Part of the Black Lives Matter rally at the State House on Saturday, June 6, 2020.
Part of the Black Lives Matter rally at the State House on Saturday, June 6, 2020. Credit: GEOFF FORESTER

Martin Toe, a man of peace, got a taste of the Promised Land last Saturday at the Black Lives Matter rally at the State House.

And he thought it was delicious, a window into the support black people received from our mostly white state in their fight against police brutality.

“Seeing the people of Concord come there in solidarity and seeing all that unity and the sea of different colors, it’s what I imagine that heaven would look like,” Toe, a Concord High School graduate, said by phone. “It’s a little piece of heaven when people are united and supporting each other.”

Heaven down here, we know, remains under construction, missing materials like compassion and tolerance. But the recent death of George Floyd has, seemingly, changed the country in a more profound way than at any time in recent memory, leaving us to wonder – all of us – what’s next?

Keep on keeping on, says Toe, a 24-year-old grassroots organizer for the American Friends Service Committee. Play it cool.

“Continue the movement as is,” he said. “There are so many towns and places in New Hampshire where there needs to be people hearing the message of your neighbors, and that is an opportunity to feel their struggles and feel their pain.”

Floyd was unarmed last month, cuffed, surrounded by four cops, pinned to the street in Minneapolis, with a knee pressing hard on the back of his neck until he died. We all saw it, and the images of an unresponsive man with a knee pressing down hard on him provided a needed spark that’s emboldened many.

The ensuing story has had the traction of a snowplow’s chained wheels, and no one expects it to fade anytime soon.

Stephanie Alicea of Boscawen, who’s African American, said some form of discrimination has followed her for more than four decades. She’s the mother of Samuel Alicea, a former football player at Merrimack Valley High who dropped to one knee four years ago during the pre-game playing of the national anthem.

He was protesting police brutality against black people, inspired by former NFL quarterback Colin Kaepernick, who had knelt just one month before while playing for the San Francisco 49ers.

Samuel spoke Saturday, reading the names of recent black people killed by police, choking up as he pushed through.

Meanwhile, Stephanie was encouraged by what she saw and heard. Conversely, she expressed skepticism, saying news accounts have shown armed white men shouting at police from in close. She believes that had those protesters been black, they would have gotten busted.

“We need some type of legislation,” Stephanie said. “We need stricter rules if something like this happens. I know what happens as a black woman raising a black kid and having black and brown nephews and cousins.”

Could this be the historic crossroads we’ve been looking for? Why not?

That was the vibe here, right? Have you ever seen a bigger crowd at the State House? Have you ever felt that sort of energy?

The chanting was louder than normal, the energy more palpable.

Some might recall the surreal scene at the State House in 1987, when Gary Hart – knocked from the Democratic primary race earlier that year because of allegations of an extramarital affair – announced he was returning to the race.

I was at both events. Call it a draw.

The Hart thing was a sex scandal that played no role in the country’s growth. It served as a warning to future candidates that infidelity would no longer be off limits to the press.

Saturday, by contrast, focused on police brutality against African Americans. Even everyday occurrences with everyday people, while not resonating much, hurts. Saying hello to someone and getting a forced smile and no eye contact in return. Searching for a drink at a store with the cashier hot on your trail. A teacher who claims a black student’s behavior makes her feel uneasy.

“Subtle things,” Toe said.

What wasn’t subtle was the split in race, with white people dominating the audience and black people speaking up front, at the podium. We can easily explain that: We’re New Hampshire and we’re really white.

But New Hampshire sparkled with support from white people. For example, Jasmine Thomas did her homework, hoping she could pinpoint where the problem lies.

She sought background, context, data, anything that might bolster her theory that police in this country aren’t receiving the education they need to make better decisions. Show a little more compassion and professionalism and patience.

“My hope is that police departments make education more important than it is right now,” said Thomas, an 18-year-old graduate of Kearsarge Regional High School. “I think it’s like 860 hours needed. They actually go for schooling less than a hairstylist. A hairstylist has over 1,000 hours needed in order to get their certificate.”

Actually, it’s only 840 hours for cops, not 860.

What’s important is hearing an 18-year-old explain the research she did before attending a Black Lives Matter event. It was refreshing, a great sign for the future.

