, took away my car, my iPhone, but not my life.’

‘All stemming from your righteous activism?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Connor said, though it was only a half-truth. ‘My father is of a conservative mindset. He saw the content on my YouTube channel — my heartfelt content against confederate monuments and such. He is a military defense lawyer, after all. Though he means well, he is for the patriarchy.’

‘And what has become of your Adderall abuse?’

Connor’s eyes shot wide. How did Kyle know of this? ‘Well, I … I mean …’

‘Look, brother. You are a rising star of the new counter-culture. We have heard of you. We’ve viewed your content. And we definitely have connections in academia. We know a lot about you.’ 

 Connor hung his head.

 ‘Now don’t be defeated. Tonight is the first test. A test you will pass. Remember, this is what you want and something we need. Our forces must be stronger here in the nation’s capital. But we must be secretive, especially until Trump is voted out. In due time we will drive America toward socialism, hopefully further, and raise the downtrodden up toward a higher quality of life. This is a very noble mission.’

‘Indeed,’ Connor said, lifting his face. ‘As long as certain freedoms aren’t trampled.’

‘Certain freedoms will be trampled. There is no other way. Unless you want to join the wicked establishment.’

‘There are other ways.’

‘I don’t care. Now listen, symbols of oppression are numerous in this region. We must strategically topple them all. The bust of Washington on the GW campus will be first. It was toppled once in June. It must be done again and again until the point is well-taken.’

Connor shrugged, ‘But why Washington?’

‘Why Washington? Seriously?’

‘He was a slave owner, I know. But as a founding force of nature, Washington is in a safe area, is he not?’

‘No … God no. Washington was very much a slave owner. That’s all we need to know. He didn’t push for emancipation. He didn’t strive to free the black men and women and children under his ownership. The man held over three hundred slaves at one point in time. Three hundred! He wasn’t as two-faced as Jefferson, I’ll give you that, but he was no humanitarian godsend either.’

Connor removed his sunglasses and set them on the sofa. ‘Actually, he did free all of his slaves upon the death of his wife. That was in his Will. And he freed the slave William Lee upon his death, a man who was likely his best friend. He knew slavery was wrong and needed to be abolished. But he gave his vital energy to the fight for a free country, a country that would end slavery and fight a war to do it. He gave a great deal of energy to ending tyranny from Britain and fought to create a nation that could govern itself. It was overall a weak society at first, but grew in strength, and from there, moved correctly to abolish slavery altogether. Honestly, I just don’t see him as a proper target.’

‘I don’t understand the pushback here, Connor. You knew from the phone call that we were going to topple and deface monuments of white power. We’re starting with an easy one. The Washington bust on the corner of 23rd and F. Red spray paint, and if possible, shove the head off its platform. This is the trial run for many, many more.’

‘I apparently just see Washington differently. He faces the hard reality of being a slave owner. I can grant that. But the fight of his life was, well, as a nation creator. He primarily wanted to be a planter. And he knew slaves weren’t the answer. Slave labor wasn’t even profitable. He had to house and feed the workers. That was a big cost. He knew abolishment was on the way. Some states were doing it during his lifetime. It was a dying institution, not just for practical reasons, but for obvious humanitarian reasons. We can easily second guess the man, but I believe he was literally spent from his physically demanding life by the time his presidency was over. In other words, he had no fight left in him. Regardless, he did a good thing by declaring his slaves free upon Martha’s death. That may not be good enough for you in the 21st century, but in his era, and as a Virginian, it would have been quite radical.’

‘No, no, no,’ Kyle said, nostrils flaring. ‘I can’t accept this.’’

‘Maybe it’s a hard sell for you.’

‘It is. It very much is.’

Connor decided on a tactical change. ‘I saw Sarah had a gun. Do you have one too?’

‘What?’

‘A gun. Do you carry one?’

Kyle reached to the beltline near his lower back and produced a pistol. ‘It’s a Glock, 9mm, custom-made grip to fit my hand.’

‘So you’re for the 2nd Amendment then?’

‘Correct. I’m not against 2A. I know a ton of POCs who have firearms for self-defense.’

‘So you’re for gun rights, this large issue that is brought up often, but against the vast subjective cloud that is white power?’

‘White supremacy is the larger issue, especially when the President of the country is promoting it.’

‘Do you think Washington only had one issue on his plate at a time?’

‘Oh, I see what you’re doing. It won’t work with me.’

