No justice, no peace. We will not be silenced. An attack against one is an attack against all. Continuons la lutte, le capitalisme sombre. #BlackLivesMatter. ¡La unión hace la fuerza!
These are just a couple of the many slogans used by past and current activist movements. Freedom of speech and the right to protest are two of the most consequential liberties, especially in our current political and social environment.
However, these movements are not exclusively national and global events. From the Gateway Diner sit-in in 1963 to the more recent pro-Palestinian encampments, Georgetown University has a rich history of student activism. In the first installment of this column, Red Square Rhetoric, I would like to provide a brief history of what I believe to be one of the most influential protests on our campus to shed light on the importance of student activism and the need to keep holding our university accountable.
The nonviolent sit-in movement began in North Carolina in 1960. Civil rights activists would sit in available seats at segregated lunch counters, request service and then refuse to leave when denied. In addition to intentionally creating disruptions and drawing publicity, this action also caused economic hardship for business owners by filling seats intended for paying customers.
In 1963, the Gateway Diner in Alexandria, Va., refused service to three Georgetown students who were participating in this movement. The next day, the same three students returned with 12 other students, and, after all 15 refused to leave in protest of the diner’s racial discrimination, the students were arrested.
While this sit-in is one of many protests documented on the Georgetown Library website, it is notably one of the earliest recorded instances of Georgetown students organizing a protest because of discrimination.In addition to playing a significant role in the Civil Rights Movement, the sit-in movement created a lasting impression. In 2022, students occupied Healy Hall to demand justice for LaHannah Giles (CAS ’23), the victim of a racist hate crime. The sit-in had over 100 participants, creating an overwhelming display of support and solidarity for Giles.
The sit-in, which started Dec. 5, lasted four days, concluding Dec. 8. The university agreed to establish a timeline to meet Giles’ demands — including the expulsion of the perpetrator, acknowledgment of the harm Giles suffered and improved accountability for similar events — after neglecting Giles’ demands for months. The sit-ins resumed Feb. 8, after the university did not identify the perpetrator of the hate crime. On Feb. 10, organizers decided that it was time to shift the movement’s focus from demanding a response to preserving the memory of the incident and calling attention to the university’s inability to deliver justice.
While this incident drew significant attention, it highlights a recurring issue at Georgetown: the university’s pattern of responding to activism and protests with delays and placations rather than tangible action. The lessons of past protests teach us the importance of persistence, yet the university’s inadequate responses leave students disillusioned and disappointed.
As students see less and less payoff from protests, they may feel discouraged from serving the student groups who engage in protest or, all together, stop protesting and demanding change from the university.
Movements are built on courage, determination and the unwavering belief that change is possible. It is a legacy carried forward by every person who refuses to stay silent in the face of injustice, from the Georgetown students who participated in the Gateway Diner sit-in to those who protested against the university’s handling of hate crimes.
If you want something to change, you need to make your voice heard and, like Giles, not take no for an answer. While the university’s replies to protests have become more and more scarce, this lack of response does not signify a failed protest — rather, it reminds us that we need to work even harder to continue making our voices heard.
Charlotte Hibbert is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences. This is the first installment of her column, “Red Square Rhetoric.”
