SPEAKING UP, SPEAKING OUT HARRISON-JONES | STANDING IN THE TENSION 

Standing in the Tension 
Pentecost and Peace 

WINTERBOURNE HARRISON-JONES 

As both a faith leader and 
researcher, I stand at the 
intersection of the empirical and that 
which can oftentimes not be 
explained. I have thought long about 
how we as researchers might begin 
to capture the pathos of this moment 
in time. To say that 2020 has been a 
year like no other would be a gross 
understatement. The world in which 
we live is filled with pain, misery, 
and despair. Everywhere we look, we 
are constantly bombarded by 
reminders that we do indeed live in a 
broken and dark world. All over the 
globe, people on every continent and of 
every walk of life are in search for a 
light of hope and a break from the 
madness of our times.  

The cruel realities of our fractured humanity have been made known again and 
again and the lament and voices of the people can be felt and heard all over the 
globe. The “three threats” as Dr. King called them of “racism, poverty and 
militarism” have seemingly collided again and have awakened the moral tempest of 
this nation. Like the tonga drums of Zimbabwe, I can hear ancestral rhythms 
pulsating in the air. The fires of Pentecost race and rage through the world – for in 
the words of the old Negro Spiritual, “God gave Noah the rainbow sign. No more 
water, the fire next time.” Pentecost is here! 

Author 

WINTERBOURNE 
HARRISON-JONES 
Doctoral student in the IU 
School of Education at IUPUI 
Urban Education Studies 
program 

People protesting against police violence after 
the death of George Floyd. 

Community Engaged Participatory Research informs me that my job as a 
researcher is not to dominate or dictate the way forward, but rather to come 

alongside the community as a partner, to illuminate and elevate the voices 
and the people, and to lend whatever agency I have towards their cause and 

truth. 

ENGAGE! 102 VOL. 1, ISSUE 3



SPEAKING UP, SPEAKING OUT HARRISON-JONES | STANDING IN THE TENSION 

On every continent and in every city, people of 
every culture and of every nationality battle with 
and suffer from the effects of educational disparity 
and racial inequality; economic insecurity and 
lack of political diplomacy; worldly insobriety and 
no regard for human dignity; ethical deformity 
with no reverence to cosmic divinity; the absence 
of morality and the prevailing-deviation from 
authenticity; lack of individual sanctity and the 
over-abundance of vulgarity; communal animosity 
coupled with religious bigotry – yes, it is indeed 
hard to sing songs of hope in a strange land. 

Pentecost is here! I speak not merely in religious 
terms, but I speak with the voice of the Prophets 
of old – Moses, Muhammad, Isaiah, Maya, Joel, 
Amos, Nikki, Mari, Micah, Nina, Malcolm, James, 
Medgar, and Fannie – that foretold of the day 
when the winds of change would blow so 
ferociously throughout the earth that it would be 
impossible to deny that something new was 
coming. 

In this kairos moment, we must ask ourselves, 
how might Community Engaged Participatory 
Research equip us to think intentionally and 
prophetically about our work? In the days 
following the brutal lynching of George Floyd – 
the Emmett Till of 2020 – the streets of this 
nation burst with protests and civil 
demonstrations calling for justice. 

I walked the streets of downtown Indianapolis 
and collected many of the signs left behind by the 
protesters. One sign had a quote by the American 
author and anthropologist, Zora Neale Hurston, 
which read, “If you are silent about your pain, 
they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” As many 
around the nation began to ask where we go from 
here, I too pondered this thought, but then I 
realized that it is not up to me to decide. 

Community Engaged Participatory Research 
informs me that my job as a researcher is not to 
dominate or dictate the way forward, but rather to 
come alongside the community as a partner, to 
illuminate and elevate the voices and the people, 

and to lend whatever agency I have towards their 
cause and truth.  

A few days later I was invited to offer a homily in 
response to the social unrest throughout the 
country. In preparing my thoughts, inspired by 
the signs I collected, I shared with those gathered 
that there is always a haste to move too quickly 
towards solving the problem or enacting our 
savior mentality. 

Remembering the words of Hurston, I instead 
encouraged those in attendance to “stand in the 
tension” – to listen deeply and to be still – 
together. In respond to this, a dear friend – Linda 
Rinker – who was listening that day and who in 
response to the words I shared, penned this poem 
entitled, “Stand in the Tension.” 

  The winds of change are sweeping across  
  the world 
 and the fresh leaves of early summer are 

  tossed by anger and hope.  Look!  Plague and 
  protest are moving; nothing will be the same. 
 Stand in the tension; hear the voices in the 

  wind. Wait!  Listen!  Take the anguish and the 
  anger into your soul.  Embrace the tears of the 
  world.   Let your heart become transparent as 
  water,  absorbing the world’s suffering. 
 Stand in that grief, that despair, 
 until you are transformed, changed forever. 
 Let the breath of God blow through you 
 in cleansing thunder and rain. 
 Then will come the time to act, 
 and you will know the way. 

Though the themes of this poem are religious in 
nature, they likewise speak to the foundational 
principles of Community Engaged Participatory 
Research. I would argue that this moment invites 
us to “Stand in the Tension” together – or in the 
words of Mari Evans – “to explode/in the majesty 
of our oneness – our comingtogether – in a 
comingtogetherness.” 

As academicians and activists alike, we 
must “Stand in the Tension” – immerse 

ourselves in the fabric of community 
differently and be prepared to be changed 

and challenged in the process. 

ENGAGE! 103 VOL. 1, ISSUE 3



SPEAKING UP, SPEAKING OUT HARRISON-JONES | STANDING IN THE TENSION 

The winds of change cannot be ignored, and as 
community researchers we must be open to new 
ways of understanding, new ways of becoming, 
and new was of envisioning the future.  

Though our current state is dire, it need not stay 
this way. We need not journey through these days 
as those who are helpless and hopeless. It is not 
peace as a pacifier for change that we are after, 
but peace as a prophetic mandate, peace as 
spiritual practice, peace as lived experience, and 
peace as liberation. Though we try with all our 
might to fight off feelings of despair and utter loss, 
I still believe that there is still a light that shines in 
the darkness, there is still truth to be found, and 
there still hope to be captured – but it is not given, 
it must be forged. 

We have been this way before. Whether 
rhythmically captured through the sermons of the 
slave-preachers like John Jasper or thunderously 
delivered through passionate oratory like Malcolm 
X, Fannie Lou Hamer and Ella Baker; whether put 
to paper by social reformists like Booker T. 
Washington, Marcus Garvey and W.E.B DuBois or 
placed within a musical score by cultural icons like 
Nina Simone, Billie Holiday and Gil Scott Heron; 
whether spoken to tens-of-thousands on the steps 
of the Lincoln Memorial like Dr. Martin Luther 
King, Jr. or through the dangerous snake-infested 
swamps of the American south like Harriet 
Tubman – the catharsis of the human spirit – like 
the Phoenix and the Sphinx– always prevails. 

The fire of Pentecost is not meant to scare us, but 
to invite us all closer, to destroy the old, and ignite 
something new within our hearts. As 
academicians and activists alike, we must “Stand 
in the Tension” – immerse ourselves in the fabric 
of community differently and be prepared to be 
changed and challenged in the process.

A mural painted in Indianapolis to honor those killed by police 
violence. 

ENGAGE! 104 VOL. 1, ISSUE 3