“What are you uncomfortable with?”

On Wednesday, June 3rd, 2020, a group of 60-70 peaceful protesters gathered in Whitefish.

A group of Montanans, carrying signs, wearing masks, and chanting “peaceful,” were met with a tirade of hate from one man: Jay Snowden. A portion of his rage-induced verbal assault was captured by Grace Jensen, and in that three-minute video was one moment 15 seconds in. The 51-year-old White male made his way around the group, screaming profanities inches away from protesters’ faces, when he came up to Samantha Francine, a Black woman from Whitefish. Her sign has a simple plea: Say Their Names, surrounded by the names of Black men and women who have been killed by members of the police.

With his hands in fists so tight you could see the veins in his arms, Snowden approached Francine, screaming into her face: “F*ck you! F*ck you!”. In the video that’s now made its way around the world, she lifted her sunglasses to look Snowden in the eye.

No matter who the threat is, no matter what the threat is, you look them in the eye so that they know you’re human.

Growing up, Samantha Francine’s father instilled that wisdom. Instead of the usual “be safe, make friends!” a lot of us received as we left for school, Samantha’s dad taught her and her brothers how to stay safe. “If you’re grabbing something in a store, [make it so that] people know you’re not stealing,” she recalls. Even now, as a 27-year-old woman, Samantha finds herself being followed in Whitefish stores on a regular basis. “I had gotten so used to it that I even stopped caring. ‘It’s normal, it’s okay, they’re ignorant.’ But I’ve allowed that, too, so I have to take responsibility for that.”

This is just the beginning, though— local and national coverage have catapulted Samantha onto an incredibly public stage, and she’s determined to use that space to keep the conversation surrounding race moving forward.

“This moment— having my voice heard the way that it’s being heard— is so amazing. It’s so motivating. There is the fear of what’s next, how do I keep this going? …But this doesn’t end here for me. Now that I’m here, I’m going to be here.”

Protests over the murder of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter movement have been happening weekly in Montana— Billings, Bozeman, Helena, Missoula, Kalispell, Whitefish, and even a small gathering in Columbia Falls at our local Farmer’s Market. In a state that’s 89% White, (1) these protests carry weight. Met with both covert and overt racist comments— this isn’t a problem in Montana; I’ve never experienced racism; I don’t have a problem; but I don’t see color; all lives matter— small town protests are vital. This is solidarity. It’s acknowledging that there are people in Montana who care, who are actively fighting against racism, who are helping to cultivate an environment that welcomes and accepts everyone.

That’s what’s so vital about the small town protests— visibility. That there are BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, people of color) in these small towns, that there are allies and advocates, and that there are people who are willing and ready to listen.

Visibility as a whole needs work. Across media, across platforms, and, yes, across Montana. Why is Montana 89% White? Why are White Supremacist groups still in the state? Why does a Montanan man become uncontrollably enraged at the sight of protesters asking for equality?

Because racism does exist here.

Denial is part of the problem. Saying that people don’t need to march in Montana is part of the problem. We can be allies, we can use our White Privilege to share the platform and promote visibility. Maybe it’s marching and protesting, maybe it’s signing petitions, donating, creating infographics, reading Black literature, learning about Black history (beyond the school standard of MLK and Rosa Parks), supporting Black businesses and artists, visibly making your business inclusive and intersectional, voting in local, state, and federal elections — there are so many venues to promote equity. As Francine urges us: “Find your niche in this and do it.” Do the work. Do the hard things. We as Montanans have a long history of being stubborn and hardworking. Imagine the possibilities if we actively apply those attributes to contemporary racism?

For Samantha, it’s especially important to involve more BIPOC in city politics and local schools. “Growing up here in Whitefish, we’d get Black History Month— talk about Martin Luther King, throw a little Rosa Parks in there, and that’s it. You talk about the same stories every year for twelve years, and then what?”

I received my History minor from Montana State University, but looking at my bookshelf of coursebooks, there is only one about Black America: Radio Free Dixie by Timothy B. Tyson. Written about Robert F. Williams, an American civil rights leader and author, best known for serving as the leader of the Monroe, North Carolina chapter of the NAACP, I keep wondering: Why didn’t I learn about him before my junior year of college? If Black history isn’t even being taught at the collegiate level in history classes, where is it being taught?

It’s not, and that is part of the problem.

There are so many sectors that need work, and that’s why protests in rural America do matter. This isn’t just something that needs to be fixed in major cities. This is happening everywhere, even in Montana. This involves everyone.

