John Lewis, the Stoic
A reflection on a moment I witnessed during the 2011 Occupy Atlanta protest
In 2011, I was dabbling in #photojournalism quite a bit as part of my bounce back from cancer (the “try new things” stage). I jumped at the chance to shoot photos of at least a half-dozen civil events around #Atlanta over two years.
These photos were taken during the Occupy Atlanta protests in October 2011 at Woodruff Park in downtown (this was from the Friday night gathering). An offspring of the Occupy Wall Street protests that were taking place in New York over income and tax inequality, the Atlanta movement was barely a week old at this point and just starting to pitch tents and stake temporary roots at the park. The group’s agenda largely diverted from the original “Occupy” goal and focused largely on social injustice — specifically surrounding the execution of Troy Davis. Davis was executed by the state weeks earlier for the 1989 shooting death of a Savannah police officer, but the case drew national attention and appeals for clemency because of doubt regarding his guilt in light of seven of nine witnesses who recanted or changed their original testimony.
Hundred upon hundreds gathered that night at Piedmont Park, possibly a thousand showing up at one point before sundown. The guy with the bullhorn was a panicky, erratic organizer who spent more time telling everyone to shut up than he did actually leading discussion, usually jumping up and down and he shouted.
“… I don’t think there is a greater Stoic than John Lewis.”
Suddenly, as if from out of nowhere, #JohnLewis appeared among the supposed organizers, hoping to speak to the crowd. Oddly, one or two of the protesters who had been granted the opportunity to speak suggested that John Lewis didn’t have the right to speak at the time because “he isn’t inherently more valuable” than anyone in the park that evening.
There was an attempt to bring him back later for some kind of “other business” portion of the group’s agenda, but Lewis had a scheduling conflict and could not attend. He later made a public statement of support for the effort, adding that he was not disappointed that he couldn’t speak to the group and recognized that they were trying to engage in the fight for peace in similar fashion to how past movements had done.
Some freelance press, other photographers and I were circled and standing around the back of the sitting protesters. A few of us mumbled or even shouted (my preference) that the group needed to stop and listen to John Lewis. If there was ever an ally at the federal level to have in their mission, it was him.
But most of the crowd attending were young … TOO young to understand that no one understood what they were trying to accomplish better than the quiet man standing before them with his hands clasped close and personifying patience and mindfulness before their very eyes.
I had never seen someone command such a quiet presence in the middle of a storm. The modesty of John Lewis exuded was an understatement. He was a man built by experience very few people in history had ever lived.
I’ve spent a number of years reading about the ancient Stoics and their philosophies. I’ve read reading after reading from the likes of Marcus Aurelius and Seneca as I hope to hone wisdom from the past in order to determine my own life’s wisdom as I get older.
But in these times, I don’t think there is a greater Stoic than John Lewis. And I now feel so very fortunate to have been an eyewitness to this small moment in his powerful story.
