Million Hoodies Fundraiser Raises Money, Optimism & Cynicism for BLM Movement
By Everic White
Photos By Dwight Witty
When the last tune was played, the last raffle drawn, the last poem read, the last drink imbibed at Minton’s Playhouse on Tuesday, little changed ostensibly. While the Million Hoodies for Justice Black Tie Fundraiser was a success, no suit-, gown- or dashiki-wearing attendee had illusions about the ongoing saga of black and brown Americans suffering at the hand of the criminal justice system and police violence.
The fundraiser in Harlem drew businessmen, communist revolutionaries and corporate sponsors together to promote infrastructure and bring greater financial legitimacy to an organization marked by the article of clothing in its name. One Million Hoodies for Justice began in 2012 in the wake of the killing of Trayvon Martin. His death sparked protests around the country, and many of the protesters donned hooded sweatshirts in solidarity with the Martin family.
With the surge of black men and women involved in unlawful killings, the organization places the utmost importance on solidarity. The eventgoers gathered to support the building of “a hyperlocal political infrastructure that can develop a leadership of young black and brown people,” according to Dante Barry, executive director of Million Hoodies.
Infrastructure comes with costs, though. The promise of new financial means adds the pressure of meeting donors’ expectations, according to Kirsten John Foy, President of the Brooklyn Chapter of the National Action Network. As a leader in what he and Barry call a “legacy civil rights” organization, Foy implied that upstart groups should be wary of new money entering their organizations.
“Someone has to sign the check. Someone has to have their name on the paper as the treasurer or president,” he said. “Once you do that, you now have a hierarchical structure. At the end of the day someone is in charge.” Having a hierarchical structure and figureheads, though, flies in the face of what Million Hoodies and other Black Lives Matter groups strive for. Barry, like many other activists, asserted that the “movement for black lives is decentralized” and that it is “leaderful” rather than a leaderless movement.
Some eventgoers cast doubt as to whether movements without leaders can keep up their momentum without a traditional infrastructure. “There has always been a relationship between financial structure and social justice organizers,” said Brandon Andrews, a former Senate staffer. Kira Williams, another attendee, said “We need to work within the system to beat the system.”
That system now includes corporate sponsorship and donations. Airbnb was listed as a donor, and during the event, Ben & Jerry’s handed out ice cream from a branded kiosk. Eventgoers were surprised at the latter company’s presence that night, even with its history of taking a liberal stance on social justice issues. Brandon Black, an actor in “Dear White People” and HBO’s “Insecure,” said, “It’s cool to see them not just sending out press releases like other companies, and actually backing up their talk.”
Some, were still cynical about the prospects of change raised by the event. Jamel, a socialist spoken word performer at the fundraiser, said that “events like this don’t affect black people directly,” and that they “only raise money, not stop police violence.” Brandon Andrews voiced concern about the perception of the event and Million Hoodies. “Events like these are great in that they leave an imprint, but they make people look at Million Hoodies like they should without resources.”
Negative perception of hooded black and brown people never seemed to cross the minds of the eventgoers, though. Barry was quick to dismiss the idea of respectability politics, especially as Million Hoodies continues its mission. “Young black people don’t believe you need to be respectable in the eyes of white folks to bring about change,” he said. “The police will still kill you in a suit and tie.”