…

Growing up, Francine tried to change who she was to “fit in” to the White demographic of Whitefish. From feeling too curvy, being too loud, having big lips, having curly hair— things that are normal parts of being human.

“I didn’t have the examples— I didn’t have women of color when I was a little girl that were examples to me. I used to tell people that Mary J. Blige was my mother because my mom wasn’t in the picture… it was always women that I watched on TV.”

Again (and again and again), this is why visibility is important. To celebrate diversity, celebrate that our bodies, our skin, our hair, are different. Replacing “but I don’t see color” with “I see you, I value you, and I hear you.” Acknowledging that yes, racial differences do exist, and being White has absolutely given me an advantage in life— even something that may seem as simple as seeing people who look like you. I never felt excluded because of the color of my skin. My teachers looked like me, Disney characters looked like me, my neighbors looked like me. I can get pulled over by a cop, not be able to find my registration, and still be sent on my way without ever feeling like my life is at risk. I never once wondered if I would be shot— I was worried that I would be late to class. That is White Privilege. My life was not made more difficult or unsafe because of my skin. In fact, it’s been easier because of the systemic advantages White skin comes with.

“Being able to have people reach out and say ‘Oh my gosh, you’re an example for my daughter’ is the most amazing thing that someone could say to me. Knowing that I can be an example and a leader now… that’s priceless,” Francine notes. There are so many layers to the Whitefish protest and implications of Francine’s media attention— from Montana finally having discussions about diversity and its deep-seated racist past to highlighting the importance of visibility in rural America to BIPOC Montanans owning their rightful space in this state. She’s clear that this is just the beginning— that this moment is part of the movement, especially in Montana.

For people thinking with we can agree to disagree, all lives matter, this isn’t a problem in Montana, I haven’t experienced racism, there’s a simple answer:

“I am telling you as a woman of color, this is a problem in Montana. This is bringing light to places where ignorance has been okay for a long time.”

On Tuesday, June 9th, I received a press release for an apology letter from John Muhlfeld, the mayor of Whitefish. It was a fine apology, but that’s sort of where it stopped. Yes, we do “have a strong, inclusive community,” but we do still have an active White Supremacist group. We do still have a majority White local and state government. All 24 state/territory senators, from 1864 to today, have been White.

Muhlfeld’s apology also contains a paragraph praising the police department’s handling of Snowden. But Snowden wasn’t arrested until the day after the protest, after the now-viral video of Snowden’s tirade began to make its way around the internet (editor’s note: Snowden pleaded not guilty for disorderly conduct on June 17th despite concrete video evidence. He is not set to appear in court again until August 18th). In the series of international protests that were set off by George Floyd being killed by a police officer, there’s a certain level of dissonance when a man can verbally assault peaceful protesters, throw their signs, yell in their faces (without wearing a mask during a pandemic), and be escorted away only to receive a charge for disorderly conduct the next day.

Whitefish, the Flathead Valley, and Montana in general have their inclusive pockets. But we need to go beyond talking the talk, beyond sharing a black square, beyond talking about Black Lives Matter for one day and then posting business as usual the next.

Despite Snowden’s aggressions, however, Francine said she’s ready to talk when he’s ready to be honest. “I have no malice or hatred or anything negative towards him. He wasn’t afraid of me, he was fearful of what was happening.” Francine and a few other protesters put together a care package for Snowden’s wife, noting that his actions and words are not hers— a direct example of putting action behind your words.

At the Kalispell protest later that week, there were heavily armed anti-protesters (self-titled as “peacekeepers”), and one was holding the hand of his young daughter. “She was sobbing. They were yelling at us— we weren’t yelling at them. They were screaming profanities, and he was basically just dragging her down the street.”

“The majority of the community has been awesome.” From difficult conversations to acknowledging White Privilege to showing up in solidarity, there’s been an outpouring of support in Montana. “While I have this spotlight, I want to use every ounce of it to just show the reality of what it is to be a woman of color, especially in Montana… It’s such a beautiful place, you don’t get this anywhere else. We have this beautiful environment, we have a really awesome community, and now if we can just get everyone comfortable, it’ll just get better and better and better.”

The better comes from putting actions to words. Yes, post an inclusivity and diversity statement on your business’s social media, but also put in the work. Share resources and steps people can take to be better allies, but also follow through on those steps. Say that you are here and ready to listen, but actually take the time to listen.

“I want to be a voice for the people who can’t find theirs yet. I found mine— I want everyone else to feel that way. I’m talking for all of the people who are standing with me… I’m ready. I’m ready for it.”