For Wale Elegbede, the fight for equality, fairness and ending discrimination is one he can trace back generations.
His uncle, an admiral, was killed in Nigeria amid political strife. His father became a diplomat to address societal challenges within his country. And now, Elegbede, who is president of the NAACP’s Rochester branch, devotes himself to battling the ills of the world that hurt marginalized communities.
“When it comes to democracy, when it comes to just leadership in general, community, and, ‘How do we transform our society for the better?’, those are things that really, really matter to me,” he said last week.
I called Elegbede to commend him, his organization, the city of Rochester and others who pushed for legal penalties against Shiloh Hendrix. She’s the woman who used a racial slur against a young boy at a local park last spring, and who subsequently collected more than $800,000 through a Christian fundraising site. According to the Rochester City Attorney’s office, she will be charged with three misdemeanor counts of disorderly conduct. Many of those who backed her financially used the same racist rhetoric that she’d employed at a park when the then 8-year-old boy, who is Black and autistic, reached into a diaper bag that wasn’t his and took an applesauce.
Hendrix responded by using multiple slurs — the incident was captured on camera — and said, “If he acts like one, then he’s going to be called one.”
Now, she’ll face up to 90 days in jail or a $1,000 fine. I don’t think anyone expects her to suffer a severe penalty. But the charges do reflect a measure of accountability that’s necessary.
“If we can start to hold people accountable when they traumatize our children, when they traumatize community members, when they actively do racist acts, we will see this as a change of the tide because we want our community to be a safe place where people can come and live and thrive,” Elegbede said. “And if you don’t hold people accountable, then you’re sending the signal that this is acceptable.”
The principle of “Minnesota Nice,” especially for people who live here and who are not white, often feels like a principle of silence. It’s supported by a culture that prefers to avoid any conversation that might feel uncomfortable. Nod your head, acknowledge what happened and move on, and protect yourself from the threat of guilt. That’s also a good way for harmful cycles to persist.