‘Okay, but let me finish. Washington led armies in the fight for freedom, and after that was won, he fought like hell to start a nation and get it off the ground. These were his causes and they were just causes. And by the time his presidency ended, he was drained. He died a couple years after he left office. So, the man is not a target, and in fact, I’m beginning to feel ashamed that I even entertained this idea.’

‘Washington is white power. He is lionized everywhere!’

‘So the lionization and history of the man oppresses modern Americans? Like who?’

‘Blacks,’ Kyle said. 

‘You’re not black though.’

‘No, I’m not, but are most of the activists you know black?’

‘Yeah … many are where I’ve worked. Many are done with confederate symbolism in America. But they are thirteen percent of the population, so other compassionate folk need to step up and help.’

‘Exactly. I agree. And we need to show power to topple white power and ultimately achieve our ideology.’

Connor crossed his arms. ‘I’m not in this for power. I’m in this to help unite people under the promises of liberty. Backing confederate symbolism is another form of tribalism. It’s betrayal against equal opportunity. And the history of these traitors is terrible. That’s what I oppose. Despite his flaws, which I think are few given his struggle, I don’t oppose George Washington.’

‘Godammit! Washington was a Southerner!’

‘Really? I believe Washington was way more American than Confederate. He was human, imperfect. He fought hard to create this nation of high ideals. It’s up to us to live up to them. So, for me, Washington is untouchable.’   

‘Okay, look. You’re speaking a bunch of bullshit. Let me ask you something: where are you living?’

‘Herndon. On the couch of a high school friend.’

‘Sounds embarrassing.’

‘Eh. I don’t know. It’s cool. I’m broke so it's very gracious of him. His parents are hard-working immigrants from India. They’re aware of my positions. We actually discussed Washington at dinner one night. They believe he was a virtuous individual.’

‘They’re not of slave descent so it doesn’t matter what they think.’

‘You just said that you’re not black either. So apparently your opinion no longer matters.’

‘This is foolish for me to discuss any further. The boss will be calling soon. You need to be all in on this, Connor. We are not working with nuance here. We have our program.’

Connor exhaled into his mask. He felt his covered face growing sweaty.

‘Sarah ... go get the cash.’

She stood, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she moved to another room. Within seconds she returned carrying a small safe. She handed it to Kyle and he placed his fingertips on the scanner display. ‘I’ve been authorized to give you this cash. One thousand dollars. You may count it if you’d like. I will advance you $200 now, and after the task is complete, we will rendezvous and I will provide the rest.’ 

Kyle handed over the unlocked safe and Connor looked at the contents, a stack of green bills emblazoned with the face of Ben Franklin.

‘Just don’t blow it all on drugs, boy,’ Kyle said, chuckling. 

‘You won’t accept my stance on Washington, so I can’t accept the money to do your work. I don’t want your job. I’m not for this cause. I am already working my way back from an addiction and I will work my way back into a reputable university and go on to law school. That beats your destructive vitriol and that beats prison.’

‘You’re throwing away a lot of money here, Connor. You’re throwing away the possibility of leading the new counter-culture.’

‘It appears you were expecting Fidel Castro but instead you got John Brown. Look, I don’t want what you want. I guess you’ll have to find another pawn.’

‘Sarah, enough waiting for the boss to call. See Connor to the door and out of the building. His mind is too weak for our lifework.’

‘Alright, Connor. Let’s go.’

Connor followed her again in silence, but once inside the elevator, she spoke. ‘I’ve never heard anyone talk to Kyle like that.’

‘Thank you … I guess.’

‘You’re welcome.'

They arrived in the lobby and walked side by side to the glass exit door.

‘I’ll come out with you for a minute,’ she said. ‘I need some air.’

Connor held the door for her and they stepped onto the sidewalk, into the D.C. dusk.

‘You have a way with words,’ she said. ‘I admire your stance.’

He couldn’t ever remember being complimented by a woman. ‘Thank you, Sarah, but I’m totally broke. I just turned down $1,000. I don’t have a phone or a car right now. I’m like, in purgatory, it seems … but it is helping me think more clearly.’

‘Are you available Saturday around noon?’

‘Really? What do you mean?’

‘I want to hear more of your thoughts. And since you don’t have a phone …’

‘Okay. Yeah, yeah. Of course. Yeah, I’m available. But where? Should I bring food? I can prepare a meal at my friend’s apartment. I can bring it with me on the metro and we can eat and talk in a park.’

‘That sounds nice,’ she said. ‘Except I’ll bring food. I like to cook. I’m very good at it.’

‘Saturday at noon. That’ll be great. How about in front of the Washington Monument?’

Sarah smiled and tilted her head, ‘I can’t wait.’