Say Something Real
By Michelle Bryant
Michelle Bryant
For nearly 20 years, I’ve made an annual summer trek to Martha’s Vineyard. Missing two years for work on political campaigns, it was great to return this year. I am often teased about the perceived “snooty” or bourgeois nature of vacationing on this island, located in Massachusetts, roughly 7 miles off the coast of Cape Cod. However, five minutes on the ferry to Oak Bluffs, I am quickly reminded why this sojourn is so important to me. It represents nourishment, education, strategy, and camaraderie, particularly in this current political season.
I feel a unique thrill—a sense of coming home to a sanctuary built by generations who looked like me, dreamed like me, and dared to create a space for Black excellence. This place represents a resilience and a celebration of our intellectual and cultural wealth. Here, on shaded porches and bustling Circuit Avenue, there are knowing nods, smiles and conversations that reinvigorate me for the battles of the world beyond the island’s shores.
Yet, as visitors head to the sun-drenched Inkwell Beach or linger over coffee at Mocha Mott’s, we all understand the shadow cast by Donald Trump’s presidency and policies. For all its comfort and community, Oak Bluffs does not shield Black Americans from systemic problems faced by our community. It strengthens our insight, steadies our back, and inspires our collective determination.
As the island buzzes with the presence of scholars, artists, politicians, and entrepreneurs, policy, and activism are as common as sea breezes. In this enclave, I think about the limits of wealth and privilege in protecting Black Americans from the first, most visible marker of identity: race. In the age of Trump and the great old days of America, we are reminded that race and class are both social constructs—yet, they land differently for Black and White Americans.
For White Americans, class may be a primary factor in how they are seen and treated. But for Black Americans, race often comes first. Since the November 2024 election, this dynamic has intensified. The current administration’s attacks on voting rights, open flirtation with white nationalism, and relentless scapegoating of communities of color have made it clear: regardless of financial status, Blackness can be a target. We saw it in the vilification of Black athletes, the disregard for Black lives lost to police violence, and the disregard for cities with Black leadership or large Black and Brown populations.
Trump’s actions are not just political; they are a social and psychological assault that reverberates in Black communities of every class. The Vineyard may be a haven, but it is not a fortress. The struggle for justice and dignity remains the great equalizer. So while on the island, when you run into the mother of Breonna Taylor, sit in on a panel made up of five Black state Attorney Generals, worship with Pastor Jamal Bryant, or meet some of the Texas state legislators, that have fled the state to protect the voters they representative, you appreciate Martha’s Vineyard for reasons that extend beyond recreation or rest.
We don’t get to take a vacation from the assaults on our humanity, community, culture and history. We multitask, able to lie on a beach, eyes closed and eyes open, all at the same time.