Darcel Rockett
Troy Gaston has a tendency to vibrate when he talks about social justice. It’s the enthusiasm for the topic.
The West Garfield Park resident doesn’t sit still for long when discussing topics of safety for those in the Black community, regardless of whether he’s attending a virtual class at Roosevelt University from his kitchen or poring over the details of his 50-plus-page literature review on the damage mass incarceration inflicts on Black families in America. Sometimes he paces. Sometimes R&B music is playing in the background. His hands move through the air, much like a conductor waving a baton. All the while his puppy, Designer, a Labrador/pit bull mix, is barking, almost as excited as his owner.
Gaston’s life is not quiet.
And if you were keeping an eye on local protests and protesters in 2020, you may have already seen him. According to Gaston, 39, he has taken part in or led 67 protests from March 27, 2020, to Nov. 6, 2020. These days, his protests have more of a solo nature or take a different approach by way of community grassroots organizing. Chicago Tribune photography intern Youngrae Kim captured Gaston on the front lines of social unrest, expressing his need to see change when it comes to the protection and safety of Black bodies.
“There is no one who has invested in the protection of us,” Gaston said. “No one. These police officers are dehumanizing people through their interactions. And when you dehumanize, there is no level of value that is consistent with those of white people who you value. I come from a family that has been affected by state-sanctioned violence.”
The Gaston family is grieving the loss of one of their own — John “Ike” Gaston — Troy’s second cousin. Troy Gaston was out during the last week of February canvassing for information about missing person Cheretha Morrison, when a neighbor told him the body of his cousin had been found burned in a rug Feb. 27 in a Park Manor neighborhood alley.
Bruce Gaston and Tawanda Johnson, the siblings of John Gaston, attended the funeral in the West Roseland neighborhood a month later. According to the family, those in the community are being less than forthcoming with information about his death.
“Even if it wasn’t my brother, it’s somebody else’s family that’s out there,” said Johnson, a resident of St. Paul, Minnesota. “So here we go again, except now it’s my brother. It’s too much.”
Troy Gaston said he was moved to a life of advocacy while sitting in a chair at Lines and Angles Hair Salon in Grand Crossing.
“We were talking about the conditions of Black people in communities,” Gaston said. “I was explaining to people how I felt about being an advocate. I wanted to go to school to get more educated. I was encouraged that there needed to be Black men out here with my background and experience who will give voice to the issues surrounding our community.”
His longtime barber, Michael Wilburn, is a proponent of Gaston’s activism.
“We all should be out there, but Troy is real passionate,” he said. “Someone had to take it home and marinate in it. Troy took up the mantle.”
Gaston, who grew up in the Robert Taylor Homes, spends most of his days attending Roosevelt University. After he graduates with a degree in political science, he plans to attend graduate school and hopes to get a doctorate in anthropology.
After taking Annie Warshaw’s Introduction to Gender Justice class in spring 2020, Gaston connected the feminist theory that was discussed in class to real life activism.
“As everything started getting shut down, there were news stories about incarcerated women and the disparities between Black and white women and how they were being treated because of the pandemic,” Warshaw said. “Troy took it upon himself to go outside of Cook County Jail and stage his own protest and call attention to the inequities that already existed but were heightened because of the virus.”
During a May 28 protest over George Floyd’s killing, Gaston was arrested by Chicago police. An online petition calling for State’s Attorney Kim Foxx and Mayor Lori Lightfoot to release him went out on social media. Warshaw said she made calls to ensure Gaston had an attorney. He was released but has been charged with resisting arrest. He is still fighting to get that charge dropped. His next court date is April 28.
Attorney Martha Conrad said she helped activists from the group Refuse Fascism draft the online petition. She describes Gaston as “tenacious.” Conrad would see Gaston at other protests over the summer and other actions, including at a protest against the Trump/Pence administration, where she heard Gaston give an impassioned speech against pervasive, systemic racism.
“From the beginning, I could see that Troy is passionate for justice,” she said. “He was willing to take the risk to stand up for that, and since then, he has often expressed a hatred for oppression and a desire to remake the world.”
“He doesn’t care about how he’s being perceived because he believes this is the right thing, and this is what needs to be said,” Warshaw said. “People are drawn to him; one of his greatest strengths is building relationships and making people feel included. I can definitely see him within a role that permits him to use his voice on a larger stage.”
Gaston’s arrest in May wasn’t his first involvement with the criminal justice system. He’s had stints in juvenile detention and was sentenced to prison for 10 years, serving from 2007 to 2017. Gaston said he was wrongfully convicted of the crimes that sent him there — including burglary, forgery and misuse of a credit card — and spent three of those years in solitary confinement at Stateville and Pinckneyville correctional centers.
“I wanted to make it out here, like I am right now,” he said. “I’ve been designed to fight. Black people’s whole existence is a resistance.” If that means he protests against oversurveillance or police brutality by himself in front of the 7th District police station with just his cellphone going live on Facebook, then so be it.
If it means starting his own 501(c)(3) charity, he’s open to that idea too. He’s ruminating over a concept that brings community members from different walks of life together to moderate conflicts.
“It’s about the work of people trying to find the dignity within themselves to show a connection with the human spirit with other people,” Gaston said.
When asked what a week in his life looks like, Gaston replied that he’s always on the go — from fielding texts and keeping an eye on social media for what’s happening in the Black community to interning at the National Public Housing Museum on the Inequity for Sale project (a work by artist Tonika Johnson that looks at how land sale contracts in Englewood contributed to current inequities in Black communities).
Laura Nussbaum-Barberena, director of the Office of Student Research and the Policy Research Collaborative at Roosevelt University, said she invited Gaston to participate as an intern because of his personal experiences, strong analytical lens of the carceral system (incarceration and surveillance) and his willingness to build a bridge of understanding to other members of the Black community through scholarship.
“I thought Troy would be an ideal candidate to participate in this experience because of his interest in broadening his lens and contributing to the public narrative of how public housing and its destruction is understood,” Nussbaum-Barberena said.
Gaston’s efforts do have his family concerned about his safety as he advocates for the safety of others. Gaston says he takes precautions, talking with friends, colleagues and other protesters; calling loved ones when he leaves the house; and going live on his phone when he is pulled over by police.
His family knows Gaston will continue to push for real systemic change. Bruce Gaston said Troy has wanted change and something better as long as he’s known him. Cheretha Gaston, Bruce’s wife and a retired juvenile detention counselor, said Troy has always been on a whole different level when it came to wanting to make an impact on his environment.
“Troy has led a protest with just him, his mouth and his phone, and he’s just as passionate about that as one where he had 100 people with him,” she said. “He gives off the exact same energy to whatever he’s doing; that’s how you know it’s passion. It’s embedded in him because he has the exact same energy regardless of anyone standing beside him or not. I love that about him, and I always did.”
When talking about his legacy, Troy Gaston said he wants to reserve space for future generations to take the wheel.
“All my personal experiences have shaped my belief in fighting for a better system,” Gaston said. “I’m not supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to have this moment because I wasn’t supposed to have lasted this long. But now that I’m here, I’ve got to believe I’m chosen for this moment.”
