Refusal As An Act Of Revolution
Author: Amber Hasan
What we witnessed with Rep. Nicole Collier is bigger than one representative, one desk, or one vote. This is the physical embodiment of how power works in America, where Black women, who have carried this quasi-democracy on their backs, are forced to fight simply for the right to exist without being monitored, silenced, or controlled. Rep. Nicole Collier refusing to “sign away her dignity” is not just about political procedure it’s about history repeating itself.
Rep. Collier refused to leave because leaving meant surrendering her civil liberties along with her dignity. It meant agreeing to Republican demands that she be monitored, escorted by police like a criminal, her every move dictated as if she were the protagonist in some dystopian work of fiction. But this is no fictitious novel, these are current events where they are attempting to coerce obedience by weaponizing surveillance. That is intimidation dressed up as “procedure.” It’s a centuries-old script written for Black women: follow the rules, agree to be monitored closely, and don't disrupt the hierarchy.
Our ancestors were forced into systems that sought to strip them of agency, of land, of voice, of movement. From slavery to Jim Crow, to COINTELPRO, to Red Lining, to voter suppression to mass incarceration, the message has been clear, the moment we demand full humanity, the oppressors, the bullies will use any tool available to them to try and scare us into submission. This is why Rep. Collier's act of resistance matters. She is saying no, my freedom is not up for negotiation.
August 20th, 2024: Nicole Collier (State Representative for Texas House District 95) Finally Leaving the State House Chamber after refusal to allow her to leave.
Political bullying is still bullying, and when it comes in the form of police escorts, legislative intimidation, or procedural strong-arming, it reveals just how fragile these oppressive systems really are. They can’t win on fairness, so they try to win through fear.
But here’s the truth: when one of us holds the line, all of us feel the ripple. Collier’s stand becomes a mirror, reminding us of Fannie Lou Hamer’s refusal, reminding us of Ida B. Wells’ pen, reminding us of Assata Shakur's escape, reminding us of every black woman who turned an obstacle into fuel and silence into strategy.
This matters because it forces us to ask: what kind of country are we if liberty must be sacrificed to participate in democracy? And what kind of community will we become if we allow that sacrifice to stand unchallenged?
