The Four Year Revolutionary

In his now renowned “Comment No.1” (1970), Gil Scott-Heron voices proclamations of revolution while he criticizes the white, so-called-activists of the 1960s. With his hallmark baritone voice and a foul taste in his gritty words, he condemns the “four year revolutionary with a hole card,” a reference to the pseudo-activism often times exhibited on college campuses nationwide.

Fifty years later and his commentary on the lack of social awareness and inclusivity remains as relevant as when he first spoke his piece.

Living within the bubble of any institutional university, you will soon begin to notice a popular trend among student-ran organizations. That is, of course, the call for sociopolitical activism.

Everywhere you look, there’s a different problem that requires your immediate attention.

THE TIME IS NOW! ACT NOW! ACT QUICK! THE WORLD NEEDS YOU!

For what, exactly?

Curiosity reels you in. After a brief chat with some of the members about the club’s mission, you feel inspired. You’re ready to answer the call of justice.

You’re ready to fight for free healthcare, labor rights, LGBTQ+ rights, environmental justice, climate change, or whatever it is that this particular organization does. You’re not entirely sure, but you’re feeding the homeless next week.

You soon immerse yourself in this new venture of social revolution. Your new catchphrase becomes a half-hearted “fuck the system,” and the Bernie sticker on your Hydroflask shows the world you’re ready for systemic change. You've read a couple article on socialism, and consider yourself a communist now.

Throughout your college experience, you indulge in miscellaneous and unrelated volunteer activities, but don’t stop to think about its sustainability. You briefly wonder why there is so much literal shit in the public streets, but don’t want to trouble yourself too much so you move on to your next project.

Your four year revolution revolves around identity politics, because the media has bastardized the meaning of intersectionality. How could you possibly align yourself with ideals that do not reflect your own experience?

You rebel and protest for those you deem underserved, but you don’t fear repercussions from authority. After all, your graduation is next month. You’ll enter society with a college degree and a ticket to a comfortable life in middle America.

At the end of your four year internship, what do you have to show for it?

Of course there is work to be done in institutions like UCLA and, more broadly, in communities like Los Angeles. However, it is important to be grounded in our beliefs. We need to ask ourselves, is the work we’re doing making a genuine, positive impact in our community, or is it simply performative? We need to be more aware of who we’re doing this for and within what system we’re working under. We should not be discouraged when it seems as if little to no progress is being made. Instead, we should strive to learn, be open to discourse, and feel challenged at times. The first steps are always the most unstable.

Remember: our culture, our struggle, our fight is not a fad. “Black Lives Matter” is not your resume builder. “Fuck ICE” is not just a hashtag for your twitter bio. The next Labor Union strike is not your instagram photo-op.

You can’t swipe right on the revolution, because this is not your next college fling. You can’t hide your internalized xenophobia within the comfort of your dorm forever. You can’t be an ally when your empty cries of activism are behind acoustic panels.

Are you spreading peace or seeking peace of mind? Will your college education outlast your commitment to the cause? Or will your newfound privilege exploit the oppressive system you once fought so fervently against?