Apathy? Not here. Not with these young people, who are beginning to nudge the older voices aside, creating their own social media buzz. They want answers. 

Thomas sat under a birch tree at the State House Plaza, waiting for the guest speakers to take center stage. It was hot out.

“I’m hoping you can put (police) through schooling and dabble in a little bit of psychology,” said Thomas, who studies the subject at Southern New Hampshire University. “Mental health is very important. Learn how to communicate and things like that, so when these opportunities for authority to stamp their foot on the ground, instead of doing that, they realize the issues at hand. Normally people who are angry about what’s going on don’t just stamp their foot down. They realize that this is a human being, not like a bug.”

Her reference to foot-stomping brought that awful video back. Only one person among the 10 or so attendees I spoke with watched the replay more than once. None of the others went for a second look. One woman didn’t even make it that far.

“The truth is, I never was able to get through the whole video,” said Jacinta Josephs of Newbury. “I never made it to the end. It was just really hard to watch.”

She continued: “Obviously for any real change to happen, it’s going to have to happen in the Legislature and the administrative departments. And I think the protests are really important, because it just shows people everywhere that there are a lot of people who believe in this.”

And they’re insisting they be heard, all over the country, in each big city and lots of small ones. Someone asked me at Saturday’s rally, “How many more of these types of things have not been filmed?”

Unknown. Body cameras on cops work well, but sometimes they’re shut off, and that doesn’t sit well with protesters who believe it’s time to hold cops accountable. In-house investigations don’t quite cut it, either.

“There should be a lot more investigation from the federal level when there is police misconduct,” said 29-year-old Bryson Vulgamore, who grew up in Concord and now lives in Laconia. “The police are investigating police.”

Alex Berube grew up in Concord and now lives in Hooksett. He swears by a group called Campaign Zero, saying the organization, affiliated with Black Lives Matter, has vision. The days of putting a band-aid on a wound, open for hundreds of years, are over.

“A lot of organizations are in my opinion short term, almost reactionary,” Berube told me. “How can we keep the police but maybe demilitarize them. Prioritize de-escalation training. If you want to see long-term solutions, you need to invest in the long term.”

Are we ready to grow? At least a little?

Saturday’s event created something exciting. The country is joined together for a common cause like few times in recent memory. The 1960s come to mind, with a united front created by the Civil Rights Movement as well as the Vietnam War.

Back then, TV screens flickered with the black-and-white images of police dogs biting, police batons swinging and high-pressure hoses spraying, aimed at peaceful black protesters.

We’ve seen action that crosses a line over the last two weeks, in a slightly different form. A woman was thrown to the street like a rag doll. Another woman was hit in the left eye by a rubber bullet. Tear gas was used to disperse peaceful crowds. Bystanders were cross-checked by police and sent flying.

“There’s protests about police brutality and racism, and police are quelling those protests with police brutality,” Berube said. “We were a little lucky in New Hampshire. We don’t necessarily have the big-city problems.”

Per capita, though, the state showed big-city passion. Protesters moved from Memorial Field to the front of the Concord police station on Green Street. There, they took a knee, with State Troopers standing stiffly and Concord police sitting on bikes nearby. They chanted slogans like “No justice, no peace,” taking their cues from individuals with megaphones.

Then they moved to the State House Plaza, a line so long that a freight train and its endless flow came to mind. If you were there, maybe you felt something different this time. Something used to convey more than merely lip service.

“This episode has resonated a little bit more and has been a little more powerful because of the nature of the video,” said Brendan Cofrin, a Concord High graduate. “I think it’s the amount of people that have finally and collectively said, ‘Enough is enough.’ ”

Rose Fornor will graduate from Concord High next year. She’s 16, one of the young pioneers ready to make her voice heard. She helped organize the rally. She was at the front of the line, a young leader leading.

Like Thomas, she stressed patience, saying rallies are the thing to do for now. Laws and education can come later. Rallies make noise, as long as the numbers are healthy. They cannot be ignored forever.

Don’t expect Fornor to miss one. And don’t bet on her growing tired or complacent as the United States strives for change.

“We should just still talk about it and get the message out,” she said. “It’s just like, if you’re not done killing black people and you don’t want to give us justice, then we won’t give them peace.

“We won’t stop doing what we’re doing.”